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My Name is Lacey

The people closest to me call me Lace. I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer on February 19, 2014. It’s hard to swallow, that all this crazy started almost a year ago. I decided I would spew my story out into the extended spaces of the internet, in case someone might find some use of it.

Now, before I dive into all the details that more than likely led you to this explanation of unwanted events, more about me. Why? Why not? You may not know me and if you do know me, you may not know me as well as you think you do. I find this to be mildly important in understanding my point of views as I go into my experience and it’s entirety. And then we will eat cake.

OK. Where were we. a/s/l? I’ll start. 29/F/NV. Las Vegas, Nevada to be exact. But I didn’t start here. Not even close. I come from a small little country town called Weyauwega, Wisconsin. Toss that name into a spelling bee for a rise.

Life is good. Growing up was simple, filled with the countrysides of the Midwest, surrounded by four seasons, Fall being my favorite. But there was something to be said and adored about the wide open skies, humid nights, and rolling thunderstorms of the short Summer months.

Weyauwega is a very small town, to this day. One week after I graduated highschool, I found myself completely emerged in the downtown scene of Minneapolis, alone. Talk about a lucid culture shock. In my 18 year old mind, I had two choices. Minneapolis, MN or New London, CT. Staying in Wisconsin was not an option. I decided to turn down collage on the east coast, on a volleyball scholarship (plus I was not going to be a girl playing volleyball in spandex for a team called The Camels…), for a ridiculously expensive art school debt. Sometimes you can’t help but wonder how life would be completely different, if I would have went the other way. But there’s no looking back and I am quite happy with the descions I have made in my life to this point.

Minneapolis is an extraordinary city. It changed my way of life. My views. My opinions. My personality. All for the better. How liberating! This country, this world, is so vast and amazing and beautiful, I don’t understand how one might never just chance life somewhere else.

Alright. Time out. I can totally feel the urge to sit and spill my life story, thoughts, feelings, out on the table like a million puzzle pieces, that I would strategically place together right in front of you until the whole big picture is built, and you got bored, and over it, and then you missed the whole reason I’m even dabbling with writing. I realize, in a time of searching for answers and seeking advice, you don’t always want to read about who somebody was. So let’s Quentin Tarantino this shit.

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