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.

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...

John Mayer, Jake Owen, Jason Aldean & Jack Daniels: My men this weekend. P1

I woke up and opened my eyes. Not the kind of wake up where you roll over, stare into the sunlight, blink 100 times and adjust to your surroundings. No, the kind where your eyes shoot open, wide open, your hands instantly fly out to your sides and grip the closest thing. I saw deep brown walls, a big mirror on the wall, and windows covered up by dark curtains. My head was pounding.

"Where the HELL was I?"

After a couple minutes of adjusting to the volcano erupting in my head, and my eyes dissecting the room, it hit me.

"What the HELL am I doing in my sisters bed?"

I rolled over, and tried to get up.

"Hmm this is going to be a lot harder than it should be."

I braced my self and pushed my self up with every ounce of energy I could muster. As soon as I was vertical, my volcano turned into the death star blowing up my brain.

"This is not going to be a good day."

I wobbled to the bathroom, gripping every surface I could find on the way to stable myself. I peed, and with my eyes closed and an evil smiling grin thought to myself

"That was one HELL of a night!"

It all started on Friday while laying in bed with my mum. I knew this was going to be my last weekend before treatment and if its anything like it has been in the past, we know that making plans is impossible. Expect the unexpected. SO we wanted to do it up this weekend, and do it up might be an understatement. I had been talking about how I wanted to go to Jason Aldean all week. I missed Boots and Hearts and the Havelock Jamboree (both country festivals in Canada.) I love country. All of it. Back to when I used to Dj and bartend on Tumbleweed Tuesdays at the Ale House Canteen in Kingston ($4 Beer boots anyone?) My first concert was Garth Brooks, and I was seriously young. So my mum looked at me and was like,

"ok lets see if we can get tickets."

I think my mum has a magical touch because not only did we get tickets we got 13th row. The concert was on Saturday and I was so excited I couldn't even handle it. It gets better, John Mayer was also in town. He was playing Friday night and she looked at me as said, wanna go? I was like UH YES! We were doing the double hitter and I was STOKED!

I was supposed to go see JOHN FREAKING MAYER (Friends With Benefits fans anyone?) with a guy friend about 4 years ago. I even told him,

"look R, are you sure you're taking me because if not I'll get my own tickets."

He responded with "No, no its you and me!" Well that didn't happen and I was SOOOO mad at him. Legit pissed, more so bummed I missed the concert, because that was also for my favorite album of his 'Battle Studies". It worked out though, because I was finally getting to go. My concert bucket list was being ticked off one by one this summer. There really isn't that much to do around here in Philly.

Friday night, me, J and my mom. John Mayer, 8th row center, HEAVEN. I raided my sisters closet, got ready and we were off. We got there, did the usual, our 3B routine; bathroom, booze and buy tshirts. We were almost ready to go. We had to grab the crab fries. LOVE THEM. I sat next to this older woman (at least 50s) and realized she was there by herself. It made sense because we had 3 tickets so odds are she bought the single. It was so cute, because she was there just because she loved the music. So much so, she didn't care if anyone else came with her. She was married because she had on a wedding ring too. Personally, I would kick my husbands tush if he made me go alone but I was like

"Damn, I want to have this woman's balls some day."

I'll do movies by myself and go to restaurants, I mean sometimes I don't want to be around people, I just feel like a concert is a whole other level. She rocked out and it was adorable. Philip Phillips opened and he was AMAZING. He did a lil Wayne cover and it was epic. John sounded incredible live. It was madness. He played for two and a half hours and it was just a huge jam sesh. The concert was tailored for his die hard fans. There were a lot of songs I didn't know, and I have all of his cds and listen to them, all the time. I think he played a lot of stuff off his new album which comes out like next week. It was still so good. Talk about talent.

At one point he kind of stopped the show because a girl was holding up a sign that said "Please Play 'Comfortable'". He commented on her sign and was like "It's not on the set list but because its such a beautiful song, lets do it." He whipped it out like it was nothing and the cameras panned to the girl and she was basically crying. It was the cutest thing and I think the highlight of my night. Something about seeing people that happy, just makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

As we were standing there, loving life, I was looking off to the side of the stage to see if Katy Perry was by chance there. I saw a blonde haired guy and was like...

"Hmmm I know that hair"

Then I saw two other guys with him, and grabbed my mums arm,

"OMG MOM, thats Harry Styles and Niall Horan and Liam from One Direction!"

She was like

"Who?"

I was like MOOMMMMM! I had watched them on GMA that morning so I knew they were in the area. After John's last song before his encore, he walked over and gave his guitar to Niall. The lights were out but Niall stood up and waved it to the crowd. It was a John Mayer concert so I doubt there were a lot of directioners there but I have very eclectic taste and I knew exactly who it was and was excited about it ::not ashamed::. My suspicions were later confirmed when the boys tweeted a pic from the concert. I was crushed, I should have tried to get pics. I was also so stoked!

After the concert we went to the Cheesecake Factory. I was pooped but I needed munchies. It was so good as usual. It was just an all around fun evening. Saturday is where things get interesting.

*I don't like bananas plain, but had to eat something in the car on the way there to take a med and a banana was all I could find.

I slept in all day Saturday. My energy levels were already low from the night before and I knew tonight was going to be UNREAL! My mum woke me up and I got ready as quick as I could. We had to head into Philly to pick up our tickets. Now according to my mum there was some drama, but I'll get to that later. I put in my biggest and best country curls and was going to wear my favorite white sundress but I had forgotten my cowboy boots in Canada and something about it just felt wrong if I wore flip flops. This is now the SECOND case of underpacked, cough cough "DAD" cough cough. So I went with Jeans, a black tank and my cowboy hat. My mum and I ended up being kinda twins, it was cute.

We grabbed food for our tailgate and some beer and were on our way. We picked up the tickets, and because of the miscommunication, we ended up getting two extras. We didn't notice till we were in the car. We figured we could pawn them, or worst/fun case pay it forward. We had VIP parking which was sweet too. We got to the lot, set up shop and were ready to go. I told my mum not to underestimate country fans, we're loyal as hell. People had been there drinking all day. Apparently, (and we found this out after the show), there were something like 4,000 people who stayed in the parking lots after the concert started to just party and listen to the music. Thats pretty damn cool!

Some people had these little tents, which looked weird. When we got a closer look we realized people had brought their own porta potties. ::Mind. Blown.:: There were pick up trucks with stripper poles in the beds. STRIPPER POLES. Little did I realize the foreshadowing this was for the rest of the night. We went over to another lot and the people had clearly been there all day. It was like a frat party. You could barely move there were so many people, the music was blaring and everyone was rocking their red solo cups. As we were walking through one guy looked at my mum and yelled "MOMMMMMMMMMM". It was the funniest thing ever, she grabbed me and was like moving on, clearly unimpressed.

In line for the porta potty we made some new friends. Leave it to the Canadians to find each other. I went on a beer run and when I got to the line I saw my mum chatting away with these pretty hot guys. I was like uh OKAY Chaunce, way to work it. It turned out they were from Canada. Upon further probing we discovered they were rookies here for Flyers training camp. They had just come to party but wanted tickets and we had tickets. It was really funny because we had noticed them right when we first got there... My mum was like

"OOH Pink shorts- he is so your type"

I was like

"Thanks mom but nah, theres another cowboy I'd rather be with."

Turned out he was with our hockey buds. We went over to their tailgate and pink shorts was WASTED. I asked him

"Do the color of your shorts speak to your sexual orientation?"

He looked at his friend and was like

"She just chirped my shorts"

then came over and kissed me on the cheek. So cute. So drunk. We ended up just giving the one player T our extra tickets because he was actually really polite and nice. He wasn't wasted and was just an all around nice guy. He didn't walk around boasting who he was and I appreciated that. My mum had a friend selling tickets too, the other guys got theirs as well from him. We parted ways before the show but it added to our tailgate experience.

We went into the show and pulled our 3B routine. Bathroom, Booze, & Buy. I got the CUTEST shirts, which I'm actually obsessed with. We missed Thomas Rhett but we got there just in time for Jake Owen.

Oh. My. Gawd.

He was incredible live. He would take pics with peoples' camera phones, sign hats, drink people in the audience's beer. He was so entertaining, so hot, so good live. My mum was shocked at how full it was, because normally the opening act is hit or miss, but everyone was in their seats ready to go. He dedicated "Alone With You" to all the cowboys with their cowgirls and it made me wish a certain someone was there with me, (not saying I didn't have fun with my mom, I mean she's my partner in crime!) Did I mention how hot Jake Owen was?

Jason was so close I could hardly wait. DJ Silver played and he was AWESOME. But then, the lights went low. It was so dark you couldn't see anything... until the screens lit up. At the top of the main screen on stage that was flashing Crazytown, (the song he opened with) was the silhouette of a cowboy. My heart stopped. It was go time!

I rocked out the whole show. I could barely even handle it. My calves hurt so much today because I constantly jump up and down during concerts. Its a great workout, I highly recommend it. I was singing, bopping around, my cowboy hat flew off like 5 times and we were so lucky the people around us were cool. Our seats were so close. The pictures don't do it justice.

When he played "She's Country" you would have thought I won the lottery. I was jumping up and down so hard, it was as if there was an invisible jump rope. Maybe all my trainer needed to do to get me to jump longer than 30 seconds was to play that song because I went non stop! His encore was "My Kind Of Party" and I was just as stoked! My mom looked over at me half way through the concert and I was like

"WHAT are you staring at?"

She was like

"You know every word"

in a very surprised tone. I was like

"Mom, I don't think you understand this secret obsession I have with country music, cowboys and plaid. Tonight is one of the highlights of my summer!"

We got a sweet little surprise too. So Jason walks to the top of the main screen and talks about how he did this duet with Kelly Clarkson. I was like "OOh saw her two weeks ago." So he's like

"Yea we did this song 'Don't You Wanna Stay' and so ladies and gentleman KELLY CLARKSON."

I was expecting her to show up on a screen or something like a video but NO! SHE WAS THERE! I just about died. What are the odds she was at our show? She's touring with Maroon 5, how did this happen? She looked hot too! She had a skin tight red leopard print dress (very fitting for Jersey.)I was stoked, it was just the BEST concert. He is so talented and sounded amazing live and I would put it in the top 2 concerts I've ever seen. Yes, ahead of Britney, I know I know I just admitted that.

When it was over I was crushed. I actually could have stayed a few more hours....

So the rest of my night.... ::Evil Grin:: There will be a part two. :)

Until then, I need to sleep. I have my second opinion tomorrow with Cooper Radiation people. We got what could be bad news on Friday. I may have to have another surgery to biopsy the lymph node. This would be a lot more intense than the last one because I would be completely under anesthesia, and they would use robots. Hmmm that sounds fun. ANy other scenario and they would just radiate but they don't want to have to give me any more radiation than they have too because it really could trigger my bone marrow, i.e. my leukemia to relapse. So we're waiting to get more information. Until then, I start radiation on Tuesday. ::Not Excited!:: So we'll be getting more information on that this week. I can just sit and think about how amazing my weekend was whenever it gets me down.

Thanks Mom!

$#!% 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.