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.

Its Not Bad News, But Its Not Good News Either- Pet Scan & Results Take 2

I want to preface all of this with: I will not worry until I'm officially given a reason too! So please don't you worry either!

How this post originally started:
So the day I have been waiting for is almost here. Like legit days away. My final results, my time to start packing. My dad on his way down to get me and take me back to the great white north. I should be ecstatic, I should be over the moon, but I think the anxiety from it has thrown me into an anxiety induced flu.

There are so many factors, am I upset over leaving my mom and sis. Maybe leaving some new friendships that I forgot how much I missed? Maybe the idea of being away from my doctors scares me. Honestly for the first time in a really long time I'm having a hard time breaking down my feelings.

Its difficult in the sense that I want to go home and jump right back into my life. I want to work and see all the people I've missed and have some fun. However a BIG downside to me, is I don't like people seeing me when I'm sick. Also when I'm not feeling well, I try not to show it. Its this whole being perceived as the "Sick Girl" complex I have. Because I'm stubborn like this, I usually end up sicker or some way that sucks. Its basically my body telling me to slow down.

I also have this thing about letting people down. Its the worst feeling in the world. I don't want people to think I don't want to see them, or this or that. I have trouble vocalizing how I'm feeling and what I need. Sometimes its because people don't really understand or get it, and other times its because I'm straight up stubborn. This is the time I need to make ME the number one priority, but that is extremely difficult for me.
(Written before today obviously- and below was written after)

It was one of those nights where the minutes on the clock crawled by. I tried everything, watching tv, instagram, twitter, reading, snuggling Dex, but nothing worked. I knew I had to be up by 6:30am but my body would not shut down. It was time for reinforcements. HELLO XANAX! My sis and mum came in at one point and my sister took one look at me

"She's stoned!"

My mum in her worried voice

"Why are you stoned honey?"

It was actually the most adorable concerning voice ever.

"Because mum, this test tomorrow is really important and I'm really nervous!"

They left my room to let me try and sleep but my mum came back in, clearly having been in deep thought. Actually she may not have even left the room... XANAX illusions.

"Why didn't you tell me you were nervous? You have no reason to be! Wanna come sleep in my room?"

My mum tried to comfort me but my drugged out stupor was in full effect and I push people away when I'm nervous and xanax stoned. I also have this thing where I don't like to cuddle- I know I'm weird. I get quiet and I hide. Eventually I fell asleep.

She woke me up the next morning and I was starving. For the test I wasn't allowed any carbs, sugar, caffeine, or fruit for 72 hours prior to the test- so basically it was the diet from hell. I wanted a pizza and stat. I rolled over and created my cocktail. Panic attacks were inevitable and I just wasn't in the mood. I wanted the results. I wanted to hear,

"You're in the clear, go home, be normal."

I pooled all of my pills in my hand, and took a gulp to wash away the rippling waves of fear. I threw on lulu's, grabbed a camo scarf and my eagles hat, I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

I don't remember the car ride, I don't remember waiting.

I do remember getting my IV, I remember being injected with the radioactive dye, and drinking the god awful barium.

I remember being left alone so no one else would be exposed to the radiation and because I thought I was hilarious... again... listening to "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons on my Ipod.

I sat there for an hour, and only remember listening to that one song. Thinking about how much I wanted to go home. Not even really understanding why because I'm not unhappy here, at all. I have amazing friends here too. I love living with my mom and sister and Tux and the cats. My sister is the funniest in her weird way and my mom makes me feel like I'm always wrapped in a warm blanket of love. But I have my friends back home too, I have my Dad and C and Bella and my grandmother. I have my jobs, which I LOVE. I have two lives. Two completely separate lives. They completely coincide with both my passports, both my cell phones, I am literally a secret agent living double lives. This, this is what I thought about as radioactive materials were pulsating through my body, all alone. Thinking about my separate lives was my escape.

I went into the scan. It was 35 minutes. My meds were wearing off, I was getting antsy. Was I ready for this? Ready for these results? At least with out them, I could live in the fantasy that they were going to be ok, but once they come, they're real and then I have to deal with them.

When it was finally over, I jumped at the chance to leave. Apparently I waited in the waiting room with my mom for the disk with the results. No memory. We went to get breakfast, once again, little memory except for the pure joy I felt at inhaling the carbs from the tuna melt and hot chocolate. I came home, I slept... Fast forward to that night...

I woke up in the middle of the night and sorry to be graphic but I had gotten a period. Well $#!%, something that wasn't supposed to happen just did. A symptom, something is wrong. Add this to the previous week of feeling completely ill and I still didn't put together that something was off. I skipped a lunch and a dinner with two friends I hadn't seen in ages, both I had been looking SO forward too, but I couldn't ignore that my body needed sleep. Once again, making excuses that the previous week had caught up with me, I was anxious, nothing was wrong. Thats what I kept telling myself, because I am always positive, in the worst way I guess.

Fast Forward to today: The results.

Phone rings, I answer.

"Hi Courtney, It's Dr. D. I received your results from your PET Scan. Your Lymph nodes are clear and everything looks good. However, there is some uptake in your cervix. This could be residual effects from the radiation. Instead of seeing you in three months however, I think it would be better to see you in a month to be safe."

::CRUSHED::

Good news and bad news all at once. I mean it wasn't bad but it wasn't great. It COULD be residual effects from the radiation but it lit up, it could be cancer. Cancer that isn't visible to the naked eye but showed up on the PET Scan. Back to square one, not knowing. On the bright side, my lymph nodes were clear. At least the f****** chemo worked.

I don't have time to wait this out, my insurance runs out in May. What I had (may still have) was an aggressive form of cancer. If it is still there who knows what will happen in a month.

So we go in tomorrow, we go to ask questions.

My mom went out and got me the new Britney cd because Britney fixes everything. However I'm not even in a Britney mood, because all week, I was thinking about how I was going to pack and surprise everyone back home and now I'm just yet again wondering what new journey my body is taking me on unwillingly.

Someone special to me tonight told me

"Energy Flows Where Attention Goes"

So... I'm giving myself tonight to be pissed off and upset. Because tomorrow Positive Energy is going to flow to where my Attention must go!

Will I be ok, yes. Am I pissed off yes. Did I want a conclusive answer, yes. I have a Skylar Grey Song on repeat.... because right now its a metaphor for what I'm feeling. (Actually her whole album is speaking to me right now). Come tomorrow- it's Britney Time.

-Back From The Dead

"I worked so hard to put the past to rest,
now its tumbling down on me, just like an avalanche...
So you can't just come back now, like a demon uninvited.
You can't just Expect me, to open my door to you because....

I never thought that you and I would ever meet again,
I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace with in.
The word "distraught" cannot describe how my heart has been,
but where do we begin now that you're back from the dead."

Surprise! Very Last Chemo... Hopefully EVER!

Chemo Surprise!

So today was a great day for surprises. I came to the hospital as usual for radiation and chemo and went through the motions like I usually would. When I went to meet Dr. D, they had quite the surprise for me, Today was my last day for chemo. Granted before I get super excited this IS contingent upon a few things. So. I have radiation for a few more weeks. Then I have surgery on October tenth for the sleeve. (I'll explain later). After that I start high dose radiation which will take two and a half weeks. I'll do a PET scan to see where we're at. If my lymph nodes look good, and I responded to the radiation the way I am supposed too, then I wont need any more chemo.

Because I'm never going to get cancer again (Because I think I've had just about enough with 4 bouts) today could be my very last chemo dose for the rest of my life. Never again will I have to inject my self with toxic chemicals. Worry about my liver, or my hair, or kidneys or any of the pain in the ass side effects. Never, Like EVER again! This is a really exciting encouraging thought.

While meeting with the nurse in Dr. D's office as she was telling me this I was ecstatic.

"OMG, so I'm officially done chemo after today, all my pooter hair has fallen out from the chemo and the radiation, so I'll be done chemo and I got a pain free bikini wax."

My mom shook her head, ::palm to forehead:: giggling while the Nurse AM replied

"Nothing Courtney says shocks me anymore."

Hahah best response ever. I love that my nurses and my docs know me well.

We went into Dr. D's office to talk about the surgery and whats to come. Basically they insert a plastic sleeve or shunt into my lady bits. Its so that when they place the high dose radiation into my pooter- it affects only the necessary cancer and not the surrounding healthy tissue.

"Ok doc, so this isn't going to break my pootang right? I mean when am I supposed to start the vaginal dilators."

My mom once again ::palm to forehead::

"Mom... I'm just trying to protect my investment."

The answer by the way was when I'm done the high dose radiation, and no it should not break my pootang.

SO my day consisted of my docs writing me for more pain meds.

"You need to stop being a hero and take the meds."

Option b, instead of taking the pain meds would be to take a break from radiation but I just want to be done with ALL of this. SO I was like ok, write em up. I can and will endure the pain, because as experienced today, there is no better feeling than hearing you're done. I can imagine how great hearing you're cured is going to be. How great "You can have sex again" is going to be. How unreal amazing "You can go back to Canada" will be. Oh and "Yes you can start working a few shifts again" ALL of these amazing things I can't wait to hear. They began today with "TOday is your last chemo treatment."

As I laid receiving my last chemo treatment it was weird. I mean, I wish I had have had a heads up. I would have brought cake. Lots of Carrot Cake. I LOVE the nurses on my chemo unit. Two of my favs weren't even there to say good bye. Luckily S and B were. B always hooks me up so that I can have a private room and bed for chemo treatments because they were 3+ hours long and I felt crappy. So sitting in a plastic wanna be lazy boy chair sucked in comparison to a bed, even a hospital one. Plus my mum got a desk to get some work and school work done. S slipped me a little going away present, which was the sweetest. She got me GORGEOUS silver earrings. Something I can get excited about wearing when I actually feel well enough to leave my house. I'm really going to miss them.

As I was leaving the unit, I looked at the empty chemo bag and it was the best F YOu ever! I got to ring the bell at the desk! Its a Lankenau tradition and I absolutely can't wait to ring my radiation bell, after my last radiation treatment! In fact its going to sound like a damn marching band is going through. The other patients better turn their hearing aids down.

SO I feel like crappola. The last dose of chemo is really taking its toll. However, at least I'm feeling like crap with a smile on my face. E, my pseudo older sister was in Canada and brought me back Quaker Crispy Minis in Dill Pickle, Salt and Vinegar and Ketchup. I'm like the happiest kid alive. You can't get them in the states and they're my guilty pleasure. So I'm munching on those whenever I have to take pain meds. You can't take the pain meds on an empty tummy.

I'm so close... yet so far!!


BOOM- Baby steps on the train of stops with amazing things to hear. One stop at a time.

Here we go! KOO KOO KAA CHOOOOO CHOOOO

Lymph Node Biopsy, with drugs and pickles :)

As I rolled over in my bed, my back instantly had a shooting pain like Zeus shooting a lightening bolt. I woke up instantly from the pain. 5:55am. Great. I still have 35 minutes until I have to be awake. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like gum sticks to your shoe. I was so parched. I knew I was allowed one sip of water to take my meds, so I decided to use it wisely. I got a perc and my other two morning meds and savored that one single sip like it was going to be my last. Frustrated because it was not even remotely enough, I knew that being in a little discomfort now, would override vomiting my brains out later, so I let it go.

I crawled back into bed and grabbed my phone. Figured I could find something to kill time with on there. Solitaire, Yahtzee, Euchre, OOH a text from crush.

"Good Luck Today :**:".

Those are the kinds of things that make waking up on a day like this a whole lot nicer. It was the perfect start to my day!

My mum walked in to see if I was awake and was shocked that I was.

"What are you doing up?"

I told her about my back and how I was a little anxious about what was ahead. She told me to get ready to go and I was like fine. I threw on my VS cropped sweats, a lulu top and my Lady Gaga zip up hoodie. I was like there's no point in a bra because I'll have to take it off anyway. Tuxx was snuggled on my bed, and I so would have rather just crawled under my *new* covers and hid with him. But, it was go time. I grabbed my book and purse and normally a water bottle, but was forced to continue being parched... so I walked. It was like walking the plank on a pirate ship... those slow dragging your feet steps, to your demise.

We got in the car and were off. It was one of those, I just want to talk about boys kind of days. So I did and it was great, because the car ride flew by. J, my mum's partner in crime, who came with us had some great guy advice.

"I would go with *, he seems like a genuinely good guy."

We went over the pros and cons and it was actually really fun to discuss it with someone who wasn't a chick.

"It's not even really like it matters right now, I'm currently not exactly in the dating pool."

In fact if I were to fully jump in, I'd probably drown. Of course when I was healthy, the pool was empty, but now that I'm sick again, its just been cleaned, refilled, the ph is perfect and its sunny with a chance of hotties, lots of them.

As we were driving to the hospital we got a call around 7:44am. (We had left the house at 7, and it takes about an hour to get there.) It was the booking lady from Interventional Radiology. (My moms phone goes through the blue tooth in her car so we could all hear.)

"Hi, this is L from I.R., we were just wondering where you were because Courtney is supposed to be on the table at 8 and you were supposed to be here at 7:30"

My mom extremely agitated said,

"I thought so, but we got a call last night after 6pm from K and she said that it had been moved to 8:30 and that we didn't need to be there until 8."

The lady got a little more agitated and was like

"Well we don't have a K in our department so I don't know who called you. We gave you your paperwork and it said 7:30. How long do you think you'll be?"

We told her we were getting there as fast as we could. Never a dull moment with us. My mum being in the medical field was exceptionally frustrated because we were just doing what we were told. How were we supposed to know that this rando person was calling us with misinformation, even after my mom questioned it to her. Later in pre op, the nurses told us not to worry because this isn't the first time this has happened so I felt a lot better. The rest of the car ride however, we boogied.

I got a little antsy by this call. Now I was just thinking to myself

"Great, they're going to be rushed and mess something up."

As if I wasn't already nervous. We took a new route which we loved, Thank you Dr. D2. When we got there my mum had me jump out and run to admissions to register. She and J valeted the car. I went in and explained the situation and was like

"LOOK, I'm kinda in a rush because there was a miscommunication, so I know you need me to sign the sheet, wait my turn and stuff, but they need me up there now."

She looked at me, with absolutely no expression in her face (obviously one of those people who LOVED their job) and said

"Sign the sheet, we'll call you when its your turn."

So I did. My mum came in and I explained. I had gotten even antsier after about 4 minutes of waiting, so I said

"I'm just going to go upstairs to the unit, you wait, and I'll let them know I'm here but that they're taking their sweet @$$ time down here."

It was go time. On my way out, there was this huge piano, I wanted to go belt out a round of heart and soul so badly, but the sign said I wasn't allowed. It was a good thing I was running late or anything could have happened.

I got to the floor and the girls were SO nice. It was different then the outpatient surgery unit I had been on for my EUA. I had my own private room, with a tv and a closet. It was nice that my mum could wait there instead of a generic waiting room with infomercials. I was fascinated that they left a love note on the toilet.

"Sanitized for your protection."

I was like well thank you for thinking of my tush!

My mum and J left admissions because they were still taking too long. I got undressed into the sexiest that hospital wear has to offer. After they put in my iv, I had a mini photo shoot. When I get nervous, I do whatever I can to take my mind off of it. Be funny, or at least try, talk, dance sing whatever.

The nurses went over a bunch of questions with me, since they had to register me. While they did that, I braided my hair to get it out of the way. I was getting antsy again.

We were almost ready to head to Interventional Radiology. They told me I had to pee first. All I wanted was ice chips of some sort. My mouth felt like I had eaten a spoonful of flower. It was rollin time.

We got into the IR pre op area. It was nice. I met my new nurse S and the first thing I noticed was her pocket on her scrubs. It was full of syringes which I knew were full of happy medicine. I was ready and excited. At least if I was going to be scared $#!%less we could get the happy drugs flowing. Her and my mum started talking about the IV I already had. Apparently it was only a 22, and because I was going to be receiving contrast (The dye to make everything visible in the catscan) I needed at least a 20. (The smaller the number, the bigger the needle 20>22). I was most likely going to need another IV and I was not excited about that. S, however had already gotten on my mom's good side. My mum being a former nurse can tell when someone knows their $#!%. I later found out during my procedure (because yes I was akwake) that S, had a shit szu. I should have known, no wonder she and my mom were instantly on the same page.

The doctor came in and introduced himself He seemed really relaxed and like he totally knew his stuff. He went on to describe the procedure to which I stopped him.

"I'm sorry I really would rather not know what you're doing."

I put my hands over my ears and started humming like a 5 year old. I knew If I knew what was going on, I would break down into a ball of nerves. He left and the nurses continued to prep me.

After I was almost finished prepping it was time to take me to the Cat Scan procedure room. I would have to say good bye to my mum at the door. The team got me rolling and I met the other two nurses. I felt so comfortable with all three. I knew this wasn't going to be as bad as I thought but I was still nervous. As we were rolling I said

"Who has two thumbs and needs drugs- THIS GIRL!"

When we got into the procedure room the first things I saw were the cat scanner and the table. They asked if I could walk and I was like totally. I laid down and that was when it hit me. This was happening. I started shaking, and they thought I was just cold, and I might have been, but I was nervous as hell. They put warm blankets on me and started prepping me to get me into position. If they were pushing the Versaid, I didn't feel it. I felt nothing. Tears started to stream, and S knelt down beside me and started talking me through it.

"Its ok Court, you're doing absolutely great"

I kept apologizing for shaking but I couldn't help it.

"Stop apologizing, you're doing great. Just try and breathe, relax and let the drugs work."

I kept trying to breathe. I even thought for a few minutes to try my ujjayi breathing technique. Its a yoga breathing technique to generate heat and energy for flow yoga classes. I don't know how well that worked and I probably looked crazy. The nurses and doctor had to leave the room a few times for me to go into the cat scan machine. They put the second IV in and luckily the meds worked in the sense that I didn't feel it. The tears would always flow even faster during the cat scan parts because I think I felt the most alone and exposed. They came back out and placed a sticker of sorts on my tummy. It felt like a graph. C, one of the cat scan techs injected the dye and then I went back into be scanned.

After I had been scanned for what felt like the third time, the nurses came in and the doc started smearing something all over my tummy. OH great. So that part that I didn't want to hear about in pre op was about to happen. Then he said

"Tiny pinches"

. Tears were now pulsating down my cheek as if they were in a race to see who could fall the fastest. Dr. B poked me with lidocaine needles which hurt more then you would expect. "Ugh more scars for my tummy" was all I was thinking. As Dr. B was poking, S was simultaneously shooting me up with more drugs. One of the nurses was stroking my head to try and calm me down and another was holding my hand. I knew something intense must have been coming. Everything was a little blurry at this point but I remember the tears. There were so many which is why is was blurry. It was as if it was pouring rain and the windshield washers just could not keep up fast enough. I felt an odd sensation in my tummy. I could see the cold bright lights. I could hear the nurses. S,

"Breathe Court, let the meds work, you're doing awesome. We're almost done."

They sent me in to the scan again, and then Dr. B came to talk to me. He pulled out what must have been the biopsy tube and it felt like pulling a huge sliver out. I could feel the wiggly cord as it came slithering out.

"I'm very sorry Courtney, but we're not going to be able to complete the procedure. I'm not out to prove anything today and its just not safe to continue. We've been in here for about 2 hours and I don't want to risk it."

TWO HOURS? It had felt like twenty minutes. I was devastated that it had all been for nothing. This meant more radiation.

I think because I was finally able to relax, or so I thought, knowing that it was over and there would be no more pain, I blacked out for a little bit. I woke up in the IR recovery room and was given some Ativan. Although I was no longer scared I was upset. I wanted my mom. She had apparently gone on a coffee run and there was a miscommunication about whether we would go to her, or she to us. I was given gingerale, or shasta. haha I don't even know, and my favorite peanut butter crackers. While I waited, S showed me pics of her shit szu, Lady. She was a little muffin. All of the nurses were ordering food, and it made me realize how hungry I really was. I started to get a little emotional because the time was really ticking by. My mum wasn't coming to us, and I knew it. Not because she didn't want too, because I knew that if she knew I wanted her there... she would have come barreling in, but because someone didn't relay to her that I was ready. S could see the despair in my eyes as the tears started welling up again. She told them,

"I'm taking Court upstairs, you guys can wait for me to order food."

She took me up and bumped the bed into the wall.

"See, I'm terrible with these things, its like bumper beds when I drive."

For a moment a smile broke through the tears and I was feeling relieved.

We got to my room and I saw my mum and it was the moment I let go. I could finally relax and actually let the drugs work. I begged the nurses to let me take my IV out. I hated letting them do it, because well, I had done it enough times and it didn't hurt when I did it to myself. I started to remove the tapes and the little nurse got nervous.

I couldn't wait to get out.

"How much longer do we have to be here? I want to go home. They said we could go at 11:30."

My mum told me the nurse said 12:30 departure time but I wasn't having it. I told my mum, how they didn't give me enough drugs, because I was told I wasn't supposed to remember anything... I remembered everything. I was given one more xanax at this point because I couldn't calm down. I was flustered and upset. I was having another panic attack. I was feeling claustrophobic and just needed to leave. The tears would come and go, and it was getting exhausting. We still had to go see Dr. D for our chemo consult.

We finally got to leave. I up and changed and was ready for Dr. D. I could finally feel myself relaxing. Everyone kept trying to put me in a wheelchair but I was on a mission, I just needed to leave and knew I could do it a lot faster on my own. I knew exactly where to go to get to Dr.D's office, even drugged. We got there and a TIME magazine was sitting right on top of the magazine pile. It said "The Childfree Life: When having it all means not having children." I was like, "well isn't this ironic." We snagged the mag, because I wanted to know who was writing a story on me, or just the fact I was too high to understand what I would be reading.

We saw Dr. D and he went over our chemo and radiation schedule. Tuesday of next week. I HAD to do chemo. These were the words I was dreading.

"Am I going to lose my hair?"

It was the one question I didn't want to have to ask. He said

"Its not likely but it is a side effect, maybe just some thinning."

I was too stoned on xanax to cry. A panic attack was trying to creep in, but the drugs were all finally taking effect. They couldn't have started working at a better time. Finally.

We left and went to valet to get the car. It was Tuesday. The only good thing about Tuesdays is Cream of chicken and wild rice soup at Paneras. I don't remember the car ride back but we stopped. When we got to the house I started inhaling pickles. I was stoned out of my mind, but I was home. I was with Dexter, I didn't feel the pain from the incisions and I LOVED my food. Lets just say there were a lot more pics hahaha, but I narrowed it down.

After I finished eating, my salad, my soup, my pickles, I went and crashed. I finally slept, a good sleep. I needed to recover. My mind was hazy from the meds and so I didn't have to worry about thinking about the reality of chemo or radiation or anything else miserable. I was content. I slept and am glad it was all over. Even though- it was really just the beginning.