Honestly, 2025 has been a doozy and I’ll be glad to have it in the rearview. My year was personally very eventful, and that’s excluding everything that happened in the world. I’m still processing a lot of it, but here’s a summary in roughly chronological order, using Roman numerals for added drama:
I. Cancer scare #1 (fake)
In early Feb I had my first screening mammogram ever, in accordance with the guidelines of most major authoritative health organizations which recommend starting screening at age 40 in people with average risk for breast cancer. In my head I was thinking of it as a box to check, a way to briefly remind myself that I was still in middle age but you know, I still got it 💃🏻, and that I was a good, compliant patient with all screenings up to date. I was most apprehensive about my boobs being squished, and even that was maybe a 3/10 on the anxiety scale.
The initial result said my breasts were extremely dense (thanks), so I was recommended for a repeat study, which I scheduled because I am a good, compliant patient. When the radiologist came into the room to deliver the result verbally to my face, I knew it wasn’t going to be that I have fantastic A+ breasts. She said there was something suspicious and that the next step would be a biopsy.
From the intervening time between when she told me I needed a biopsy, to when I actually got the biopsy about a week later, and when I received the result verbally over the phone a few days after that that it was negative, I went through a whole personal cancer journey in my head, like a movie, thinking about how my life would be different if I had cancer. I cried twice. I talked to my mom and my sister and my partner a lot. I ate two hot dogs for lunch even though I rarely eat hot dogs because (1) I love hot dogs and (2) everyone knows hot dogs cause cancer so I figured if I already had cancer then I might as well eat some hot dogs.
Anyway, I got the call that it was negative, and it was definitely a relief that I didn’t have cancer (YET – my dense breasts are basically just better at hiding things, and studies seem to suggest that the density of the breasts itself is an independent risk factor for breast cancer. Great!), and I kind of filed the whole thing away in my head as something not to worry about until my next mammogram.
II. Cancer scare #2 (fake-ish)
Around the same time, though, my Pap smear also came back with something suspicious. As a small-ish Asian woman I have a specific type of privilege where I am rarely suspected of anything, so to be found suspicious for two somethings in a matter of days was unexpected, to say the least (it was my cells that were suspicious, not me… but who am I if not my cells?). Long story short, that one required a cervical biopsy, which was extremely uncomfortable (and also more unexpectedly expensive than was communicated to me which was annoying), and in the end it basically confirmed that it was suspicious, but not requiring any immediate action and is something that can be surveilled. So essentially my body is low grade threatening to kill me, but verbally, from across the room, and not moving very quickly or otherwise indicating that it’s particularly serious about it. So I also filed that away as a thing not to worry about until it was something to worry about (and to appreciate having had a good time in my 20s and 30s as an unattached woman in the big city 🤷).
III. Cancer
In May, my mom texted me that she also was found to have dense breasts on her screening mammogram and needed a repeat study. We kind of laughed about it together, and I reassured her that it was probably nothing, just like mine, we’re just a coupla broads with dense breasts. However, when hers came back suspicious, it was a different kind of suspicious. Mine was suspicious as in “ehhh you’re supposed to get a biopsy but there’s a pretty good chance it’ll be negative because it’s kind of hard to see what we’re looking at” and hers was “you need a biopsy because we see enough of what we need to see and it’s not good, and we just need to confirm what we already know so we can start treating the not-good thing.”
I flew out to California to be with my mom when she got her biopsy despite her insisting I don’t because when I had my biopsy she said she wished she could be there with me and sometimes when people say things like that it’s what they actually would want for themselves. (Why couldn’t we just be direct with each other? Because we’re Korean. More specifically, because 눈치.) I bought a one-way ticket and made the cross country trip, which would be the first of five times I would be in California before the end of the year (☁️ foreshadowing ☁️), hung out for a few days, and went with her for the procedure.
I don’t believe in fate or a higher power or anything, but I was thankful that the timing was such that I had just been through something very similar and could help talk her through it. Having medical knowledge and a higher than average ability to navigate the American healthcare system was also helpful, but honestly I was just trying to be there for my mom as a daughter. The only thing I really did differently as a person with a medical background (including having operated on and treated dozens of people with breast cancer) vs just being her kid was to just be much more direct that it was almost certainly cancer even before the formal results came back, to help prepare her mentally for the journey ahead. I was aware of that journey clinically but not as a family member or otherwise personally, but I did know that knowing more and understanding what the hell is happening to your body and what to expect tends to be helpful.
As expected, my mom’s biopsy came back positive for cancer. She got the call on Friday the 13th and my dad and I were at her side when the call came. After she hung up the phone, I gave her a big hug and asked her how she was feeling. She said she felt prepared and accepted it, but also got a little teary and asked (rhetorically) “Why is this happening to me?”, which I thought was a response that really reflected who she is and who I want to be (strong, ready to take on anything, but also vulnerable and honest).
IV. The accident
Exactly three days after receiving the biopsy results and starting to make tactical plans like finding a surgeon and booking a consultation, we thought it would be nice to go to the beach to decompress a bit. We were on Highway 1 going northbound, making a turn to find parking for the beach when the passenger side of the car was struck by a car coming southbound. I saw it coming toward us and the impact itself felt like an eternity (later when I saw the diagram of the crash on the police report, I understood why, because we were dragged across three lanes of traffic and stopped when we hit a traffic box). Everything went bright white and I assumed I was dying, although turns out it was the airbags deploying, and rear airbags look like a curtain, which I never knew until that moment. Someone was screaming and it took a beat for me to realize it was me. The immediate aftermath was a haze; I had had the wind knocked out of me so I couldn’t breathe or talk but my mom kept asking if Rachel was ok, which broke my fucking heart because I just kept thinking that out of all of us, she really didn’t need this, and I was trying my best to force the air out of my lungs through my vocal cords to try and say “I’m ok” because I thought she had enough to worry about, and I didn’t want her to worry about me.
We were transported to the hospital in three separate ambulances. I was brought as a trauma activation because I had a seatbelt sign. I remember being in the ambulance looking out the rear window and seeing that all the cars had moved out of the way and thinking “huh, isn’t that nice.” I remember being rolled into trauma bay and similarly people had moved out of the way and were staring at me, and I remember thinking “am I supposed to say hi to them?” I think that was when I knew I was probably fine (also when the paramedic presented me to the trauma team as a “paperwork trauma” lol) even though I was crying (but mostly out of shock and worrying about my mom as opposed to pain).
I was cleared of anything major pretty quickly (pro tip for expediting an ER visit – come in as a trauma), probably within 40 minutes or so. Most importantly, my mom walked away with bruises and not much else even though the impact was on her side and she had to be extricated because the passenger door was crushed. My dad was also fine, thankfully. I fractured a small bone in my lower back and had a lot of contusions but was also otherwise okay physically. I had a morbid thought that if there was a certain quota of injuries that had to happen from that accident, I’m glad I got all of them and that my mom especially was mostly unscathed.
V. Mom
About a month later, my mom underwent surgery and I took a leave of absence from work to take care of her. I had found her a good surgeon who had incredible bedside manner and genuinely seemed to care about her patients (the initial consultation was two hours and she explained literally everything about what was going on and what to expect). Again, I don’t believe in a higher power, but by sheer coincidence this surgeon went to the same random middle school in Illinois that I went to and also grew up where I did, which I feel was some kind of sign. My mom was and is amazing and resilient, and everything went as smoothly as it possibly could have. I made her Korean soup after the surgery and she said it tasted so good which was probably my proudest moment this year (a close second was when my friend Steve’s orange foster cat Rigby chose my lap to sit in at their house after dinner).
There is a very unique vulnerability to taking care of a sick parent as an adult person. You’re my mom, you’re not allowed to get sick or old or die. This is the person who raised me and made me who I am. I still can’t fully process and am dreading the day when I can’t just pick up the phone and talk to her whenever I want because it no longer feels theoretical. At the same time I won’t be that surprised if she lives another 20-30 years because she is incredibly active and (other than cancer) full of life and values health and well connected to her community. It’s the way I want to live.
VI. Getting bipped
By September I had had enough life lessons for the year. Of course, life (or that higher power I definitely still don’t believe in) had other ideas. I took a short vacation with my partner and on day 1 our rental car was broken into and all our belongings stolen. Yes, it was in the Bay Area, yes, it was a smash and grab, yes, I knew it was a risk, no, our stuff wasn’t visible, no, it wasn’t a “bad neighborhood” (whatever that means to you). I quickly learned to follow up sharing this story with those explanatory commas because there is a weird form of victim blaming that happens whenever I tell it. I don’t believe it’s intentional or personal but it seemed almost instinctual that people would immediately ask for those details. It makes me really sad that people just seem resigned to it. Not to make this a west coast vs east coast thing and unfairly lump large heterogeneous groups of people into a single stereotype, but the reaction from laid back Californians (lol) was “oh, that sucks, but this is really common here, hope you had insurance!” and the reaction from my people back home was “what the fuck!!! are you ok?! that’s so messed up. what can we help with?” I think I’d prefer the New York response every time.
To be honest, this is the kind of thing that would have REALLY bugged me in the past, like upended my life and become some kind of defining story about my attitude towards humanity, but in context of everything else that happened this year, when I saw the smashed-up window, I was just kind of like, oh well – at least we’re safe. Then I immediately went into problem solving mode. We switched out the rental car within an hour, were able to replace most of the valuables like electronics, and it basically ended up being a minor inconvenience, considering the grand arc of life. I didn’t care as much about the things that were replaceable, even my laptop and AirPods and stuff; I was more upset about the belongings that were meaningful to me and irreplaceable but had no street value, like my journal (have fun reading about all my stupid anxieties, thief!!) and the SD card in my camera (that had photos from my time with my parents the month prior that I hadn’t gotten to back up yet). I was also just really disappointed that it happened at all.
VII. Epilogue / gratitude
Despite all of the above, the most overwhelming feeling I have had this year is gratitude. I’m thankful that none of this was any worse than it was, because it could have been so much worse in so many ways. In my life I have noticed that whenever there is some acute event (like a literal crash), there’s the event itself, and then there’s the blast radius — the chains of events that it sets off, some of which linger much longer than expected. At the time of impact (the car crashing into yours on Coast Highway, the call that the biopsy is positive for cancer, the realization that the rental car window has been smashed) you’re not thinking about the aftereffects; you’re locked in in the moment. Weirdly, from the time I was riding in the ambulance after the car accident and being worked up in the trauma bay, I had a realization that I was feeling something that I hadn’t felt in a long time (not pain from the accident). It was the feeling of being fully, entirely present in the moment. For that hour or so, nothing was more important than making sure I wasn’t secretly bleeding out inside. I couldn’t check my phone or move or do anything except… be there.
Having had time to reflect, I’m so aware of all the privileges and resources I have that softened the literal blows. Access to medical care, insurance coverage, the ability to navigate the healthcare system – these are extremely basic things that should be universal benefits, that I have because I have a good job (and also just happened to have worked in the healthcare system), and I have a good job because I have had a lot of support and opportunities in life, and I have a lot of support and opportunities in life because of sheer dumb luck. I feel so grateful but also sad, that these things are considered privileges and not rights.
I am also grateful for many unexpected moments of warmth from strangers that reminded me of something that is hard to believe sometimes but that I do believe, which is that most humans are good and do care about each other. A few examples:
- When I was getting my breast biopsy, I audibly gasped when the lidocaine needle went in (ironically the numbing was the most painful part), and the radiology tech, who had otherwise been kind of aloof, kindly looked right into my eyes and asked in the gentlest and most serious tone if I wanted to hold her hand, and I was like “yeah 😭😭” and squeezed the hell out of it for the entire procedure. That really meant a lot to me.
- I have complicated feelings about hospitals and healthcare institutions, but my mom’s surgeon and pretty much all of the staff we encountered were so kind and empathetic and really helped make her feel at ease during a stressful time. The nurse in the surgery center gave very clear and detailed instructions about what to expect and when, down to when we were in the waiting room and she had briefed us about which door would open with the next nurse who would call us in. Those details seem so insignificant individually but when you’re that vulnerable and in an unfamiliar environment with strangers, even something like knowing which door is going to open and then seeing that door open does something to calm your brain and I was so grateful for that for my mom.
- In the immediate aftermath of the bipping, I was kind of in a daze driving the busted car back to the rental car lot, and I was not really expecting a lot of sympathy based on my previous experiences with the rental car company and a general cynicism about people, but there was a sweet angel employee checking the car back in for an exchange, when I told her what had happened, she said “oh man” and looked genuinely sorry (and said so), which was such a simple thing to say but felt so kind in the moment. Then, when my partner who for whatever reason was having an uncharacteristic streak of vigilante justice, mentioned that the bippers had bipped my AirPods and therefore I could track their location via Find My and attempt to… confront them, I guess? (I genuinely just wanted the journal and the SD card with photos)… I asked her what she would do if she were in my shoes, and she looked around, leaned into the car to talk to me directly and said, “As an employee of [rental car company], I’d say you shouldn’t go after them. (long pause) But if were just me, I’d hunt them down, cuz I’m a crazy bitch.” I really appreciated that.
- About a month after the bipping, my partner got a call from a Bay Area number. It was a man named Gary who was walking his dog and stumbled upon a suitcase label some distance from a suitcase with a bunch of clothes in it. Gary took the suitcase and its contents, ran all the clothes through the laundry, and called the number on the label. He ended up shipping everything to us and was generally just very sweet and apologetic even though obviously none of it was his fault and in fact he really turned the whole experience around, not because the stuff was so irreplaceable or anything, but it kind of restored my faith in humanity. He didn’t have to do any of that but he did.
So, that’s pretty much it. I’m over 2025. I don’t have any goals or resolutions for 2026. This sounds really corny, but I truly just want to be fully present, and ideally without requiring a motor vehicle collision to feel it. I want to be the kind stranger in a moment of vulnerability for someone else. I want to hang out with my mom and my family. If I can just keep this train on the track and live healthy I’ll consider 2026 a success. Thanks for reading.