My Wicked Year

How this movie got me through a year of way too many plot twists

When I saw the first Wicked movie last November, it hit me hard. It wasn’t the first time I had seen the musical - I saw it on stage with my mom as a teenager, then at least one other time as an adult. I always loved the story, the music, and the creative connections to The Wizard of Oz. But this time it hit me right in the frickin’ soul. It reawakened my inner musical theater kid, poked at my grief, and gave me a soundtrack of fun and empowering songs to belt out (my personal favorite way of regulating my emotions). I could get into how it also showcased a way-too-timely portrayal of scapegoating marginalized communities and how we can use our powers for good, but that’s for a different day.

The magical combination of it all left me, shall I say, obsessulated.

It was everything I didn’t know I needed at that exact time.

But what I really didn’t know was how much I would need this movie in the next year of my life.

In the year before part two came out, this movie meant more than I ever expected. It became my lifeline through a broken leg, breast cancer, and a breakup.

Just a couple of weeks after I saw Wicked, I was being rushed to the emergency room after taking a wrong step in my friend’s snowy driveway. I had somehow spiral fractured two bones in my left leg, my tibia and fibula. After the doctors x-rayed and splinted up my leg, I needed to distract myself for a couple of hours as I waited for my partner at the time to come pick me up. The one thing that could even momentarily take my mind off of the excruciating pain was watching a bootlegged version of the Wicked stage show that I found on YouTube.

Back home (with crutches… and pain meds… and nothing to do), Wicked became the place my brain went to when I needed to escape the pain in the moment, or just scream some lyrics (sometimes even writing my own lyrics about my pain).

Knowing I would be sedentary for quite a while, I thought, this movie is going to be the thing that gets me through these next few months.

My partner at the time knew this too, and gifted me the most perfect Christmas present for a Wicked-obsessed girl who can’t walk - a Wicked Lego set.

But less than two months later, I was hit with something as shocking as that Oz tornado was to Nessa Rose (if you know, you know): a breast cancer diagnosis.

During my biopsy, I needed something to distract my brain from what was happening (fun fact: you get to be fully awake for breast biopsies). So I closed my eyes, and sang (in my head) the entirety of “Defying Gravity.” The song is almost 8 minutes long, so it was the perfect choice (10/10 recommend using this strategy to get you through a hard moment in your life). Eventually, I had to move on to singing “Popular,” because the biopsy was still going (they had to take samples from a suspicious lymph node too).

I was sent home after that biopsy, knowing that I had breast cancer, but being told I had to wait a whole week to find out how bad it was and what the plan would be. How the heck would I not spend every single moment of the next week spiraling about worst case scenarios??

Obviously, by watching Wicked (thank goodness it was available to stream by this point!). It really was the only thing that could fully occupy my attention and take my brain out of cancer-land for a few hours.

The next week was spent waiting for results, trying not to spiral too much, but also trying to prepare myself for all possibilities, including losing my boobs. I read about other women throwing farewell parties for their boobs before their mastectomy, and that looked like the way to make the most fun out of something so horrible.

By the time I stepped into my surgical oncologist’s office and she told me I would need a double mastectomy, I had a plan.

I would throw a “Goodbye to my Wicked Tits” party - a Wicked-themed celebration, in honor of my future implant boobs that would forever “defy gravity” (because implants don’t sag like real breast tissue). The theme had layers to it too - had my boobs really become wicked? Or did they have wickedness thrust upon them? Were they my enemies or my friends?

I told this to my doctor, and she laughed and said, “oh, you’re going to be just fine.” Not in a way that downplayed what I was about to experience, but just in a way that said, “I see you, and you’re going to get through this.”

Planning that party became a good way to distract myself from the reality of cancer growing inside my boob, and coming to terms with saying goodbye to my real boobs forever. And I had so much support. My brother designed a Wicked-themed invitation, complete with custom boob-themed production company logos (trust me, it’s worth zooming in on the photo).

I told my friends to bring a pink, green, Wicked and/or boob-themed food or drink, and they really understood the assignment.

I even wrote a Wicked song parody about my diagnosis, and forced one of my friends to sing it with me to kick off the karaoke portion of the evening.

This party brought me so much joy and love in a time when I really needed it.

Over the next few months, I had my mastectomy, went into post-surgery physical therapy, relearned how to walk - and, oh yeah, my six-year relationship ended. I guess the universe figured I already had a dramatic soundtrack playing, so why not toss in another plot twist. It felt like I had just reached Act Two of a musical, when everything really falls apart, and all you can do is wait for some kind of resolution and the pretty song that might eventually make it all make sense (and maybe a broomstick to fly away on in the meantime?).

Since I had recovered enough from surgery by this point to be cleared to do normal activities, I took this opportunity to spend more time with loved ones. I flew to Salt Lake City and got to go see Wicked on stage with my aunt and cousins. It was the perfect distraction - not the kind that takes you out of your feelings, but the kind that gives you a safe, magical space in which to feel them.

Seeing the show on stage, live, just added more fuel to the Wicked fire that was keeping me going.

In September, I had the second stage of my breast reconstruction - the implant exchange surgery. A few days later, I was being rushed into a biopsy of my liver, because doctors had seen something weird on an MRI.

I knew what had gotten me through my first biopsy, so this time, I knew exactly what to ask for. When I got into the procedure room, I heard music playing over some speakers. So I asked the nurse, “can I make a music request?” Obviously, I asked for the Wicked soundtrack. The other nurse, who was in charge of the music, said, “perfect - I already have it downloaded on my phone!”

I immediately knew I was in good hands. For this biopsy, I was partially sedated, which I guess sometimes makes people sleepy, but not me - it just made me extra chatty… about Wicked. I can’t fully remember what happened over the 20-minutes-or-so that the doctor was conducting the biopsy, but I know I spent the entire time yapping about how excited I was for the next installment of the movie coming a few weeks later.

Thank goodness, that biopsy revealed that I do not have cancer in my liver. I was able leave that scare behind, and move onto more fun scary things, like my Elphaba Halloween costume.

As far as we know, there is no more cancer in my entire body. My leg is healing (I just started jogging for two minutes each day!), and so is my heart. I’m still figuring out a lot of things in my life, and my body is still figuring out how to settle out of survival mode, but things are starting to feel much more stable.

I don’t think anyone was surprised when I dressed up as Elphaba for Halloween…

It’s been a whole year since the first Wicked movie came out. I feel like I lived multiple lifetimes in those 12 months. I’m sure I would have gotten through it all without Wicked, but it would have been much harder. I needed the distraction, the escape, and the pure joy that this movie and its soundtrack shot straight into my veins.

Now, of course, the new Wicked movie is out. I’ve already seen it (twice), and I’m just as obsessulated as I was with the first one.

Me and my friends about to see Wicked: For Good!

The end of this Wicked year really does feel like the end of an era. It feels like it marks the end of a period in my life that I will look back on forever. And in the midst of all the “what the $*@! was that year??!” thoughts, I’ll always remember the magic of Wicked being my soundtrack for that whole year, and the power it gave me.

I hope I don’t need these movies in my next year of life in the same way I needed them this time around. And thank goodness, because as of right now, there’s no new one to look forward to. This era of these movies is coming to an end. There are no upcoming press tours with the cast. The actors and the crew are moving on to whatever is next.

And I guess I am too. I made it through this Wicked year. A year that definitely changed me.

Hopefully eventually I’ll look back and see that I’ve been changed for the better. But all I know right now is that I’ve definitely been changed… For Good.