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.

And So It Begins.... Radiation Day 1

If you had have asked me what I expected from today when I woke up, it would be completely different from how my day ended up. (Tuesday August 27)

We had our appointment at Lankenau hospital today to just get more information on the radiation. I was scheduled to start radiation, but after our appointment at Cooper, we weren't so sure. We went into the appointment armed with a little more knowledge about the whole process and wanted to see what was different between the two hospitals and why one was better than the other.

Once in the appointment, Dr. D2 started going over everything again. It turned out, his treatment plan was almost identical to Coopers. Cooper had just gone into a lot more detail when describing (which I hate) and that's why I felt like they were completely different. Dr. D2 had a confidence about him. He knew what he needed to do and didn't want to waste time. I wouldn't be able to start with Cooper for another week. I WOULD be able to start today with him. He got up, left the room to give my mum and I a chance to decide, and my mom and I agreed, Lankenau it is. I don't want to wait any longer. Dr. D2 said it himself, my cancer was metastatic meaning it spreads and if we don't get it under control sooner than later who knows where else it will spread too and how treatable that will be.

I didn't care anymore. I like Cooper's facilities better, but I like my doctors at Lankenau better. My decision was made. Lankenau also brought up one more point that for me was a big deal. They were NOT going to do the surgery. They said there was only a 7% false positive rate that my lymph nodes were faking being cancerous. They were just going to assume they are. The robotic surgery is risky. Its dangerous. There will be scars, and I already have enough, hence why I hate bikini season.

The other thing I liked about Dr. D2, he said this one sentence which made me feel a lot better.

"You're only 25, you're young, I'm treating to cure so I'm going to be aggressive. To give you the best quality of life."

That sentence made me feel like he knows that there is no point in curing if there is no life to live after. It sounds morbid, but its true. That instilled the confidence in me to say lets just do this. I feel like I've been waiting around for Cooper and I don't have time to wait. My life is waiting for me.

I miss my friends. I miss work. GOODNESS GOLLY do I miss work. I miss my customers, my regulars, my coworkers who are my friends, I miss my bosses, even the crazy ones. I miss my gym, I miss my hometown which can honestly be insanely annoyingly small at times but I don't even care anymore. We got a FroYo place, so obviously they're moving up in the world. I want to move on and start by getting home. I'm not even upset I'm going home to the crazyness that ensues when you put your life on hold, "like crap will my car work, prob not." Dealing with OSAP and phone bills and all this stuff you try to put on hold. Its just a pain, but I don't even care. I can't even wait.

So I started radiation. I walked over with the techs and they compared me with my picture that they took on the first day I met them. (Yup, because everybody wants to be getting radiation these days, its all the rage.) I went into the room, and there was a huge machine on the table. All I keep thinking about when I think about it, is the villain from Spiderman, Dr. Octopus. The machine had these long arm like things that went around your body to take pictures (xrays before the radiation) and it was so creepy. I wasn't allowed to move. Every time the radiation beam would fire, these 5 lights which resembled Emergency Exit signs lit up with a beeping nose. My heart jumped each time.

*This is an advertisement for the machine. It's similar but not even close.

I was afraid to move even the slightest movement. I was scared at first, because how was I supposed to know how this was supposed to feel. I could feel tears welling up, and could just picture them about to roll down my cheeks but then my mindset changed. The cancer is on the left side of my pelvis and I just pictured my cancer clinging on for dear life as this machine zapped its brains out. I pictured it shrinking, disappearing. By the time I knew it, it was over. The techs came back in and told me they had to give me another tattoo. Great. That was it, it was done. I felt weird.

People keep asking me

"How do you feel?"

I don't know how I feel. I feel weird. Somethings off. I can feel the cancer, as weird as that sounds. Its on my left side and it feels like there is this cramp like sensation there. Its not tingly and its not crampy its just awkward feeling there. It feels like if I laugh too hard or loud or move the wrong way it could burst. I feel like I constantly have to pee and like I did a really intense ab workout. There's this burn sensation but not. It's just not something you can describe. I'm tired and just weirded out.

We start chemo tomorrow. Between the two, I'm probably going to be feeling like $#!%. I'm angry at the people who assumed,

"Oh this will be a piece of cake."

No, its not. It sucks and let me feel like it sucks. Stop trying to tell me not to get mad or telling me to stop pitying myself because I'm allowed to be angry and upset. I can be the most positive person in the world, because I am, I know I'm going to beat this, but I can and am allowed to hurt, and cry and be pissed the **** off sometimes.

There's nothing worse then when people try to tell you,

"Well maybe you should go do this"

, or

"maybe doing something will help."

Well you know what, maybe laying in my bed, doing nothing or reading and taking my mind off the situation will help too.
I had a person after chemo say

"Well I think it would be good for you to get out of the house, see a movie and take your mind off things."

I felt like I wanted all day to die, stop pressuring. Odds are I want to see you, I usually do, but unfortunately it has to be on my time right now. How I am going to be feeling is unpredictable, Don't take it personal.

The hardest part about dealing with any type of cancer is people not being able to relate to the situation and thinking they understand completely. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND. No matter how close you are to someone who has gone through it. I can't even relate to people that have gone through it because everyone's situation is different. Its a really lonely feeling.

The best thing people have done for me to help me get through, is to take my mind off of it. The last time I was in transplant, Twilight was just about to come out. I became obsessed, with everything Twilight. I read the books in 5 days, I went and saw the movie 13 times (I was in isolation and the only thing I was allowed to do out of the house was go to matinee movies.) It was the best distraction. Go ahead, ask me questions to understand, don't ever assume. I don't mind answering questions, it helps me to know that you're at least trying to understand. That you care. Some times, I'm not going to want to talk about it and some days I would LOVE to vent. This is where support becomes a fine line. I had a person wish me luck for radiation yesterday. After I said thanks he asked

"When will you get the results?"

haha I giggled and laughed but thought it was adorable.

"Its not a test, its a treatment so there wont be results."

I appreciated he asked, I appreciated he cared and don't expect him to know whats going on and that is 100% ok.

It sounds like I'm really ungrateful for a lot of the support I've received. I'm not, I'm so blessed. But I also know this situation is similar to a funeral... You don't know what to say. Its ok to not know what to say, whats not ok is to assume you know whats best. Aid in helping someone deal, don't tell them how to deal with their life altering situation.

As I head into the microwave Dr. Octopus machine tomorrow, I'm going to remember:

"Yes this sucks! Yes you are one unlucky SOB, but YES you can get through it. Yes you WILL get through it. Yes your life will never be the same, but YES you will have a life and you have amazing friends and family, and although you will never be ordinary and normal, you will just have to do with being extraordinary, and special."

Some Days...

There are going to be good days and there are going to be bad days. Today was a bad day. (Monday)

I went to Cooper to get a second opinion for radiation treatment. The Cooper team wants me to have another surgery next week. Its much bigger than the last one. They are going to biopsy the periaordic lymph nodes (the one in my abdomen.) They don't want to radiate them unless they ABSOLUTELY have too. The more radiation, the more likely it will trigger my leukemia to come back. So, with that being said, they want to conclusively determine whether or not the cancer spread to those lymph nodes.

In the meantime, they will begin radiation of the pelvis, but with a different type of radiation. Yes there are different types, to me it all just seems like cooking me in a microwave. So I have two hospital teams saying kind of opposite things. What happens if I chose one team, and it doesn't work, or the symptoms and side effects are awful, and I could have chosen the other team and avoided them. What if I chose one team and it doesn't work, and the other team would have. All of these whats if F^(%!#@ Suck! I don't like what ifs.

My philosophy with a lot of the hospital stuff is, I don't want to know what you're doing, just do it. Don't tell me about all of the scary potential side effects. We'll deal with them when we have too, all you're doing is stressing me the hell out. I get it they have to disclose everything, but I don't want to know. As long as I'm not in a study, and its going to get me better, do it.

We're going back to Lankenau one more time to let them state their case. Give them a chance to tell us why their way is better. I'm thinking Cooper strictly for the reason that Lankenau doc is a dude and Cooper is a woman, and the dude talked about inserting this thing (a plastic like cylinder to help the radiation beams go exactly where they need to go, YAH and you thought an IUD was bad), and described it

"Oh its just like a tampon, except plastic."

Yeah well Cooper doc said

"Umm not so much, men will describe anything that goes up there like a tampon. You need sedation for it."

Well thats just peachy keen. I can't wait for the days when the only things I'll be sticking up there will be tampons, boys and BOB (Battery operated boyfriend for those of you who don't know who BOB is.)

I left the hospital. I was supposed to see my psych doc, but we ran late and I was mentally exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to anyone. Except K, and E, who really surprised me and is continuing to surprise me, in a good way.

I came home and my mom made me eat. I've never had a problem with my appetite. I've never been the girl who gets stressed and doesn't want to eat, well today, food repulsed me. So my mom forced me to eat and I went to sleep. I read a little bit and was out. cold.

I woke up, watched a movie, and had dinner. Luckily my mom made a pot roast. It was delicious and comfort food. The doc told me I'm going to have to eliminate veggies and fruit from my diet. Great, I've been working since march to transform my diet and now they want me to revert back to my old ways. Life is one big contradiction.

My other friend K messaged me and was like wanna skype? I was like

"I look like hell but sure."

I got on Skype and it was all my work friends there with her. I bawled, my eyes out. You don't realize how much you miss some people until you see them and know you can't see them for a long time. It was the perfect end to this day because quite honestly today sucked. I only got a few minutes with them before Skype conked out, but it was better than nothing. They went out and partied that night and took my fundraiser sign with them to take pics with. They made me feel included from 500 miles away. Those are some GOOD friends! Thank you guys :)

At least I'm going to bed not feeling forgotten, feeling WAY more homesick. Today is the kind of day, that makes me want to just get better, hide out in the country and live the simplest life possible. No ambitions, nothing exciting, but today is just one day in this grand scheme of things. Tomorrow is a new day. In fact, there are only 14 minutes left in today. 14 Minutes until I get a fresh day to start again. Because, some days are going to be good and some days are not. Today is one of the days that are not, and thats ok.

$#!% 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.