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

I Can Feel It In My Bones

So Tuesday was a sucky day for me. I got some much needed sleep and then my mum and I got up super early to go and get my bone scan. I was freaking out, internally. I know of someone who is battling extremely rare cancer, undeservedly, and her spine broke from a tumor. This scares the crap out of me. My back is in excruciating pain, legit feels like a body builder has plopped his tush on there 24/7. So I was relieved to be getting the scan, nervous about the results.

We had to drive to Cooper Hospital in Camden. It's always an experience driving to Camden, I mean it has been rated the murder capitol of the USA how many times? Its weird though because the hospital is absolutely beautiful. We walked in and got our passes and headed to the unit. Before I can do the scan, I have to get injected with radioactive dye. It takes about two hours to absorb into my bones before we can do the scan.

We went to unit, met the nurse who was an absolute muffin. She was so nice. She shot me up with the dye and we were on our way. I had to drink as many fluids as I could to get it to move through my body so my mum and I headed to the cafe. I got the most amazing discovery in life, frozen hot chocolate. I legit have no words because heaven descended upon my lips the second I tasted it. I also got a gingerale and grapefruit juice.

As we were standing in the line of docs and nurses, a doc walked to the end of the line and I had to do a double take. He was stunningly gorgeous. He was tall with dark hair and these deep grey eyes. He was muscular but not like a bodybuilder but he wasn't so lean that he was too skinny. His navy blue scrubs hung just right and his jaw was just hot! I tried not to stare especially since I had rolled out of bed and thrown on lulu cropped leggings and my matchbox tee. As we were walking out, and I was continuing to try and not stare I realized OMG I recognized him. I assumed it was from one of my treatments but as we were out of the cafe it hit me.

"WE MET ON MATCH LAST YEAR AND HAD A DATE THAT I BAILED ON!"

Holy crap, he was way hotter in person. I bailed, because I knew I was moving back to Canada in a month and it wasn't worth it. I'm just going to bask in the moment because hot doc was even interested in me. I could have had my own McDreamy or McSteamy... ::Sighh::

So we went to the lobby were I proceeded to chug my drinks. We had two hours to kill. I blogged for a bit, this new wifi in hospitals thing is life changing! After I pounded my drinks faster than an underage frat boy, I laid on moms lap. I looked up at the art work on the walls and it was intriguing. There was a man and a woman. Clearly they had donated a crap load of money, but you would think with all that money, they could have paid for some upgrades in their portraits.

The man looked angry, manipulative and like he thrived on power. The woman looked sweet and tired, from dealing with this man. His background was harsh and black, and elicited a superior tone. Her's looked like a hallway. This erked the gender studies major in me.

Eventually I got bored of the artwork and fell asleep on mums lap. She woke me up and it was time for the scan. We headed back down and were ushered in. I don't know if it was the radioactive material, but I was so exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open.

The machine was big and white and loud and circular. My mum got to stay in the room with me which was nice, hence all the lovely pics. I laid down and the scan started. I couldn't see much because I was encapsulated in the machine but I was too tired to care. Plus I wasn't allowed to move.

I woke up about half way through and heard a voice. Dr. W had received my PET scan and could better diagnose me. He came to deliver the results to my mum. They were right on par with Dr. D. and this made me feel a lot better. To be honest, I think there was more that was said but I blanked.

I finished the scan and was allowed to go home. My mum got the car,(Hospitals have valet now, LOVE IT) and we went home. I went right to bed and was out cold. For the rest of the day.

Here's the good news. Bone Scan came back clean! I'll take my small victories where I can get them! :)

I was excited for the next few days. I was going to get to reunite with my mum's ex's daughters. They were like little sisters to me... except all grown up. I also had friends at the Havelock Jamboree, which was fun because they were sending me pics and vids. I've never been and totally would love to have gone, so it was nice to feel included. I had a few days left until my surgery, to just relax and I was damn well going to do just that.

$#!% just got real (Part One)

So yesterday (Tuesday) started out as a typical, hilarious morning.

We woke up at 6, well "woke up" isn't exactly the right word, I hadn't been to bed the night before. I needed a nap on Monday and slept till about 7. "Well what do you do up all night"- you ask? Good question. I read, I blog, I enjoy the peace and quiet and if I'm really lucky, I skype ;)

So, I got up, actually put on what Natalie described as my "socialite" outfit, complete with a long green and white maxi skirt, white lulu tank (because anyone who knows me, knows I live, legit LIVE in lulu lemon), white cardigan and my pride and joy Kitson scarf from LA. We hit Duncan Donuts (I miss Tim Hortons so bad its not even funny) and then we were on our way. Thinking back on my outfit, I said to my mum:

"I always wear white when it rains, like always and not on purpose! Its almost as if Mother Nature is telling me to be in a wet T-shirt contest."

It was going to be one of those days....

We left an hour early just to be safe with rush hour traffic (even though it really only should have taken us about 30-45min.) We got about 15 minutes out and then the heavens opened from above and cried their eyes out. It was a torrential freaking downpour. I'm not talking about a little rain, I'm not even talking about a lot of rain, I'm talking about so much damn rain that you could have gone swimming on the high way. The traffic was INSANE. What should have been a quick trip to Lankenau Hospital in Philly turned into a two hour adventure. I could have gotten to Scranton PA in two hours under normal circumstances. The puddles were so large on the highway, we were worried our car wouldn't get through them. Some of the cars next to us almost didn't. The radio and news stations were forbidding people from driving through the puddles because cars were getting swept away and causing accidents. They were shutting down highways left and center but we were on a mission to get to my docs, and although it took us two hours, we damn well got there, and had some fun in the car too!

Mom mom was on a roll. I now know where I get this whole thinking I'm hilarious thing from because she thinks shes hilarious too. The actual difference, is she actually is. Thank goodness too, because in these stressful times, its nice to laugh. Laughter is the best medicine after all. Some of her zingers... I can't even remember the complete context behind them (damn you chemo brain.)

"Well this is new, taking an arc to get to the hospital, should have worn my water wings."

She'll kill me for this next one but it was so funny, I almost peed. I feel like a lot of the things I think are hysterical are those "You have to be there to get the full effect kind of stuff". So she says...

"So all I'm thinking about right now is 2 girls and a cup."

...Oh no where was this going?

"Ummm mom, do I even want to know?"

I was getting a little nervous.

"Well I have to poop! Theres a cup, and we're two girls. Courtney, I NEED to have an evacuation."

HAHAHAHA

"Mom that is wrong on so many levels, and have you even seen that video, I haven't and don't want too, let alone recreate it."

I love how open our family is. When it comes to poop, well I am asked every day by doctors about my BM's (Bowl Movements.) Its something you get used too, REAL fast!

So our family, super open, about everything. I mean I had a friend text me yesterday and ask about my previous blog post,

"Do you let your dad read your Rated R blogs?"

I was like Absolutely. My dad wasn't born yesterday, he knows I'm going to have sex. I am a 25 year old girl, there is nothing wrong with it. There was recently an article written by a father entitled:

"Dad Writes Open Letter To His Daughter: I Hope You Have Awesome Sex."

I think this is one of the most excellent reads I have read in a long time. Now don't get me wrong, I love scaring the $#!% out of new boyfriends by having an intimidating father, but deep down, he's a huge teddy bear.

(Note to future suitors: Mess with me and he will beat you with a hockey stick and he has a mean slap shot! Don't give him a reason too, and you'll actually have a new best friend!)

The point is, as clearly evidenced by my blog, I don't have a filter, but I don't want to have too with my family. Especially my family. I have always really appreciated the fact that I can go to my mom or dad with anything. Obviously some things I prefer talking to my mother about, but I know if I didn't have her, I could talk to my dad too. Boyfriends have asked me in the past

"You didn't tell your parents about this/that did you?"

My response is always,

"Assume they know."

Odds are they will, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So back to our trip to the hospital, I guess I kinda tend to do the whole running off on tangents thing, oh well. We finally arrived, and our agenda for the day included a consultation with an interventional radiologist, and to meet my Radiation doctor. Then a second opinion with an Ob/GYN Oncologist at Cooper Hospital, in Voorhees which is right next to my house, so would be super convenient.

We went to the I.R. apt first, we were so late from the tsunami that they switched our appointments around. I love how accommodating and friendly Lankenau is. As we're sitting in the waiting my room, my mum was like, you should probably get your insurance card and license ready. I looked down into my bag, and then back up to my mum like a child does when they've been caught coloring on the walls, she looked at me and said:

"Whats wrong?"

To which I stammered:

"Um so I left my other wallet, the important one with the important stuff at home because it was the wristlet I used for the concert and this is my Canadian wallet, but I have toonies!"

My mum laughed and was like

"well, do you have any photo id?"

My purse was jammed fuller than a hot dog eating contest winner in booty shorts, I had to have something. I started riffling through my wallet and started naming things I had. I sounded like that Sunny D commercial, you know the one that's like

"'Hey man what do you have?' 'Well we've got some oj, some purple stuff, OH YES SUNNY D!"

But I digress, my list went a little more like

"Ummm so I've got my Mac Pro Make Up artist license, no photo, my bartending certification, no photo, OH my boaters license!"

To which my mom responded,

"Well that would have come in handy this morning driving the arc? I feel a lot better knowing you have that when we go back out there."

I don't know why but I was dying laughing. She was on a roll today. Eventually I found my Queen's U student id.

"Eh, this will do."

Long story short, they believed it was me and we got in. I make it sound like Lankenau is this hot new club and I'm underage, it's not.

We got into the consultation room which was really boring. Something about it bugged me. I just didn't like the feeling I got from it. I'm very OCD and little things bug me, but the doc's had pics of themselves framed on the walls in articles. It was different though, the Cooper docs, have their

"SJ's BEST Doc ::insert field here:: of ::insert year here::"

, but those are accomplishments. These just seemed staged. There was an empty brochure holder on the wall with the Staples: Office Depot sticker on it. My OCD was raging over this and it took everything in my body to not take the sticker off. I instead opted for putting a random brochure in it, one which ironically enough was from my mom's company's competitor, we don't like them. The Physicians Assistant came in to talk to us and let us know the doc wouldn't be joining us. This was weird, this man is supposed to be performing a surgical procedure on me and I wasn't going to meet him until the day of, this erked me. She explained that the point of the procedure was to biopsy the lymph nodes that appeared cancerous on my PET scan, however this was extremely difficult and dangerous because of their location. The original surgeon who was supposed to do the surgery turned it down, because he didn't think he would be successful. Dr.B who is also the chief of the I.R. dept, said he thought he could.

"So he's basically like the Mc.Dreamy of you all, not in his looks but the fact that he can do the impossible."

Great, something about this just did not excite me. We booked our appointment and left for our next, but I'm just so over surgery. Especially knowing that I'm only receiving sedation and not full anesthesia.

We then headed to the radiation/chemo dept. where I would be receiving my radiation. We went to the waiting room and once again: visual overload. There was a horse. Yes a horse, no I was not on meds. It was a full size paper mache, painted white and pink with breast cancer ribbons, quotes and rhinestones all over it. I had the sudden urge to climb it and ride it, it was beckoning to me. We sat down, and there was a pen on one of the chairs across from me. One lonely pen, sitting all by itself. A. my OCD was being driven insane but B. it was a metaphor for the people that have to come to these appointments alone. It made me really sad, and so appreciative that my mum was there, poop jokes and all. The paintings were driving me nuts too. I know that they are usually donated to these units but come on, lets pick a theme people. There was a cottagy one with flowers, another that looked like an Italian scene and then a wannabe Monet. It was visual overload, including the horse.

I had to fill out some paper work while waiting. I probably get asked the same questions, by every doctor, nurse, P.A., Nurse Practitioner, and tech, 1000 times a week. So I've managed to simplify some of my answers.

"Why are you here?"

Well....

"To fix my $#!%."

If I'm feeling a little classier I'll respond with

"To fix my pooter."

Considering its very rare for someone my age to be dealing with this, like VERY rare, they usually don't know how to handle me, and by me I mean my personality. I love it when they just laugh. So, this was a step up for me, responding so honestly on paperwork. Question:

"What do you expect radiation/chemotherapy to do for you?"

.... Hmmmmm well

"Cure my $#!%."

Obviously, thats kind of a dumb question. Next Question:

"Is there anything else you would like to say?"

This was a new one, but the amount of things I would like to say are endless.... so I just put the link to my blog.

My mum was reading the biography on the doc while I was filling out the paperwork.

"OOOh he's an Eagles Fan, A seasons ticket holder."

Well at least we like the same football team.

"Note to self mom, we're not coming in on Mondays."

She laughed and then said,

"Oh how nice, he coaches his son and daughter's sotfball teams."

I started laughing and responded with

"I'll be he doesn't get thrown out of them for throwing softballs at the ref."

::Backstory:: My mum coached my softball team in kindergarten when we lived in LA. She was slightly competitive so during one of our championship games, she might have gotten a little heated over a bad call. She got so mad she threw a softball at the ref and was thrown out of the game. Luckily my soccer coach at the time was there and she took over, but I'll never forget it.

It was the exact moment I knew I had the BEST mom of all time. I mean she would go to war over anything for me, and that was exactly what I needed right now.


We met the doc (Dr. D2 as I'll call him because my OB/GYN oncologist is Dr.D)

"How fitting, You have the double D's treating you."

haha my mum really was on a roll today. Dr.D2 explained a lot of what I already knew. He talked about vaginal dilators and told me I had an 80% chance of being able to have sex again after this. I was like

"WOAH DOC, hold up. A. a vaginal dilator is a fancy name for a vibrator right? and B. 80%, what about the other 20%."

This was when my day started to go down hill. We talked some more and I wasn't feeling as funny and vibrant. When I'm upset I get quiet. I don't want to cry, I don't want to yell, and I sure as hell don't want to talk. I want to retreat into my blonde safety net and hide.

I went to do my scan and met two of the "therapists" as they call themselves. They were super sweet. I really did like the staff in this department. My mom instantly favored D, one of the RN's because A. she had great lips and B. was shit szu obsessed. I went in for the scan and the girls explained how I was going to be getting tattoos. I was like

"I'm sorry WHAT?, Today? Are you sure?"

I really should have taken a xanax. The tats were so that when they did the scan, they could line it up exactly the same way each time. I once had a really good guy friend tell me,

"Don't get a tattoo, the fact that you don't have any is what makes you different and I really like that about you, its sexy and pure."

Every time I've almost caved and gotten one, that comment has stuck in my head. So I finished the scan and it was tat time. They are three dots, which actually look like nothing more than a freckle. One on each of my hips and one on my gunt. (No thats not a typo, its my gut above my C***, the female version of a gut). They placed the ink on my skin and then pricked it with a needle, not even a tattoo gun. Isn't this just dandy, my first tattoo, and its done like a jailhouse inmate, in the most un bad@$$ of places, a doctors office. How me.

When we finished we were off. I was starving and really nauseous. We headed back into Jersey and luckily had no traffic. We went to Panera's, because Tuesdays are my fav day for their cream of chicken and wild rice soup with greek salad. It was so yum. We then went to target to kill some time before we headed to our next apt. I knew if I went home before the next appointment, I would be out cold. I was getting exhausted, mentally. If you had have asked me at this point in the day I would have said, its been great. Little did I know what was about to come....

I guess now that I have a tattoo, I might as well get the one I want. .... here it is.

E.U.A.> Examination Under Anesthesia.

Thursday August 8th, Surgery day.

N.P.O. > Since 12:30 am the previous night. (NPO= Nothing By Mouth- No food, No water)

I woke at 8:30am. My mum had removed the water bottle and glass of water from my bed the night before, so when I reached for them, my hands swung and missed. Just air. Great. I was parched, and I knew what was coming. My back was aching like no other. It was as if a million daggers had been thrust into it. I guess jumping and dancing all night did wonders for my poor spine. I told my mum and she said I should take a perc, so I did. I threw on a sports bra with no metal, Hot pink. Perfect. I also grabbed pink panties. Having worked at Victoria's Secret, my bra and panties always match, always. I threw on sweats and my new Maroon 5 tee and we were out the door.

We went to pick up my dad and as he crawled in the car, I could feel my stomach starting to ache. The first omen of an awful day. There is a reason it says on the perc bottle "DO NOT TAKE ON AN EMPTY STOMACH". My mum profusely apologized for forgetting this fact but I would rather feel nauseous then pain. We got to the hospital with no traffic. We pulled up and had the car valeted, totally felt like I was in LA. We got to the Day Surgery floor and they instructed me to head to a room and my parents to head to the waiting room. I instantly felt a sense of unease.

"Umm no, they're coming with me."

The nurse told me they could come in once I was ready, to which my mum jumped in

"No I'm going with her. This has never been an issue before especially at CHOP, and she has newly diagnosed cancer, so at least one of us is going."

My dad went to the waiting room and my mum came with me. I was glad I at least got my mum but I hated excluding my dad. We went in and I got to change into a sexy purple bear paws hospital gown and green socks (really people? green and purple, does no body think about color coordinating this stuff?) My mom insisted on compression boots. Personally I hate them, but I have a a severe history of blood clots (My lungs, all the major arteries, basically places that could kill you.) The compressions from the boots help your body circulate your blood while you're under anesthesia, and look super rad ::sarcastic face:: while doing so. I was dressed and ready to go, almost.

The nurse came in and went over all her questions. Name and birth date, when was the last time you ate anything, drank anything? etc. etc. What are you getting done today? Which of course I replied

"I'm getting my shit checked out."

haha Still doesn't get old. My new fav:

"Do you have any piercings, that are not seen by the eye?"

To which I replied,

"Well, not anymore.... and yes I took my belly button ring out."

At this point I was kind of glad my dad wasn't there, but nothing surprises him anymore... I don't think. However I was still upset at this point that he wasn't allowed in. So I went out to the nurses station and asked them why. I said:

"There is plenty of room in the room, and he wont get in the way. I understand you need to ask me questions but he's not a four year old. If he's going to be allowed to come in and see me before I go in, why in the hell can't he come in now."

The whole time I was saying this, the head nurse kept interjecting trying to come up with excuses. I wasn't having it. Dr. D's physicians assistant saw what was happening and how upset I was. She came in to my room, and said she would try and take care of it.

It was time to get my I.V. and the nurse was HILARIOUS. She was humming the "MaNuhMaNuh MaNuhMaNuh" song from Seasame street. She got my left arm prepped for the IV. I could tell immediately when she chose the vein it wasn't going to work. After years of IV's and needles and injections, my veins are screwed. I also know which ones work and which ones don't. My mum having done IV's for years told me to never tell the nurse which to chose because if they get nervous they're more likely to miss. So I let it go, and she missed. I told her as soon as I didn't see the blood return, to just take it out and start again. I would rather be re-stuck then have them dig around for the vein. She ventured over to my right arm, which sucks because I'm right handed but at least she got it. She explained that

"the MaNuhMaNuh song was originally from a Swedish porno and Seasame Street took it from them."

hahah Wow, thanks for that.

Finally my dad came in. It was about damn time. The nurses had me sign my consents. Obviously I consented, I was there wasn't I. The anesthesia doc came in and looked like she was 20. She was super cute and super nice. All I cared about was that she had versaid in her pocket. Think laughing gas at the dentist but in liquid IV form. I once woke up in the middle of a Spinal Tap and Bone Marrow Aspiration at Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto when I was 16. I have had a extreme fear of waking up in the middle of procedures since, and therefore get panic attacks before any surgery. Versaid calms me down, and helps alleviate those attacks. The nurses made me take off my sports bra, great puppies unrestrained. I also had to take off my panties and put on these sexy mesh things. So. Hot. -_-

I was pretty much ready to go. Now was just the waiting game. The anesthesia nurse came in with a scowl on her face. The original nurse was still talking to me, but the anesthesia nurse just walked in. She started putting my hair net, hat thingy on. She started adjusting the rails, and said something, to which I don't even remember. I do remember how I felt though, uncomfortable. Something about her scared me. My mom instantly caught the vibe and piped up

"Excuse me, how about introducing yourself and a little sensitivity. She's just been rediagnosed with cancer and is about to go into surgery."

I was so proud of my mom. I love how she stands up for me and I totally agreed with her. The anesthesia nurse piped right back

"I'm sorry is there a problem."

I wanted to yell right back her, YES! There is, but I was thinking, crap this woman will determine the state of my comfort level while under anesthesia. I better not piss her off. I stayed silent while wanting to just envelope my mum in a hug and thank her. We went to the bathroom before the surgery so I could pee, and my mum came in and helped me with my IV. I thanked her and reassured her that she wasn't being a raging B!%@#, but being the best mom ever.

We went back out and in came the versaid. It was time for me to go. This is where it gets hazy for me. I don't even remember being wheeled down the hall into the OR. I do remember the nice nurse from my prep room, leaning over me and telling me to breath. I remember her eyes and how warm they looked in comparison to the cold bright lights of the OR. I remember her holding my hand, tightly. I felt safe, and comfortable as she leaned in close. I could feel the tears streaming down, my face, and the nurse reminding me to breath,

"C'mon Courtney take a big breath in through your nose, just breathe hunny, BIG breaths."

And that was the last thing I remember.

I woke up in the recovery room with a new nurse. She asked me how I was feeling and I managed to stumble out,

"my back, my back hurts and I think I'm going to puke."

She gave me my next favorite cocktail. Dilaudid. I'm allergic to morphine so, they give me another narcotic, dilaudid. Its wonderful. They also gave me zofran for nausea. This went on for a while, I was still foggy and hidden by a curtain. All I wanted was my mom and dad. The nurse brought me gingerale and saltines. The saltines were TERRIBLE. My mouth was so dry, that it was like eating flour. I knew I needed something in my stomach but this was not it. Finally my mum and dad came in. I barely remember but they moved me to another room with one of those lovely green wannabe lazy boy chairs. I put my clothes back on and started to get itchy. I couldn't handle the saltines so they brought me these ritz peanut butter crackers and they were heaven. I think I went through about 15 packages and a boat load of gingerale.

I was hazy from the meds. My back hurt, I was nauseous and to top it all off I just wanted to go home, but something wasn't right. My blood pressure dropped a little bit and I was starting to have an allergic reaction. It wasn't good. They gave me benadryl in pill form and it should have knocked me out. It didn't touch me. They were preparing for admission, to have me stay over night for observation, but I wasn't having it. After about 4 hours of bantering, my mom finally went into supermom nurse mode. They wanted to give me a medication to eliminate the pain meds, so I would go back into pain, but if I was having the allergic reaction to the pain med, would get rid of the reaction. My mum and I both knew, all I needed was IV benadryl and to go home.

My Ob/GYN nurse happened to be in the hospital and she came in to see me. She was the one who diagnosed the cancer from the biopsy and seeing her was like seeing the sun in a never ending rainstorm. I was so happy, although you probably couldn't tell, from my medically induced haze. We chatted and she apologized for me for having to go through this. I just wanted her to know how thankful I was for her, she's been the only consistent doctor I've had through my entire medical history and she has been for a reason. Because I feel safe with her. Feeling safe is rare for me, and when I do, I cling on to that feeling. Its not what people say that you remember, its how they make you feel!

She had to go, and I finally broke down in tears.

"I JUST WANT TO LEAVE!"

They finally caved and I was allowed to go home. I crawled into the back seat of the car, laid my head on my mums lap and my dad drove. I slept. When I got to my house, my sister's friend Jack had made us spaghetti and meatballs. This small gesture was like winning the lottery. A. because I was absolutely starving, but B. because this day had taken its toll on my mum emotionally as well. She didn't have the energy to cook. She just wanted to take care of me. Oh and C. because Jack's cooking is BANGING! I crawled into bed, grabbed sexy dexy and slept. I think I woke up for a water ice break, mint chocolate chip, thank you Natalie, and then passed back out. My allergic reaction had dissipated. Looking back, I'm convinced I was allergic to the hospital settings and just needed to get home and into my bed.

My mum was a rockstar. My dad made me feel comfortable. My doctors are champions and some nurses suck! I wont let those bad eggs take away from the rockstar nurses though, because they really are awesome. I slept and I slept and I slept. I woke up to my mum telling me the best news I could have gotten. My PCR, which is the genetic testing to see if my leukemia is back was negative! That means that I only have to worry about this one kind of cancer and not my leukemia. I will still make it to my five year, leukemia free RE-birthday in October. My dad has left to go back to Canada and I will miss him drastically. I have no concrete results yet from the surgery. So more things to wait on. They're deciding how to deal with my cancerous lymph nodes. To remove or to radiate, that is the question. But all in all, I'm home and in bed with Sexy! All is good!