First Weekend Home *SURPRISE PARTY*

Coming home was nothing short of easy. It was actually a pain in my tush. So that first night crawling in my bed was.... heaven. We unloaded the car and I got to see Bella, our Weimeraner. Dexter settled right in, it was almost weird (but then again my cat's a genius). We got in on the Thursday night and little by little people started to figure out I was home. I was half keeping it a secret because I was still pretty sick and half because I wanted time to get settled in. Well because apparently my cat's smarter than me, I posted a facebook status:

Now this is the edited version, but brilliant little me forgot to turn off the location feature originally. So when it popped up as "Gananoque Ontario" people got suspicious. I got it down with in twenty minutes, but rumors spread faster than herpes in the red light district. Friday I slept my life away but my bossman contacted me about potentially working a shift on the Sunday. I. Was. Ecstatic! He played it perfect, something along the lines of someone bailed and he had to work last Sunday and he could do it if I couldn't but he was pretty desperate. Not that he even needed to try that hard, I was jumping up and down at the word shift. I didn't think much of it.

Saturday, after begging and pleading with my dad and his special Lady that I was a competent driver they finally caved to let me borrow one of the vehicles. My dad went with every lie in the book to avoid it though,

"Uhhh My hockey equipment wont fit in Claudette's car, so I have to take the truck."

Ummm I wasn't born yesterday and she doesn't drive a smart car so I think it will fit. Eventually Claudette let me borrow hers to go to a friend's party that to be honest, I was super looking forward too!

The party was a blast! I met some really, really fun people and saw people I haven't seen in years. Learned how to play a new drinking game... "Titties" I think (I didn't actually play but I'll bet I would have taken the cake.) I danced to Britney (I'm glad that most people missed that one hahaah) and even tried to dance with a person. (I should just not be allowed to dance.) I tried a venison dip...

"Ummm Court, you know there is deer meat in that right?"

After a few more hours of debating whether or not to try it because I felt bad eating Bambi, I caved because I was starving, and it was actually pretty good. It was fun, it was exactly what I needed and was a good reminder that even when things don't go perfect or as planned they still have a way of working out. (Shorts Strings? HAHAHAHA)

The next morning everyone was up, we had some left over turkey, watched sports center and then I got the messages about my shift. I was excited to work, but bummed about leaving the party. Apparently they went tobogganing... behind 4wheelers. (OMG- SO Jealous!) Little did I realize... this wouldn't even be a worry once I knew what I was missing it for.

*Thats the bossman representing HARD* ::Thumbs Up::

This should have been a dead give away but I was so excited to have a shift I didn't notice. I came home and got ready. I had a little bit of a hangover, and my weekend was just starting. I joked about calling in sick, but I've maybe done that twice in my life, so it would have never happened. I think I asked my dad and Claudette about a 100x if I looked ok. I wanted to look not only good for my first shift back, first time seeing everybody, but I wanted to look great and most of all... not sick or like I had been. I went all out, extensions and all!

Claudette had a work Christmas party and so I didn't think twice about she and my dad dressing up.

I should have thought twice about them giving me cab money to get home instead of letting me borrow a car. Another dead give away. After we dropped Claudette off, my dad began to drive me to work. Feeling the hangover I was like

"Ugh Now I kind of wish I didn't have to work. Wouldn't it just be nice if it was like a surprise party or something awesome like that."

I was completely kidding, because I honestly never thought it would happen. My dad had the perfect response

"HAH, yeah right kid, like that would happen."

I believed him. We pulled in across the street which I also should have thought was weird because my dad doesn't follow the rules at Spank's and parks in their private lot. According to him

"I'm V.I.P."

I just assumed it was because he was dropping me off. We got out of the car and I saw 1/3 of my bosses and one of the bouncers, E, walking in. I also saw nobody inside which I thought was odd, but I figured it was still early. I hugged them, and they seemed not as excited to see me as I originally hoped they would be. I later found out it was because they were late and thought they had ruined the surprise. Nope, I was oblivious.

They all let me walk in first and when I walked in the door it was a blur. It all happened so fast and so slow at the same time. So many things were just "off" and there was so much to process that my chemo brain was on overdrive. I was freaking out in the car that I wouldn't remember what Beer we had on tap, yet this was a whole other ball game of

"why isn't my brain working fast enough to figure this out."

I saw balloons. Lots of balloons (I just assumed the balloons were for the Christmas party I was told I was going to be working.) My manager K was just standing to the right of the bar, by himself. It was weird because he was just standing there, and just seemed like he was waiting for something. I went to hug him, and then saw people crouching behind the bar. Still not even processing what was going on, because my mind was jumping from balloons, to manager, to beer taps (I needed to know for my shift) then to behind the bar. When I finally focused in on the dozens of people behind the bar, they jumped and screamed

"SURPRISE, Welcome Home!"

All I remember while all of this was taking place was thinking,

"Something's not right, Something's not right. I'm so confused."

I started shaking and all I could manage to say was

"Ummmm I guess this means I'm not working????"

"Wait, is this for me?"

As if the chalkboard that said "Welcome Home Courtney" wasn't a clue. People began to swarm me with hugs and my thoughts changed to

"Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't cry!"

I actually went into shock.

"OMG is this actually happening? OMG Happy tears are coming!"

I didn't even register that my bestie and personal trainer A was sitting at a table! Someone I once worked with told me

"Courtney's like an ambulance, you hear her coming before you ever see her!"

hahah E, could not have been more accurate with a description of me! I think I tackled A. It was funny too because she had been messaging me while I was in the car asking about what I was up too. You sneaky bugger!

There was Cake and flowers and I tried eggnog for the first time. O outdid herself there.

SO many people came that I was so excited to see. It was like surprise after surprise after surprise. I had a couple drinks, and was just loving catching up with everyone.

So both my parents are really awesome and they know everything that goes on in my life. It's why I let my dad read my blogs and probably don't have a filter. Like I can talk about anything with my parentals and I love that.

Anyway, the party from the night before was at a guys house whom I've been talking too for a while, we've known each other for YEARS, but hadn't seen each other in years up until this past summer. So he had been texting me this night asking about work and if I was there yet, if it served food, etc. Basically questions that seemed completely unaware that something was up other than me going to work. I was at the back of the bar talking to some people when I turned around and saw three hotties walk in. I think my heart fell out of my chest. I turned around, jaw dropped and cupped my face. I couldn't believe my eyes because a whole new set of shock waves engulfed my body. Was I hallucinating because he doesn't exactly live in town, and this just seemed too good to be true, not plausible and did I mention I was concerned I was hallucinating? I ran and hugged him and actually think there may have been jumping up and down, more hands over mouth in shock and then a

"WHAT! (Super loud pitched)..What are you doooing here? (Girly, shocked whiny cutesy sounding)"

I didn't give him a chance to finish before the whole

"Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't cry"

mantra came flooding back into my mind. It was just too much excitement to handle, the surprises were legit going to put me over the edge. I was still cupping my face when I couldn't contain the excitement and shock any longer and was like

"Oh my gosh I'm sorry I need a second"

turned around, paced a few steps trying to process what was happening and then I think I hugged him and the other two guys again. It was then that I realized the other two, had also brought their special ladies and that was when I officially lost it! I basically had developed girl crushes on them the night before and was just in awe that they had come too! Hugs galore and my night had officially just hit EPIC status. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, that happened. I asked how he knew about my party, and he told me something along the lines of this... and Dad #ForTheWin!

"Well your dad actually found me on facebook and messaged me telling me about it. I first saw the message from JD pop up and my first reaction was '$#!% What did I do?' but then I read it and he told me about it."

My mind was blown, because this meant they had known all along at the party the previous night, and that morning, and not a soul had given it away! We did shots and we drank and if ever there was a moment to forget about all the $#!%%y stuff that had happened to me the previous months... tonight did just that and then some!

Unfortunately they had to work the next morning and couldn't stay but my night was full of more surprises. I continued to see people I hadn't seen in what felt like forever and felt so incredibly blessed. I didn't even mind how hungover I was the next two days because every second of the previous weekend had been worth it. My body knew I needed this... I can be as positive, and try to be as healthy as I want to be, but deep down, I'm still a 25 year old girl who has had years ripped away from her. I don't feel guilty for a little fun and my body felt better just long enough for me to enjoy this weekend. I can't thank the people involved enough, because honestly words will never describe how grateful I was for every second. For the people who weren't invited, my dad did the best he could and hey I didn't even know, so I couldn't have invited ya. For the best bosses ever who did give me a real shift a few days later... thank you thank you thank you! I know I'm one blessed little cookie and I don't forget it for a second.
*Managers and other sign I failed to notice upon arrival*

*1/3 of the bossmen- He even played me Britney, which in all my excitement took me one minute too long to realize!*

Thank you Claudette and Daddio- You guys rock!

The morning/ arrival home. Worth every second of the hangover... but the drinking has ceased, (at least until New Years and then will prob take a hiatus for a bit.)

So thank you to everyone! I made new friends, saw old ones and was reminded why this is my home! If my mom and sis had have been there this night would have just been over the moon. I don't think I would have been able to handle any more surprises though!
For those wondering- the first REAL shift back was a blast! Saw others I hadn't seen in too long and just... what a week home.
The only words I have are THANK YOU~
p.S. Also got my Scrapbook from the event held at Spankys. I can't wait to read it! <3 *First Shift Back* (Getting ready and then rocking out to Britney in the car on my way there!)

*Some more pics from the party*

The Drive Back Home & Of Course The Complications Involved

So as I stared out the window, the white lines on the pavement flew by... the colliding lines turning to one long white strip from the speed. The big signs that told you where you were.... are blue. The license plates no longer full of crazy slogans and colors but simple white and the blizzard subsided. The money had color (and smelled pretty if you were in possession of a fifty or hundo- no lie like maple syrup) and people no longer hovered in the left passing lane eliciting expletives from my dad while we drove. All of these were sure signs, it was official, we were back in Canada, I am home.

I was supposed to be here last Wednesday but in true Courtney fashion, nothing goes to plan. Saturday I was vomiting on the side of the road. Monday I had my very last doctors appointment of 2013 and it was fabulous! (We'll get to that later.) I got home however and that's when the fun really began.

It was like I was in radiation all over again. All of the symptoms were back. I could not hold anything in my body. It did not want to stay, no matter which end it came out. Projectile vomiting does a number on your chest, its like the ab work out from hell. It was never ending. My Dad was driving down from Canada on Tuesday and we we're "planning" on leaving on Wednesday morning.

Well Tuesday came and went. But worse, nothing stayed in me. Tears began to flow because there was intense pain. Every time I even took a large sip of something, my tummy would feel like it was bubbling and then out it would come. It was becoming increasingly obvious that something was seriously wrong when I slept through the Victoria's Secret Fashion show.(Legit something I look forward too every year, maybe almost as much as or more so than the Super Bowl! I mean hello, its the sexiest night on television!)

Mom jumped into action and doctors got on board and early Wednesday morning I was hooked up to an iv pumping fluids. Still not enough. There was no way I was getting into a car on Wednesday. I had two options; let my dad take just my stuff and go up ten days later with my mom and sister, or pray my dad could post pone his stuff so we could leave on Thursday. Thank the heavens we got to go with the latter.

So here I am. Pumped up with one more liter of fluids before we left, and not a wink of sleep. I chose not to eat today because I needed to make it through this 9 hour car ride unscathed. Fluids on the ride were kept to a minimum too.
(The early part of our drive- lovely PA)

So what am I sick with? Who the hell knows. It could be residual radiation side effects. Like really though, it's been over a month- they could give me a break by now. That would be nice. It could be some type of flu, but I never got a fever and had no aches and pains. Or it could have been from my doctors apt on Monday... Hormone insertion.

I've mentioned it before in earlier blogs but the chemo and transplant basically wiped out my body's ability to produce its own hormones. They're more important than people give them credit for, i.e. not just for sex drive and clearly I don't need them for that. They help with memory, and muscles and energy and a lot of stuff. So we have to supplement them. It's tiny little pellets inserted into my hip. They numb, slice, insert and then patch me up. Its a simple in office procedure but it hurts like a bugger for a day or two until the numbing meds wear off.

My doc who takes care of all this is who discovered the cancer in the first place. She's been a rock for me. Set set me up with Dr. D whom I love and was there for me during a particularly un-fun surgery at Lankenau when quite a few things went wrong. Basically she's been keeping me going for the past 5+ years. Knows me inside and out, literally. Her response to seeing me after a few months of treatment was shock over how much healthier I looked. Her response to my lady bits- that they were doing fantastic. She even went over with me certain ways to make sex more enjoyable when that day comes. It really is all about finding what works for every individual, this majorly includes angles. SO it was a great appointment.

I got sick that night though when I got home. Could the hormones and my sickness be correlated? Well as one who knows her body very very well, I don't think so. I've also been taking these for years. One of the few things I remember from Psyc 101 "Correlation does not prove causation."

Regardless I'm home and that's after the MAJOR blizzard we went through in between Syracuse and Watertown. I actually may have white knuckled that whole part.

"Dad. We have some seriously precious cargo on board."

To which he replied

"Relax I've got this."

To me:

"NO SERIOUSLY SLOW DOWN! Dexter is on board and nothing can happen to him. I didn't go through months of treatment to die in a blizzard in PULASKI, NEW YORK!"

He laughed, I may have tried to convince him that we HAD to have our 4ways on and we survived. Barely.

Staring at those white stripes blend into the line that was leading me home was almost like watching a shooting star which held someones wish tight. I fell asleep finally for a little bit but woke up just in time to see Peterborough lights.

As we drove through the city... tears welled up. This is why I was working so hard to get better. Because my life is here and this is the first step to allowing it to begin again. I must proceed with baby steps, but I'll crawl to greater heights than I ever had before, because I have such a greater appreciation for stuff now. I have been given the chance to really evaluate what I want to do with this life that I have been so blessed to have been given a 5th chance at. FIFTH. Yes I may have fought for that blessing but I fought like hell and here I am! I'm going to live passionately. A little bit selfishly. Much healthier. But these are some of the ways I'm going to regrow back into not the person I was, but the person I have always wanted and deep down know I can be.

I love this little city that is too small to be a big city but to big to be a small one. I'm ready... well still sick, but ready.

Some This, Some That, #NerdAlert and Cat.

Today was an awesome day. I woke up at quarter to ten after my mom just walked around the upstairs like a buzzing alarm clock.

"Courtney, Court, CEEBEE, COURTNEY, coooooourtttttneeeey, COOOOOURT!"

After about three "I"M UP"'s I finally got up. I threw on my long grey and black maxi skirt and black lulu tank. I don't know what I would do with out my lulu, its just.... no really I don't know what I would do. My friend D tweeted a little while back

"One does not simply throw out Lulu"

or something to that effect and I remember laughing hysterically because its so true. I still own everything I've ever bought from there, even from when I first discovered it, about 8 years ago. I have some haggard lulu pieces exhausted from being worn to death, but I just simply cannot part. If there is a place, where lulu is not acceptable attire, I think I get uncomfortable. I've had friends literally stop me from walking out the door, because I don't fool them. I did not take leggings and make them bar chic. I'm in leggings, not even like dressy ones with shine or faux leather but lulu ones. They've busted me with a

"nice try, now go change, we're going to a country club (::insert anywhere fancy, ok not even that fancy here::) for dinner not the library!"

HAHAH Ok but enough about my obsession.

I was bouncing off the walls today. I couldn't sit still, and I don't know if its because I finally got an amazing sleep, which in actuality, I didn't or what, but I was just in a long overdue good mood. My body was starting to feel a little bit better having had the weekend off from chemo. The Eagles played tonight (AND OMG WON) and I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for the season to start. (Although it makes me really sad, because there's nothing I love more than working in a sports bar, and chirping customers on their "football knowledge" or lack thereof. Its a wonder I make any money.)

My mum and I headed into radiation and I was so me. I have these days where I'm feeling good, I'm perky, I'm loud, and I'm just the bubbly blonde that people know and expect. Then there are other days where I emulate Anna Wintour's signature scowl behind HUGE sunglasses. (She's the editor and chief of Vogue, basically who the Devil Wears Prada was based off of.)

On the way to radiation I saw a white SUV with Ontario plates. The homesick pangs hit me hard. I should have known from a mile back that they were from Canada, you can just tell. Philly drivers cant drive, like at all, and New Jersey ones either anally assault you by making you fear for your life, or sit, in the passing lane, on their phones with a confused look on their faces. Long story short, it was nice to see some fellow Canadians, even if they did, dare I say it, not realize I was one of their own and think I was a New Jersian.... GASP!

I think it hit home even more so because there was a benefit back home for me this past weekend that I couldn't attend. It was just so cool to see first hand the support of friends and family. Its really frustrating because I feel more confident with words on paper (or screen) than I do anything else but how do u adequately thank people. People donating their time and money and how can you honestly show them how grateful you are. If I could, I would write every individual a thank you note, but its just not realistic, although I would be the one to try. So thank you to all who were involved, A, D, R, K, C, K... etc. etc.

My mom was on a roll with the funnies today. I developed a twitter page for SassyBlonde (You can follow @SassyBlondeCBG) because I find I forget so many things through out the day. I think my most common hashtag will be #ShitMyMomSays. For example,

"Court I'm driving, can you cloud message that for me."

I was like Uh mom, what do you mean by cloud message. I'm thinking something related to Icloud. She's like

"You know the green cloud- to send messages."

I burst out with a

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA Do you mean text or Imessage."

She's so cute, once again so smart but sooo just ... hahah love you mom. ooooh But I can't let her get off that easy. After radiation we went to get food. Take advantage when I have an appetite. So we went to get pizza slices at Vitos (we're going to try the Paleo diet so we splurged). As we're pulling in she see's a black Acura SUV, A black Honda SUV and a black Hyundai SUV.

"LOOK they're twins!!!"

I was like

"Uh mom, they're all different, the only thing in common is the color."

My dad doesn't get off so easy either though. He's a gem too... haha as much as I make fun of the rentals, we're so alike. I couldn't resist, I actually laugh every time I look at this. Can you say #NerdAlert

Today was a good day, but I got home and finally it started to hit me. Its amazing how fast I feel it, nauseous, tired. I mean in retrospect we're microwaving my insides. I sat on the couch, I watched criminal minds. I read, but I just couldn't have it. As I was walking into the hospital this morning, I got a flash of nausea, and I knew it was just me being classically conditioned to feel like $#!% from the hospital. I didn't want my couch to have that same association, so I ended up falling asleep upstairs. It was needed, I wasn't feeling so hot and I didn't want a repeat of last week. Last week was terrible for me. I started the week off with my lunch box all ready to go- kids went back to school, I went back to radiation.

Mid way through the week I was hating my life. On Wednesday at chemo, as I sat in my chemo chair, I zeroed in on two trash cans mentally calculating which one was closer. I was pale, I was not feeling well and I was ready to just hide.

Days like today remind me I'm going to feel better... eventually. I'm going to get back to my old self. Its going to suck and take time but it will happen! I have friends and family who's support is out of this world. My Eagles are winning. I've got good books, finally a Christian Grey to look forward too, and now a new fondness for Sons of Anarchy because of it. My parentals are hilarious and MY SIS IS BACK FROM A FESTIVAL! Finally butt head, I've missed ya. Most importantly, I've got Dex. As I so proudly proclaimed to my bff back home

"I send selfies, trying to look hot and my cat photo bombs me" #ThatsHowIRoll (selfie not attached)

Flashback: January 3, 2004: How it all began.

Flashback January 3, 2004.

My parents met when they were in the seventh grade in a small town 2 hours east of Toronto. They were married, had my sister and I, and we got to live all over because my dad was a professional hockey player in the NHL. When they got divorced, we were living in New Jersey. My dad chose to return to the small Canadian town and my mum stayed in New Jersey. Initially I stayed with my mum for a few years in New Jersey, but I hated everything about it, because I felt like it hated me. I just did not fit in, and so I moved in with my dad in Canada when I was 15. I like to joke that I was raised by guys, a hockey team of sorts and its why I speak dude fluently. It was hard leaving my mum and my sister, but it worked out well for us. So January of 2004, I had been officially living with my dad since the summer, Christmas had just passed and my sister was staying with my dad and I for the holidays. My mum just so happened to be in town as well visiting her mother, my grandmother. As far as all that was concerned, the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

My dad had gotten a brand new LCD TV for the holidays and we were so excited to watch "Finding Nemo" that night. My dad was broadasting for TSN and had to be on the air the next morning, so I made sure to keep quiet so he would look good on the air, not tired. My dad had the biggest couch of all time. It was fabulous. Natalie and I snuggled up to watch Nemo. We grabbed some popcorn and started the movie. About half way through the movie, I tasted blood in my mouth. I assumed a kernel had cut my gum. I played it off as nothing had happened. My Dad was in bed by this point so my boyfriend T snuck over (we started dating a few weeks after I had moved to Canada in June- his sneaking over is not as scandalous as it sounds). When the movie was over, the bleeding had increased in my mouth but I thought nothing of it or at least tried to think nothing of it.

It was late so Natalie went to bed. I told T to sleep in our guest room, because something seemed off about the blood in my mouth but I didn't want to alarm him. That's one of my downfalls, I ignore all the warning signs because I want to assume the best, I don't ever want to burden anyone with something that could potentially be nothing. He went to sleep in the guest room, and I grabbed a large plastic cup. The blood was accumulating a lot quicker and I had to spit it out in the cup to avoid swallowing it. I remember feeling light headed and woozy but still thought it was nothing serious, because I didn't want anything to be seriously wrong. I didn't want to wake my dad up to have him take me to the E.R. for it to be just a cut on my gum from popcorn, and potentially ruin his broadcasting career. So I just kept my cup, spitting in my cup.

My room was baby blue. I had baby blue walls and sheets and a comforter with white trim. I had a white dresser with baby blue drawers and baby blue closet doors with a full size mirror. The headboard of my bed was a white picket fence my mum had picked out of a trash and refurbished for my room. I had pictures from my cheerleading days in NJ, and posters of kittens. I wore a baby blue tee that night and crawled into bed with my cup. I started coughing because I was beginning to swallow the blood that was accumulating in my stomach, there was just so much of it. I grabbed tissues to try and wipe the blood away from my face but knew I looked like a character from a low budget vampire movie. I was glad I asked T to stay in the other room, because I didn't want him to see me this way. I eventually passed out, probably from being so lightheaded.

When I woke up the next morning I instantly knew that it was worse and this was an extremely dangerous situation. I had a raging headache. Everything was blurry. My sheets were no longer blue, my walls were no longer blue. There were puddles of blood everywhere. There was a spray pattern along my sheets no doubt from coughing blood in my sleep. Everything was covered in blood. I vomited copious amounts of blood up, from everything I had swallowed in my sleep. It was early in the morning because my dad was up getting ready. At this point, I knew something was seriously amiss and I could no longer hide it, nor should I. I yelled for my sister and she came rushing in.

"Nat, please go get dad."

To which any unruly concerned little sister would reply

"WHY? Court what's wrong? Tell me?"

I choked back a yell and simply said again

"Seriously Natalie, GO GET DAD. PLEASE!"

My dad rushed in wearing a brown suit and as he walked in my doorway stopped cold in his tracks. With absolute fear in his voice stammered,

"What the hell happened?"

The first words out of my mouth were

"I'm so sorry. I don't know whats wrong with me, it started last night but I didn't want you to be tired today so I didn't say anything and I'm sorry because I think something is seriously wrong."

Tears started to flow as it became a reality that this wasn't me being stoic, but something dire and I was urgently ill. My Dad jumped into action,

"Call T and have him come pick up your sister, that way we can head to the hospital right now, I'll call your mother and have her meet us on the way."

Little did he realize that T was two bedrooms over, but I left that part out. Last thing I needed was to feel like hell AND get busted for unauthorized sleepovers in the same day. However, if I was ever going to get out of it with the sympathy vote, that day was the day. My Dad went to change and call my mum and I woke up T and explained what happened. We left immediately for the hospital. I didn't pack a bag, or bring anything. I knew I was sick but had no idea with what, and no idea how severe it was.

It was a 45 minute car ride to the hospital because we lived on the outskirts of town. It was long and quiet. I looked at my dad and said

"I don't think this is just an iron deficiency anymore."

We met my mom at the hospital and she took one look at me, and knew. It was the first time I had seen her since she arrived in town. I was pale as anything and covered head to toe in bruises. If you didn't know I was sick you would have thought someone beat me silly. There was no waiting in the E.R., they took me right back and began blood work. The doctor said he knew exactly what to test for because he was pretty sure he knew. While we waited for the tests I was starving. T went to get me Harvey's because all I wanted was a cheeseburger. When he finally got it to me, I was too weak to even lift it to my mouth. There was so much blood pooling in my stomach that I couldn't stop vomiting. They had i.v.'s running fluids but it wasn't helping. I tried to take a bite and savored it while it was in my mouth but simply could not swallow. The simplest task of taking a bite of one of my favorite foods on earth was impossible. T patiently tried to continue feeding me, but it would simply not work. The doctors came back in, and we knew they had nothing but bad news.

"We need to get her to Toronto immediately. She is DIC (disseminated intravascular coagulation) and needs blood transfusions. We can't be sure which type, or how severe but we believe she has leukemia and with out further testing and treatment she may only have a week or two. So we need to act immediately."

They arranged to have an ambulance take me to Sick Kids in Toronto, and my father rode with me. I was in and out of consciousness the whole ride. I had one of those turquoise kidney shaped puke buckets and it was full to the brink of bloody tissues. I kept spitting the blood into the tissues. I knew I was sick. I knew it was serious, but I had no idea I had cancer. If anything, I was excited at first.

My parents lived in different countries, I was the baby of the group of my friends. I was the new girl at my school, and I had an older boyfriend. I craved attention and needed any sort of validation to feel secure in my new roles in the new life I had created for myself. I thought to myself,

"I'm going to head to the hospital for a few weeks, get a lot of attention and be back and at it in a couple of weeks."

I had no idea what was ahead of me. No idea what so ever. Here I am, nine and a half years later... still wondering when I'm going to wake up from this dream. Still trying to come to terms with how this happened. Still... fighting.

The signs were all there. When I got to LCS (My high school) I was in the best shape of my life. I played on their basketball team and hockey team. I trained as hard as I could everyday and ate really healthy. In December I said to my hockey coach

"I'm so sorry, I don't know whats wrong with me. I'm training just as hard, if not twice as hard as the other girls but I am always exhausted and feel like I can't keep up."

I was taking advil like it was pez from a dispenser because I constantly had headaches. I was covered in bruises to the point, I had an adult ask me about my relationship with T. T didn't go to my highschool, because he was a cottage boy from Toronto. He was an angel and they couldn't have been more off base asking me, but based on how I looked you never knew. I attributed the bruises to hockey. I only joined the team because my school didn't have a cheerleading squad and I could skate, and well! I learned how to skate before I could walk. At the winter formal, while getting ready at a friends house, I walked into her dresser. It just grazed right below my shoulder but with in minutes I had an enormous bruise. I would think to my self when things like this happened

"Wow, I must have walked into it a lot harder than I realized."

The final give away was my period. I was always bleeding. Somedays it was so bad I couldn't go to school. My blood was clearly trying to tell me something was wrong. I just always had an excuse.

"Oh maybe I messed up my birth control. Oh Hockey was a little tough today. I have headaches because I'm dehydrated. I'm tired because I'm not sleeping enough. I can't keep up at practice because I'm not training hard enough."

T's family had looked into it and said that it sounded like I had an iron deficiency because I was not a fan of red meat. Nobody knew, but nobody wanted the reality to be true.

Canadian health care is not the best, and I will gladly and openly talk about it's downfalls. All of this was happening in November, I couldn't get a doctors appointment until January 6th. I went into the hospital on January 3. Round one. Ding Ding Ding.... and the race was off. That was how it began...

$#!% Just Got Real (Part 2)

Here is the second part of Tuesday

We left Target and were off to Cooper. We had to get pre-admission bloodwork to check my clotting factors before my surgery the following Wednesday. I liked getting my blood work at Cooper, because there was never a wait (or at least one longer than 5 minutes) and they got me on the first stick. My veins are terrible. After all of the chemo and i.v.s and PIC lines and broviacs, they're just donezo.

(PIC Lines and Broviacs are temporarily permanent IV lines. They go directly into your major arteries to administer chemo and meds faster. My blood had a severe clotting problem when I was dealing with my leukemia, so I would have to have them replaced constantly. This wreaked havoc on my veins, they had to reroute themselves and became very superficial. Therefore very hard to draw blood on me. I eventually had a port coming out of my stomach, because the line went directly into the artery in my groin. Honestly, I can't remember any of the terms or names. LOVE my chemo brain.)

E, who is one of my favorite phlebotomist's smiled when she saw me and we got to chatting.

"Weren't you just here a few days ago? Why do you have to come in so often?"

I was like...

"Yup that was me, get used to seeing a lot more of me. I've been re-diagnosed with cancer."

We kept chatting and as she was aiming to insert the needle I thought to myself

"Yea, I'm always in here because you guys are the only ones that can get me on the first stick."

I didn't say it out loud though because I didn't want to jinx it. Sure enough, the vein paused and if we had waited the blood would have hemolyzed. (Had too much oxygen so the sample wouldn't be viable.) She had that look of dammit, the one you see on people's faces right as the cops lights start flashing behind you. I told her not to worry and to re-stick me. It wasn't worth risking a bad sample. So she switched to my left arm and I showed her the vein that my friend J who is a nurse pointed out to me at the concert while we were talking about my bad veins. It worked. While the blood was flowing, somehow it came up that I was from Canada and

"OH thats why I remember you. I couldn't place you at first but you're the super sweet one. I knew there was something different about you, and it's because you're so nice. Hows school going?"

That honestly never gets old to hear. I love how Canadians have that reputation and thats why I'm also so proud to be one. When I was little my dad and I got in a fight at our Canadian cottage because he had put the Canadian Flag above the American one. We had been living in the states my whole life, so I identified as American. I was probably 11 or 12 at this point. I got mad and was like

"DAD we should have the American one higher because we're better!"

My dad then said to me

"Hunny, Its always better to be Canadian! We're way better, and you should be proud and realize how lucky you are to be Canadian!"

I rebelled by claiming "American Woman" as my theme song by Lenny Kravitz for the next few summers. However, I'll always remember that story because of how strongly I appreciate being Canadian now. I just don't appreciate their health care. That's only because I'm privileged enough to have private insurance, but this is a whole other debate, seriously HEATED debate, from personal negative experiences. (Here's my old cottage which I desperately miss with the proper flag!)

Oh and this one: I made out of Molson Canadian Beer Labels. It was decorating my hospital room during my transplant.

So back to E, my phlebotomist. I told her

"School is good, and now that I'm here doing treatment instead of working my tush off, I'll have a lot more time to dedicate to it."

It was nice that she remembered

"You're going to be the big event planner right?"

I said

"Yes! Hopefully. I'm taking my International Certification in Event and Wedding Planning. So something along those lines."

She then finished filling the viles of blood and we were off to our appointment.

We went to the building next door and my mom knows EVERYONE here. She used to work in this building but they wouldn't hold her job when I had leukemia the first time. My treatment was being done in Toronto and she didn't leave my side. I needed her by my side. She also worked for a .... hmmm B!%@#. Its the consensus among the whole place, so I don't care who sees it, if they see it on here. After a couple brief hello's we went to the office. It was very nice. Once again, a lot of women over the age of 50. It was becoming apparent how rare this was for a 25 year old, because I still hadn't seen anyone even remotely close to my age. I guess that's also a good thing, because I wouldn't wish this on anyone, especially someone close to my age.

We checked in and waited. The room was much hotter than the rest of the building. No body else seemed to mind but I was sweltering. I took off my sweater and scarf and still felt like an egg in a frying pan, sizzling away. The moments started to tick by. I was texting a friend back home about Camo lingerie and so I was at least amused.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you were to take me hunting, could I wear hot pink instead of Orange. Its just not my color"

His response was pretty good

"HAHAHAHA well not if you wanna obey the law lol. But it sounds kind of hot lol."

So I was at least amused in the office because this convo escalated into camo clothing options. The time was passing so slowly and I was getting extremely nauseous. My back was in pain but I just tried to ignore it. My mum finally said

"Courtney, just take the perc."

As I usually say when I do

"Ok fine, I guess its time for the percolator."

The clock continued to tick and as in true NJ fashion, we had to listen to some Jersey lady B!%(#ing about something. Another lady and her perfect weave had fallen asleep, and we were stuck with a god awful soap opera. A lady came around with her snack cart and I think I fell in love. She had the peanut butter crackers and I was sold. I was starting to feel ten times better. I had no idea that the pain in my back was so bad that it was manifesting as nausea and heat. About an hour had passed of waiting and my mum finally piped in. The doc was running late but on a positive note, it was because he was thorough and didn't rush us out.

Finally after the waiting room was almost empty it was my turn. I went in and got weighed and all my vitals done. I then went back out to the waiting room to wait AGAIN for the actual doctor. At least we were in Voorhees though and not in the city so we didn't have to worry about getting caught in Philly traffic. We finally got to head back to an exam room. I was told to

"I know I know, undress from the waist down and throw the orange sheet over my lady bits."

I had been through this a time or two. I kind of missed the oven mitts though. So, I undressed, crawled up, and waited.

Dr. W came in and looked so nice, but was very quiet and reserved. He reminded me a lot of one of my docs from CHOP. He went over my history and then did a pelvic exam.

"I've gotten more action this week then I have in the past year!"

This poor doc was clearly not one used to dealing with the likes of me. The pelvic was a longer process than expected but he was very thorough. He estimated that it was Stage 2B, and to determine if it hit stage 3, further testing would need to be done. Once again I was anally assaulted but it just gets to a point where nothing surprises you anymore. He said the cancer was mainly on my left side, I already knew this though. I could feel it, it was my body after all. Pelvics are so awkward, the doc stands there with his gloves on while a nurse loads him up with lube. I'm sure its like something a little more technical, but it basically does the same thing. Anyway...

He finished, and told me I could get dressed and we headed to his office. At this point in the day, I was EXHAUSTED. I hadn't been to sleep since 7ish the night before and had been at doctors offices all day.

In his office he talked about my lower back pain. He explained how because the pain was localized to one spot, that it is worry some and we should get a bone scan because its not something we should just pump pain meds into and ignore. That is was possible the PET scan missed something and there could be a metastasis or tumor there as well and it would be wise to rule it out. This was punch in the gut number one. It got scheduled for the next day.

The part that killed me was his explanation. My other docs had explained what was going on, but Dr. W really explained. He drew diagrams and really emphasized how serious this was. I was no longer concerned about my future sex life, because I wouldn't be able to have one if I wasn't alive. He went over where they will radiate but how the radiation could cause complications in my bone marrow maybe sparking my leukemia as well as other complications. This was gut punch number two. He went over risks and possibilities.

Something about his explanation hit me. $#!% just got real. I realized, for the first time that this was serious. This wasn't about me being funny on a blog. This wasn't about YAY I get to go back to the states and spend time with my mum and sis who I was missing. This wasn't about F#@%, this is screwing up my jobs, my school, my internship, my job interview and my personal training. This was OMG, I'm fighting for my life. Again.

I needed a minute and stepped out of the office and went out into the atrium. We were on the second floor and I leaned over the wooden balcony and looked over the building. Tears flooded my eyes, and this was something I just couldn't handle because normally I get quiet when I'm upset but I wasn't upset, I was scared. Really scared.

Emotions I recognized from battles past, "This is going to hurt", "there could potentially be complications and knowing me and my history, most likely." "I'm going to have to figure out how to put my OSAP on hold and my bills, what about the life I left behind, I can't work." Fear, Anxiety, Stress all balled into one flowed from my eyes like a creek in the middle of forest. As busy as the hospital was, I was there alone on that balcony. Fighting with my emotions, wanting them to disappear. Wishing for my blonde shield to protect me with a smile. Dr. W came out and broke me out of my own little world, he tapped me on the shoulder in the loving "I'm so sorry to bother you but I didn't want to just leave on bad terms kind of way." It was endearing, he told me "If you need anything please call me."

My mum and I went to the downstairs floor where we started making calls. We had so many questions. We got home and I called my best friend K. By this point, I had reverted back to being stoic and avoiding my emotions with humor. She calmed me down though. I talked it out with her and ended up laughing. All I wanted to do was sleep. My other friend H texted me "I am so sorry to hear this babe. I know it is essentially the exact opposite of what you wanted to hear. Please know that I love you, am thinking about you, and would do anything for you. All we can do is take this one step at a time. A second opinion is just that until tests come back." She was the voice of reason in a parade of screams.

The rest of that night was a blur, I talked to my dad, and fell asleep. I woke up and went downstairs a few hours later to get some food. My mum was just about to jump in the shower but heard me and came down. I made a salad and when I went to get the cheese saw it was moldy. I was crushed. I was exhausted and hungry and wanted this specific salad. I had gotten something like it at Jimmy Guacos in Peterborough and was craving it. For some reason all I have wanted the last few days has been salsa. Not store bought, in a jar crappy stuff, but the real stuff. My mum and I hopped in the car, went to wawa, got my cheese and came back and it was delicious. Chopped lettuce, guacamole, salsa, grilled chicken, black olives, pico de gallo, sour cream, chedder cheese, and lots of green hot sauce. It was delicious, exactly what I wanted. I came back up to bed, and my mum could tell my stress level was through the roof. I took a Xanax and was out. We had to be up super early for my bone scan the next day.

It's not the results that are stressing me out, its the not knowing. I just want to get started with treatment. I'm sick and tired of hearing "We need more information" or "We need to do more tests" and then having to wait for them. Once we have a game plan and know what we're dealing with I'll be ok. My biopsy on the lymph nodes is next wednesday so 6 days away. I'm hoping in 8 days I'll know. I'll know what kind of radiation we're doing, where we're doing it on my body, and at what hospital. I'll be able to research the side effects to know what to expect and then I'll be ready for chemo. We're close but not there yet. I had a moment of weakness but I'm back. I'm ready to do this.

I crawled in bed, and grabbed Dex. I was out.