Happy ReBirthday to Me, I'll be 5 Years Leukemia Free

This coming Monday is October 7th. When people would ask me when my birthday was, depending on the day I would answer one of two ways. Cinco De Mayo- May 5th or my Re-Birthday October 7th. It would just depend on the day because a lot of the time I didn't want to acknowledge my real birthday considering I relapsed twice on it, to the day. When it comes to birthdays there are the big milestone birthdays- 13-16-18-19(in Canada)-20-21(In the Us)-25-30-40. Well when it comes to your Re-Birthday, 5 is the big one. 5 years post transplant and you're considered "cured". This Monday is my 5th rebirthday and now I can't really be excited because I'm fighting a different kind of cancer.

I've been dreaming of this birthday since I was 16, since the very first time I was diagnosed with Leukemia. Dreaming of the day I could say

"I've finally hit 5 years I'm technically cured!"

I kept relapsing at 2 years so I never got the opportunity to celebrate it. Now, ten years later from my initial diagnosis of cancer and I'm four days away...FINALLY! I should be ecstatic, I should be thrilled, but I'm... crushed. Dreaming of this birthday I had pictured the sweet 16 I never got, or the 21st, I barely got. For my 21st birthday, I spent it with one of my best friends in a town I'd never been to before with people I was meeting for the first time. All because I was freshly single from a bad breakup and he got to keep all the friends back home. God Bless J, and her roommates who took me in and gave me an amazing 21st. I had an amazing time, I really did. Still, it was a lonely one. I got to spend it with J, but I missed my friends back home too. Wishing I had all the people I loved and cared about and that they were as excited about something as I was for something that meant a lot to me. I had J, my best friend since the 3rd grade, and honestly with out her, I can't imagine what I would have done. She was the only one who made me feel like she cared. The only one! Plus her roommates were Awesome!

Some people say Birthdays are not a big deal, whatever its another year... but I resent that. Its another year of life, that you are being blessed with to live. You shouldn't only celebrate your own, you should celebrate those of the people you care about, because they too are being blessed with another year to live. Oprah once said something along the lines of 'Celebrating your birthdays are important because if you don't, one day you'll wake up and be 50 and wonder where the time went.'

Expectation leads to disappointment. So I've really lowered my expectations as far as birthdays come and men too, but thats a whole other blog post. I find them to be the loneliest times of the year. This past birthday was my big 25, and honestly, although I had the best time, there was a constant reminder how certain friends, are really just surface friends. I spent it with my Dad and his girlfriend, work friends (because they were working) and just a few other close friends. One whom I had just met a few months earlier. One who was a friend from school, who is just the BEST! A lot of my new friends as far as the customers and regulars from work were there too, but they would have been at the bar regardless. My point, if you were to ask me to make a list of my closest friends, not a single one was there. Yes some of them had very good excuses. Some live far away. Some had other commitments. Some- I wasn't able to make theirs and it goes both ways. But it doesn't change the fact that it was... lonely. If you look at the pictures, or were there you're probably thinking

"Umm it seemed like you had a pretty good time to me?"

I did, don't get me wrong, but that's because I was tipsy, ok slightly inebriated, the people that were there, really stepped up for barely knowing me, and one of my best qualities is I can have fun anywhere. A situation is what you make of it, and although I was hurt, I wasn't going to let that ruin my night, so I made it awesome!

So dreaming of my 5th Rebirthday, because really its the biggest milestone I have yet, I have no expectations. I had such high hopes for this day. I wanted my mom AND dad there. I wanted friends who were from out of town to come, no excuses, (realistically though I understood if they were further than a few hours away). I wanted family (Well really just a few cousins and one cool aunt.) My Grandmother (for the record, I only have one- Funk Master T or Grandmas Tiny). My sister. I wanted all the people who had helped me pull through all the bull$#!% of the three bouts with leukemia. Heck if I could have invited some of the medical personnel from CHOP I would have. I wanted it to be a celebration, not just about me, but about life. About people who support each other, and love each other. My donor, Frank, who is a god given angel. I wanted a big cake, and not just a whatever cake but an actual carrot cake with really pretty decorations... i.e. Britney maybe lol. There was one birthday I was slightly hurt because all I wanted was a carrot cake but that detail had been overlooked, not important.

Maybe this is why I want to be an event planner so bad. So I can throw the parties for people and make sure they're wonderful in every aspect. I can't control the people who go or how they act, but I damn well can make sure everything else is perfect.

I don't want people to think that I've never had a good birthday, real or Rebirthday, because some have been AMAZING! I had one in Kingston I'll never forget. I had two dresses for it. One for dinner with the girls and the other for the bar. It was this white strapless dress and I had so much fun I couldn't even handle it. When I look back, that was one of the best. My Third Rebirthday was pretty great too!

There was another one, I think it was my 20th. It was at my cottage and I had made a beer pong table that was ridiculous. Everyone one of my Canadian friends that I loved and cared about was there. It was so much fun. My school friends, my cottage friends, my family friends- it was right after we had found out I relapsed the second time. It was my birthday/going away party. I felt so loved and it was the perfect time because I was devastated I was sick again. But for that night, I didn't feel sick. I didn't think about the terror that was upon me, or the fact that my summer wasn't going to happen, I felt loved and had so much fun with people I cared so much about!

These birthdays arn't about the presents they're about the presence. The presence of love and the people you care about and the reciprocation, them showing they care and love you too. That's why I HATE Christmas and love Thanksgiving. Think about it, its the same holiday, minus the presents and therefore the pressure. You're with your family, you eat Turkey and you watch football. Same concept, minus the greed.

So where does this leave me and my bday. I could look at this from the angle of a 8 year old child being whiney about not getting a birthday party. But thats not whats happening here, and if anyone thinks it is, they don't appreciate what I've been through and how big this is for me or anyone like me having gone through a similar situation.

I've had leukemia THREE times. I've lost my hair, I've ingested toxic chemicals to basically kill me to bring me back to life with the bone marrow of a stranger. I've missed out on A LOT. I think I'm allowed to get excited over the fact that I'm about to be 5 years leukemia free.

However, with that being said, its kind of hard. I'm stuck in New Jersey and most of my friends and family are in Canada. Also, even if I wanted to celebrate, I have the energy level of a rock. I don't know if I could eat carrot cake or would even enjoy it for that matter since food is my enemy. (Except Brio, for some reason their chopped salad and penne bolognese has been something my stomach can handle... weird.) How am I supposed to celebrate a milestone that is about being Cancer Free when I'm battling a different type of cancer. Now I've never totally understand the proper context for this word, but I'm pretty sure this is exactly what Irony is. Celebrating being cancer free for one type of cancer but having another.

So this makes me feel like this milestone is obsolete. Now, I'm just going to have to wait another 5 years to celebrate being pooter cancer free. I've missed out on enough in my life, I'm sure I can handle something else I've been excited about.
So my take away for this. Celebrate your birthdays, and those of the people you care about. You're celebrating life. It doesn't have to and shouldn't be about the presents but the Presence. For me, I'll be watching the voice on Monday night with my mom and sis, and I'm excited about that. Because although there will be no hoopla, I'm 5 years past what was literally a torturous part of my life. Moving away from that to move towards the life I'm ready to start living.

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

Flashback January 3, 2004.

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

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

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

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

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

"Nat, please go get dad."

To which any unruly concerned little sister would reply

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

I choked back a yell and simply said again

"Seriously Natalie, GO GET DAD. PLEASE!"

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

"What the hell happened?"

The first words out of my mouth were

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

$#!% Just Got Real (Part 2)

Here is the second part of Tuesday

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

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

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

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

I was like...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My dad then said to me

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

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

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

So back to E, my phlebotomist. I told her

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

It was nice that she remembered

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

I said

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

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

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

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

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

His response was pretty good

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

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

"Courtney, just take the perc."

As I usually say when I do

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PCR Results and "Friendly" Food For Thought....

So the last few days have been simple. Friday I slept and recovered from all of the commotion of the E.U.A. on Thursday. Nothing too exciting. My dad left to go back to Canada, which sucked. I felt bad because I didn't get to say goodbye. It made sense, coming all the way over to our house, which is in the opposite direction, just to wake me up to say good bye would have gone over as how my dad would say "Like a fart in church." Haha So although I didn't get to say goodbye, I got a call as soon as he was in Canada.

The good thing that came out of Friday was I finally got my PCR results. A PCR is the genetic blood test to check to make sure my leukemia is not back. With my type of leukemia gene's 15 and 17 translocate, basically they switch spots. So think of it like this, when I'm healthy my gene's would go in order... 13/14/15/16/17/18 but when I have leukemia they are like this 13/14/17/16/14/18. Long story short- NO LEUKEMIA!!!! This was huge news because it will really dictate how we approach treatment. It also means my donor from my last transplant is actually an Angel, because his bone marrow is working wonders and keeping me healthy! Thank you Frank! I'm going to make it to my 5 year ReBirthday after all :)

Yesterday, I went to the movies with the fam. We went and saw "We're the Millers". It was funny. The exciting thing was the movie theater. The seats were recliner chairs and they were SO comfy! It wasn't just a movie it was an experience.

We got home from the movie and lunch and I pretty much went to bed. My back has not been my friend lately. I did however take the time to plan with with one of my besties J, about the concert we're going to tonight. Someone close to me happens to be acquaintances with one of the wives of Matchbox 20, and were able to get me tickets. It was the coolest, just waking up to a text, "You have 4 tickets to the show on Sunday" :) Once again this goes back to the whole idea of having something to get excited about.

I'm stuck in my house, not working and feeling shitty. I am the same girl who less than a week ago was working 2 bar jobs, which worked out to 6 nights a week, volunteered with the Canadian Cancer Society, trained at the gym three days a week sometimes 4 days, was working on a job interview for a dream like job position, AND was in school. Talk about feeling like you've lost it all, I went from not having a second to actually sit down and actually eat a meal to basically having more time than I know what to do with, and I'm a girl who likes to be busy. That is another reason this blog has been so helpful for me personally. So when I have something to get excited about, I sure as hell do and I'm grateful as hell for it!

Its interesting talking about losing things, because people, you can lose people in this process too, but you can gain them as well. When your world turns upside down, its the people you don't expect who step up, and the one's you thought who would who don't. Well, some people you expect do, but normally its a surprise. I can honestly say, I've lost one good friend. Sometimes, people are too caught up in themselves to see the bigger picture. They just don't understand, that there are so many bigger things to be worrying about than stupid miscommunications, grudges and drama. In moments like this in your life, you have a lot of time for self reflection, and you realize whats trivial and not worthy of your energy. I don't have time for the negativity in my life. I don't have time for drama, and blowing things out of proportion, which is sad because it equates to me losing those negative friends. Holding grudges is so immature, life is too short. Especially as evidenced by this, it could be gone in a split second, its precious too, so don't take people for granted. Appreciate gestures, no matter how small, because as cliche as it sounds, its the thought that counts and in this day in age, the fact that someone is thinking about you at all, should be enough.

I'm not saying I'm perfect because I'm not. I'm sure I get upset over trivial things, but I always make sure to remind myself to step back and take a look at what the real issue is. Its sad really how true colors show, but I would rather see them now then waste anymore time. I once heard a rumor about me, that a coworker had said. Basically the gist of the story is that a customer had said to her

"Oh that new girl is so sweet!"

And my co worker responded with

"Ya, if you like that kind of person who HAS to be nice to and friends with everybody."

At first I was so hurt by this, because I don't HAVE to be nice to or friends with everybody, I WANT to be. Why? Simply because what will I gain by not being nice or friendly, nothing good. Who am I to make anyone feel bad about themselves and therefore why wouldn't I want to be nice and friendly with everyone. I then thought about her words again and realized, this was a compliment, a backhanded one, but a compliment none the less, because if thats the absolute WORST she could say about me, then I'm not doing too bad. The world is a better place when people are nicer to other people. That pay-it-forward Coke commercial gets me every time! My point is, when you're faced with trials and tribulations, people's true colors show, and although you may not like what you see, don't let it bring you down, but let it be a reminder of what you don't want to be, so that in your own small way, you can better the world by being a better person.

On the plus side, some people have really surprised me. One person, who I thought would run for the hills scared, has actually been a huge support system (Which has been an AWESOME surprise, no seriously I'm grinning from ear to ear). Two of my best friends, are still my best friends and reminding me why they are everyday, even while visiting BC and being stuck in Kingston. They've legit just been the best and I'm so lucky to have them, in fact, I don't know what I would do with out them. People I've never met have reached out, people I've lost touch with, people who I didn't see eye to eye with. I get asked a lot how I stay so positive and its not something I'm choosing to do, I just am. I am though because I'm filled with a spirit full of love that I've received from my support systems.

Supporting someone going through something like this, doesn't have to be difficult. They just need to know that they can call you to vent if need be. They need to know you DO care and are not just going through the motions. That's the difference. A lot of this process makes you feel removed and withdrawn from life, so when your friends send you updates and make you still feel included and missed, that's like gold! There's nothing worse than feeling forgotten. I'm so lucky to have a support network larger than life. Including this sexy man....

So as this journey continues, I'll say it again, it's not necessarily what people say to you, its how they make you feel. Switch that around too, and think about how you want to make someone feel today, aim to make one person smile, and I guarantee you'll feel better about yourself. I am feeling so blessed, thank you!

One last side note, I'm not the only one dealing with this dreadful disease. If you have a minute, please check out someone close to me who is also young and doesn't deserve to be dealing with this. She is a fighter and needs all the love and support she can get as well! This is her website here http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/for-robyn-with-love/65421