How to Feel Normal: Orca Edition

I haven’t felt normal since...I don’t know, mid-July? February, before COVID started? Have I ever felt normal, really? (No. Not really.) 

As soon as I was diagnosed, my life got flipped, turned upside-down and I didn’t even get to move to a mansion in Bel-Air. First was surgery, then recovery, then planning for radiation and chemo, now the actual treatment, and then months of recovery. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that things won’t feel normal for a while. I’m on week 3 of radiation, and the side effects have arrived. So far, they include: fatigue, swelling around my jaw and neck, a constant weird taste in my mouth, extreme cotton mouth, and a feeling like my mouth has a sunburn (complete with blisters). I have two more rounds of chemo and three weeks of radiation left, so it’s hard to reconcile the knowledge that it’s only going to get worse for a while. I’m already so tired. 

This past weekend, though, I took a small vacation to normal. It was unplanned, unexpected, and sorely needed. Here’s how it happened:

Step 1: Got up late and lounged around, as usual, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I’m only noting this because it was very important that my phone was nearby for Step 2. 

Step 2: Got a text from a friend that orcas were in the Sound. Immediately got onto the Orca Network Facebook page to confirm location. 

Step 3: Sat around some more and wondered if I had the energy to go on an orca treasure hunt. 

Step 4: Went into Seattle for a COVID test (the fourth!)...this was not an essential step, I suppose, but it did get us into the general vicinity of the spotted orcas. Also, anything you do after a COVID test is going to seem like the most fun thing ever because it doesn’t involve getting a q-tip shoved forcibly into your nostrils. 

Step 5: After COVID test, got back on Orca Network to see where the orcas were last spotted. Tried to figure out the best beach spot to try to go see them. There’s always some luck involved here. We knew the orcas were headed north but you never know how long they might take or if they’ll make it all the way up to where you decide to go. 

Step 6: Picked Carkeek Park but left almost immediately when we realized the parking lot was still closed due to COVID. 

Step 7: Next stop…Richmond Beach Saltwater Park. Parked at the top parking lot so we could view the water from high ground. Looked for someone patiently sitting with binoculars. Asked them if they’d seen anything. We lucked out and ended up speaking to someone connected with Orca Network, who told us exactly where the orcas were. Though they were far away, we could still watch their antics through binoculars. 

Step 8: Followed the orcas north to Edmonds. Set up shop at a little beach park, obsessively scanned with binoculars in general direction of where we thought they’d be coming from. FINALLY, the orcas swam right by us, and we watched them fishing and breaching and spyhopping for hours. We even saw one of the juvenile orcas, born this year. BABY ORCA. 

Step 9: Ignored the cold and the rain and the fact that my face and fingers were going a bit numb, and my legs (one of which is still recovering from surgery) were getting achy and tired because THERE WERE ORCAS. 

As we left, we parked up on a bluff to view the orcas one last time. Eventually, realizing I was way behind on eating for the day (and, look, if you had 15 medical professionals hounding you every time you lost a pound or two, you’d be worried about this, too), I said we could leave. 

Joe asked if I’d finally gotten my fill of orcas and I laughed because of course not. That’s not a thing. 

This wasn’t the first time I’ve gone out looking for orcas based on a report from a friend or Orca Network but it’s only the second time I’ve ever seen them. The first time we saw orcas was two years ago. We went with some friends to San Juan Island for the sole purpose of seeing them (though it’s never a given, as we discovered earlier this year when we tried again with no luck).

That first trip, though, we set up camp at Lime Kiln lighthouse. We waited for hours, along with about twenty other people, but our patience was rewarded. The orcas finally came by, and we watched them with binoculars as they foraged far out in the water.

Then, suddenly, an orca breached right below the cliff we were standing on. A collective, “oh!” rang out from the crowd as we watched it swim by. It felt like such a gift. As did this weekend’s adventure, both for the orcas and for the brief detour back to normal. 

There are no orcas pictured here but THEY’RE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE.