T.A.F. - And The Results Are.....

"An Arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards. So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that its going to launch you into something great. So just focus and keep aiming."

The arrow has been my symbol of hope for this adventure. This speed bump has caused me to sit back, slow down, re-evaluate, and get excited. Cancer was a set back, a HUGE, sucky one. But, it put me on the launching pad to shoot forward with the rest of my life.

Sunday night, I rolled around aimlessly in bed, for hours. I couldn't sleep. I knew what Monday morning brought. 6 am... 7am... 8am... the last time check I remember was 9am. My mum woke me up at quarter to twelve and I laid in bed cursing the world. It was cold, and I didn't want to get out of bed. I finally got up, threw some real clothes on (you know as opposed to fake ones) and sat back in bed. Going through my pharmacy of medications, I created my cocktail. 1 Perc, 1 xanax, 1 Valium, 1 Ativan, 1 Codeine. Ok this should do it I thought. My mum's best friend K was visiting in town and so we got in the car and were out. I warned her, this could get interesting.
We stopped at Wawa

"Um are you able to go into Wawa?"

My mum asked. In my most offended tone-

"Mom, this stuff hasn't even touched me."

I got my biscuit (OMG I miss Tim Hortons) and we were really off. My tolerance is really too high.

We got to the hospital and didn't have to wait long in the waiting room. A, the nurse, took me back to get my vital signs and all I was excited about was the fact my weight had stayed the same. Hey, its the small victories Then off to the cow oven mitts room.

I stripped, knee socks matching the cow mitts which very much excited me. Sheet on top and ready to wait for the doc. I quickly popped a dilaudid while on the table, my anxiety was rising faster than the mercury in a thermometer in a heat wave.

So, the meds and why I knew I needed to be sedated. If all went well today, Dr. D was going to remove the "thing" inside me. Said thing is a device that was surgically implanted to help Dr. D2 during the high dose radiation. The device helped him to guide the tools that would be inserted to get the radiation beam to go exactly where he needed it too, and to help protect the healthy surrounding tissue. It was the procedure that brought on tears each time because it was so painful and I couldn't wait to get this thing out. However, it had been surgically implanted, so I didn't expect its removal to be a piece of cake either.

Dr. D came in and got the speculum ready. It was SO painful for him to insert. This was already not going well. Any woman who has had to visit her OB/GYN knows it can be uncomfortable and awkward but painful shouldn't be on that list of adjectives. I gripped my hands together and closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
I didn't see the scissors, but hearing them, inside your lady bits, its scary as hell! They had to cut the stitches and I could hear each slice of the scissor. I kept trying to picture the Eiffle Tower with each breath, Black Christian Louboutin pumps and a sturdy gentleman and I kissing underneath France's beloved structure. It was the first image that came to mind and I kept going back to it, every time I thought I was going to faint from the sound of a slice.

I can't even describe anyone else in the room because I was on mental breathing duty. There were four or five stitches and I don't know how I wasn't shaking. Maybe I was. Finally once the stitches were cut he gently pulled out the little thing. (Which in reality wasn't that little). Normally I would have taken a pic, but it wasn't something I wanted to remember. I was tender and it hurt like hell. When everything was out he did his exam and the tiniest of movements and touches hurt. (This is not going to be good for my impending sex life.)

"You have had a complete response to the treatment."

Wait whAAAAAT? It was so refreshing to hear. It was what I needed to hear. It was to be completely honest, not what I was expecting to hear.

Flashback:
Dr. D pulled my parents aside after my first surgery months ago. The prognosis wasn't good and this was going to be one hell of a challenge.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

We went in his office to discuss and FINALLY the words I had been waiting to hear, had been said, again.

"You have had a complete response to the treatment!"

There were lots of questions but as per Courtney

"Um so when do I get to start with the vibrators and this whole vaginal dilation thing?"

- 4 weeks. UGH, the one thing I was excited about, but all good things are worth waiting for. As we were walking out of his office Dr. D said

"I was really surprised at how well you handled the procedure."

To which I confidently responded

"I'm not going lie, I'm slightly sedated."

With a smile he returned with a quick

"Thought so."

Now, am I out of the gate yet, no. BUT most likely YES! In four weeks I have to have a PET scan to check my lymph nodes. I have to wait the four weeks because all of the radiation and treatment will have caused inflammation that could lead to a false positive. It's too intense and expensive a scan to just do on a whim.
I will have one follow up appointment after that and then be done! DONE! DONE DONE DONE! (Until my next check up.)

SO where does this leave me. For the next two years I have to have a check up every three months. If there is the slightest of symptoms that something could be wrong, I have to high tail it to a doc.

HELLO PARANOIA- nice to meet you, I think we're going to be the best of friends.

After those two years, I have to have a check up every 6 months for 5 years. I have to continue hormone replacement therapy as well but that didn't surprise me. SO basically, now lots of doctors appointments for the next few years, again.

In the next four weeks we will check as well to make sure the leukemia wasn't brought on by the radiation. In the mean time and for now.

"Hey cancer- Fuck you, I WIN!"

The car ride home was a blur. I was stoned out of my mind. (Thanks meds for kicking in too late...as usual.) I remember blabbering on about salsa. We even stopped and got some. I remember passing out in the car (because I remember being woken up.) As we were walking in the door I stopped and stared at the clouds-

"Its going to snow."

Everyone was like yea ok whatever. (It snowed this morning- boom stoned weather predictions!) I tackled my sister's bff J when I walked through the door, he wasn't mad, in the slightest. I spilled vanilla scented oil all over my uggs which are not brand new, but look brand new. Just Peachy. I inhaled a quesadilla like it was my day job. I texted a few people (Oh lord I'm sorry for those conversations I can only imagine.) I had my iv fluids put in, I passed out. I woke up, had a quick skype date with one of the besties M, and then passed right back out. Writing this hasn't been easy because I'm having a drug binge hangover. But honestly, YAY! NO more painful $#!%. Or at least painful to the point of needing to be incoherent.

So its done. I did it. I'm praying that its done for good. That this will never happen to me again. Thanks for the offer but I'm completely content with 4 times. I'm ok with follow ups and check ups because I'm alive and rocking it. I still have some major recovery to go through but did I mention I did it! I've got this. As someone close to me says I'm ... no he and I BOTH are TAF! - Tough. As. F***!

SO now, reintegration back to normalcy begins! I'm ready to pull a Katniss and shoot this arrow forward that is my life! BOOM!

You're Worth The Whole Damn Lot

"Even if he/it/whatever breaks your heart, I feel like you're underestimating your worth."

Words that I've heard over and over but every time I feel an ounce of rejection I never listen to them. Why is it when we look in the mirror we see everything that we are not. Wouldn't it be nice to see what other people saw, to see what we are? To take a minute and listen to all the things people have told you about yourself, that are positive! Not because they were just saying something because they thought you needed to hear it, to make you feel better...

"NOOOO You don't look Fat. Oh he totally is going to regret breaking up with you. You look awesome bald."

but because they actually meant it, because it's true!

Why can we as humans not introspectively agree with what we are told about our selves, that is positive?

SO here it is for me.

I've said it before I'll say it again, and this time not subtle. I cannot have kids- radiation, chemo, killed that for me. I can't remember anything... (I apologize if I've repeated things 100x, forgotten basic things or forgotten to respond to emails and messages) -Thanks chemo for the memory or lack thereof. Right now, I can't have sex. Radiation & chemo, killed that for a while. I mean if we're playing the blame game lets say

"HEY Cancer- you've F****** $#!% up for me."

However, could this be the universe forcing into my skull what people who know me and care about me have been trying to tell me all along? You're pretty awesome even without kids, memory, sex life, etc. i.e. things that I think make me... different, imperfect, ::insert negative adjective here::

Your personality is so top notch, your outlook is so positive, you're randomly talented (make-up artistry, hula hoop instructor, bracelet maker, etc.), you're funny and witty (although half the time its not intentional), you're smart... ok book smart, and smart about really random things (close friends know my secret intellectual genius topic) and well ok smart-smart is debatable, NO math please. (Natural blonde after all). You're pretty, some may say hot, some may say gorgeous and realistically some may say not at all you're gross, (But to each their own and eff them, we're not talking about those people right now.)

Is it possible that everything I think I don't have/or am not right now (or ever) could be overlooked because all my good qualities outweigh what I'm "lacking"?

Life is one big pros and cons list. Isn't that what love is after all, a pros and cons list. I mean seriously, the "Perfect" person is not actually perfect. BUT, what one person may see as someone's flaws, i.e. what makes them different, and obviously their good qualities that make them different, is what makes them perfect for you. Hear me out.

SO in search of "perfection". It's not about being perfect as an individual, as in the perfect person. It's about being in the perfect situation.

It's about someone making you FEEL perfect, because you're not. No one is, but finding that person who can make you FEEL perfect, even with your imperfections, that's perfection.

Not pointing your imperfections out to you, but embracing them and loving them, because that's what makes you different and that's what makes you you.

SO, do I wish I was more stylish, yup. Do I want my long hair back, desperately but it will grow. Do I wish I could have kids, someday. Do I want to have sex tomorrow... hahah for me to know. Do I wish this and that about myself... of course. Do I want to lose 30 lbs yes, will I prob be WAY too skinny, well duh but whatever, I see myself completely different than others. Because I like every other human underestimates my worth. Unless you're one of those cocky bastards, but once again we're not talking about you.

However, when I look at myself I see things that someone who has never met me wouldn't, and maybe even people who have met me don't. I see fight. I see a body that has been through battle after battle in a seemingly never ending war, full of obvious battle wounds... but they're the illustrations to a story that is mine. A story that I'm damn proud of, because although it has made me "different" and "imperfect" it has made me, well me.
I see someone who wants to do a million things with her life, and some may say I'm indecisive but I say, I'm interested in multiple things and don't want to be complacent or bored or ... unhappy. I see someone who goes after what she wants... and right now that is life, to be alive. Not just to live but to live fulfilled.

It may not happen tomorrow. It may not happen next week, but life happens and I'm so lucky to be alive. So, although I underestimate my worth, it makes me strive to be better, it reminds me I'm alive and what a beautiful gift that is. A gift that reminds me that I am worthy. I may not see it or believe it sometimes, but luckily I have those people reminding me that the superficial things I feel I lack, doesn't take away from who I am or what I deserve, it makes me who I am, and that much more deserving of not perfection, but the perfect situation.

Oh and just because .... Fuck Cancer. I've said it before I'll say it again. You may win a few battles here and there, but there's no way in hell you're going to win this war. I'm UNKILLABLE. Oh if only I could actually be a Vampire ;)

Freedom Bell bc I'm Done Radiation Hell.

FInally Treatments are over. Now granted... this is just because the scheduled treatments are over. I'm not getting excited until I hear a doctor say

"Hey Courtney- good news. Your cancer is gone and you can strictly focus on recovering to get back to your life because there will be no more radiation rays or chemo to hinder that process"

BOOM! Until then, I have one week to begin recovering, until I see that doc.

People have been worried because I have not been posting but quite honestly there has not been much to post about. The horrible process that is High dose radiation is too difficult for me to talk about. Its too painful. It ruins me. A good friend told me on Sunday that I have managed to create a bubble for my health, and I am on the outside of that bubble. All because I told him

"If the biggest problem in my life right now, is whether a man will be able to love me because I can't have children, and that its something I should discuss early on in the relationship, i.e. is adoption ok? Then I am really quite blessed."

My guy friend K looked at me, stunned and said,

"Courtney, that shouldn't be the least of your worries, shouldn't you be worrying about your health? I mean you have a considerable amount to worry about"

To which I replied

"No, because I know I have a battle, I know I'm fighting, I know it sucks and its hard and difficult and it is taking its toll on me, but I know I'm going to beat it, so the future is where I'm focusing my efforts."

This all in the same day that I managed to puke my brains out non stop. I'm the only girl I know who can puke non stop, barely eat and not lose a pound. DAMN YOU body defense mechanisms.

SO today was my last treatment. My favorite nurse wasn't even there to say good bye which was heart wrenching. She's pregnant and had a fever and I hope she's ok. (She called the next day to apologize for missing me and I'll stop by to visit her next week!) I have a bunch of other good ones there though, so I had nothing to worry about.

This morning, my mom was out of town for work, so the task fell upon my sister to take me. She not only stepped up, but was super sister! I medicated hard core for the procedure. I'm already sore from the last few and it hurts regardless so I knew today was going to be the most painful. It was. I got very excited in the car though upon the realization that Valium has what appears to be heart in the pill. (I know its the letter V) But I was excited because

"OMG Valium LOVES me! It has a heart to tell me SO!"

In the car I was feeling wonderful. My cocktail of Valium, Ativan, Percocet, Codeine and Dilaudid was mixing quite nicely and I was right out of her. We walked into the hospital, I deactivated our parking chip and showed my sister how to use my Ipad. We were then sent into the exam room and it was as if I had all of the narcotics sucked directly out of my veins. I took another percocet and Valium but I knew they wouldn't have enough time to kick in. The pain was going to be unbearable today.

Dr. D began to insert all the wonderful god knows what of tools and I winced and teared and cried. Today was the first time, that I full blown cried. It was awful. The pressure, the pain (when I say pressure, thats what it feels like, an intense pressure causing the pain). I couldn't stretch any wider, I couldn't fit anymore in there. The radiation makes the skin feel like the worst sunburn and he was stuffing me like a turkey on thanksgiving day, putting intense pressure on the tender flesh. It made me never want to ever stick anything in there again, yet I still managed a

"So how long until I can have sex again?"

The doctor and intern laughing because of course that is what I would be thinking. The answer by the way- not for a long while. There is a lot of healing that needs to be done. Not that I have anyone I would be sleeping with anyway. Some serious trust has to be built up in that department. SERIOUS.

I couldn't move once the apparatus was inside me. Normally I could at least scooch and the pain would subside slightly but no way in hell. I was moved on to the stretcher by the doc and nurse and lay there in more pain than I thought possible. The extra perc and valium had clearly not kicked in yet. D, one of the nurses tried talking to me while I waited to be transported to the CT scanner, trying to keep my mind off the pain. It helped but the tears did not stop flowing. I was so proud of my sister who stayed strong the whole time beside me.

Once in the CT scanner, the tears continued to flow. I even tried pinching myself to see if I felt pain elsewhere maybe it would lessen the pain below (pain displacement I think its called). Not the case. The nurse stopped the CT to see if I was ok, because I normally stay so still. But with the pinching and trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop, I apologized and tried as hard as I could to grin and bare it and stay still.

After Ct we were moved to the mountain room where we waited for the radiation oncologist and the physicist, to come up with their plan of action. My sister fed me Gingerale and a dilaudid. The pain was not subsiding. My tolerance has clearly reached epic proportions for the medications. We watched an episode of Modern Family on my ipad and then it was time to go. MY sister back to the waiting room and me into the little dungeon of radioactive mountains as I call it. They played Rod Stewart for me, (He's kind of like Michael Buble and I'm not totally mad about that.) because I didn't like Elton John last time. (I know I know... but I can't help who I like.) I closed my eyes and tried to imagine I was in Paris. Walking on cobblestone streets wearing my Christian Louboutin black pumps. I was still in excruciating pain but the images of the Eiffel Tower and red soled dreams kept me in check. I breathed and clutched the collar of my sweater. I whispered to my self, this is almost over. You are almost done.

The doors opened and the doctor came in to take out the radiation apparatus. It's just as painful to take it out, but its a much quicker process and as soon as the pieces come out, there is an instant flush of release... a pleasant sigh of relief. The nurse and my sister helped me redress and step down off the stretcher.
I am done.

After I was dressed we went to the waiting room to wait for some prescriptions to be refilled. Its tradition that when one is done their radiation, they get to ring a bell in the waiting room. On my first day I asked,

"What the hell is the liberty bell doing in the waiting room"

but now I understand. The real one signifies Freedom for Philadelphia and this one signifies freedom from radiation for me. Nervous and emotional, from the medications, I said

"Hell yes I'm ringing this and sorry guys its going to be loud."

All the nurses and doctors gathered around and the waiting room clapped. It was very cliche but I'm glad I did it. I wanted so badly to ring it on the first day and was finally getting my chance.

I'm not going to get excited about being done treatment or being "Cancer free"... not yet. Although my doctor can no longer see any cancer, tests must still confirm it. I need a little time to heal and then in a week and a half I get to go and see my gynecologist oncologist who will set up the tests to confirm. Until then I rest and heal.

On the way home, I finally had an appetite. We got five guys burgers and fries, and I brought peanuts for the road. I ate every last bit. So far they have not come back up, but I'm not holding my breath.

This blog for me thus far has been my outlet and a place for me to talk about treatment. Now, once I do get the desired results, it will be about reintegrating back into normalcy. I'm sure it will be just as interesting if not more so because it will be about dating, Love, Sex, Health, Work, Coming off my pain meds and if my sister has it her way rehab lol. This war is far from over, but this battle may have been won.

High Dose Radiation With A Phantom of the Opera Music Station

So the first high dose radiation was unsuccessful. I was too sore from the surgery the day before. On lots of percs and dilaudid and I still couldn't handle it so they post poned it until Tuesday.

My mum was out of town for work in St. Louis. This is all good and well, but I couldn't drug up and drive to the doc by myself. My sis was going to take me but this is a little different than just sitting in the waiting room. Luckily my "big sister" (and I'll explain) was able to take me. Erin grew up with me, we knew she and her family whilst my dad was playing for the Caps. She was basically like my babysitter, but she was too close to our family to be JUST a babysitter. She came with us to LA and then to Jersey. SO to me, she's always been my big sister. So long story short, she was able to take me. She showed up with Starbucks- she knows me too well!

So we were off. I was blabbering like an idiot. I could feel myself literally not able to stop talking. I don't know if I was just nervous, hadn't seen her in a while and was catching up, or if the anti anxiety meds were turning me into a chatty Cathy. Could have been all of the above but the beauty of it, is Erin's a beaut... she let me go.

We got to the hospital and it was a blur. I remember being really nervous. I was obviously conditioned from last Friday to be nervous as hell because it hurt like hell last week. You know you're freaking out when everyone keeps asking if you're cold but its just because you have

"I'm F******* freaking out shakes!"

When we got there I deactivated the parking chip and gave it right back to Erin. I knew there was no way I was going to remember it. We headed into the exam room and I stripped down. The nurse went over things and I got a lot more anxious. I had taken my anti anxiety pills and pain meds before we left the house so they had definitely kicked in, but my tolerance has grown significantly and I wanted to be out cold. (Well not out cold, but not feeling they way I was feeling. Nervous, Scared, Pain.)

I popped one more on the table and then Dr. D2 came in and got to work. I laid there and it felt like they were inserting 100 dildos laced with thorns. There was a lot of pressure. I said to Dr. D2, because I really don't hold back

"I imagine this is what it would feel like to have sex with a guy who has a massive dick that you're clearly not prepared for."

hahaha laughs all around but I was dead serious, that $#!% hurt. He had to clip something to the something and the something. But I just felt lady bits getting all caught up in there. I was like "WHOA!" That I imagine is what it feels like to have your junk zipped into your zipper. In all honesty I joke, but there were tears. It's not a natural feeling, its a violated feeling. Its one thing to feel pain, its a completely different thing to feel such pain in such a vulnerable place. It scars you... mentally.


Once we FINALLY got everything set up, they wheeled in a stretcher. Clearly not an easy feat, these rooms are small. They had to be careful moving me because they didn't want to undo all the hard BDSM they had just set up inside my girly bits. I was then moved into the catscan room. They did a catscan to make sure it was in place properly. I don't know how it couldn't be because it felt like it took forever to insert and wasn't pleasant.

After the Catscan we went to the mountain room. You'll see why I call it that later. Personally I would have preferred a jungle-esq waterfall scene to the mountainside lake Sound Of Music scene but at least they decorated.

Erin and I sat for a while, I played on my Ipad and showed her... well I'm sure it had something to do with shopping and pinterest. One of my fail safes. After a while I met the physicist. I was really hoping for Sheldon Cooper but then again this guy was working on my Pootang so maybe I was glad it wasn't. I mean it would be preferable for him to have some experience down below, something I'm sure Sheldon Cooper (Big Bang Theory) in all his intelligence is lacking.

They wheeled the stretcher into the Mountain room and asked if I wanted music. I said sure, and was like ready to go. The huge radiation proof doors shut and I felt like I was on a space shuttle in a tiny compartment on my way to the moon. However good pain meds can induce that feeling even in the largest of spaces. The stretcher did barely fit.


The music: Phantom of the Opera. ::Palm to Head:: as Erin and my mum both cleverly pointed out when I told them... "Should have been Sound of Music" considering the mountain scene. I had actually been talking about Phantom of the Opera after my NYC trip with my mum and sister. I wanted to see it, they both couldn't believe that I hadn't. Also a girl my sister went to Middle and High School with, and was in plays with was just cast in the off Broadway production. I'm not surprised, from what I remember, girl has a set of pipes like no other and the last time I heard her was when she was in seventh grade. As the doors reopened I asked

"and who picked the music?"

It was of course my Eagles loving doc- who just so happened to be an opera-broadway aficionado too. I checked and saw that they used CD's, It should come as no surprise that I'm bringing Britney with me on Friday. Old School Britney, Baby One More Time and Oops I did it Again all up in the radiation hiizzous. Or lil Wayne. I don't know why, it just seems fitting.

When everything was said and done, they just pulled all their kinky gadgets out. Like it was no big deal. I got dressed and we were outta there. The meds were really hitting me so I barely made it home with out dozing a few times. I was exhausted. I got home, stripped, crawled in bed and was out cold. We got home at around 1:30pm. I was out cold until 5:30 am the next day.


My mum woke me up for dinner, but I barely remember that. She had brought me my fav, Pasta Bolognese. I had had Stauffers Mac and Cheese the day before and it ended up all over my bathroom floor. Conveniently I decided to puke it up after my sister left and decided to go and visit a friend. She definitely gets the nurse of the year award.

So High Dose Radiation SUCKS. It messes with your head. It makes me hate my lady bits, and with so much pain taking place down there, how am I ever going to want to have sex again. I mean, I'm being programed to associate them with pain, so unless I adopt a new BDSM fetish, this is going to suck. But the treatment is working... that is the plus side to all of this. So bring Friday on with a vengeance, I'm excited to get drugged up and its go time. I just have to remember...

F.O.M.O.

F.O.M.O. = Fear Of Missing Out =Story of my life!

This weekend sucks for me. It's Queen's Homecoming. The first in a few years, because well, Queen's gets a little rowdy. It's also Spanky's (The bar I work at in Peterborough) H.O.T.T.Oberfest! Lets get this straight, anyone who knows me knows I LOVE LOVE LOVE dressing up. Like not just a little bit but I have a whole costume box with everything you could imagine. Think Tupperware, the size of a bath tub. I'm missing both this weekend.

Part of me thought maybe I'd throw my lederhosen on to walk around the house so I wouldn't feel like I was missing out. But realistically that wont make up for the fact I'm not where I want to be, at all.

My Instagram has been flooded with pics of the fun activities this weekend. I don't know whether or not they're making me feel better because I can see whats going on or worse for what I'm missing out on. Queen's too, because there are so many people I havent seen in a few years now, and it would be SO nice to see them, and even better all decked out in tricolor.

On the plus side.

My ReBirthday is Monday. My mother was feeling so guilty for not doing anything with me, to which I kept replying,

"Mom there really isn't that much for us to do."

Going home to visit Peterborough would actually have been the only thing I would have wanted to do, but I wouldn't have been able to attend the things I wanted too, I just wouldn't have had the energy. I think being in the town, where I'm missing out on things is worse than being in a far away place.

But fear not, we devised the best possible ReBirthday celebration. We're going to New York. Only a few hours away, and I can't even wait. We got a hotel thanks to my moms Marriott Points. (I guess thats an advantage to her job and flying all over the country.) We're going to see "Book Of Mormon." Which I've heard amazing things about. I can't even wait. We convinced my sister to come because its written by the writers of South Park and so therefore it's worthy of her humor.

I can't wait because I'm going to wear a pretty dress! (Maybe even prettier shoes- I told my mum, if I am going to get a birthday present, then I want really pretty heels.) We're going to go to dinner and the show and then slumber party in the hotel. Two words- Pillow. Fights! I'm absolutely ordering room service!

I can't explain it, but this is the best possible scenario, like I don't think I could have thought up a better night. My mom rocked on this one. Who knows, maybe we'll find a MAC store and go get our make up done too!

Finally, something to look forward too. This is perfect because as of yesterday and today, I'm starting to feel better. I have to have a nurse come to the house to give me fluids and we think thats helping. It sucks having to get I.V.s every other day, but it beats dehydration.

EEEEK I'm just so excited I can't even handle it!

*Meant to Post this a couple of days ago... however rereading it, and having had last night happen... OOOOH So many funny stories to tell! :D

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.

2 Months Have Passed, 1 Month at Last?

My first blog post was on Sunday August 4th. This means I got the call on Friday August 2nd that I was sick again. Today is the 30th of September. In two days, it will officially be two months since I was diagnosed again with Cancer.

Its amazing how time flies. Its not just when you're having fun, its when you're miserable too. Why else would you look back on your life and wish you had spent it differently. Not everybody, but I'm sure a lot of people do. So in essence, maybe its not time that flies but your life.

I had plans for this weekend. Actually I've have plans for the last few weekends. I've had plans for the weekdays too. How many of those plans have I accomplished- none. I wanted to go to Color Me Mine to paint pottery with my mum. Specifically to make Dex his own personalized food bowl. All of the cats in the Druce Ladies household have had one. But nope. There's been movies I've wanted to see, but nope. I was supposed to go apple picking with my mum yesterday but that didn't happen either. We made it 5 minutes in the car before the discomfort and pain, I was trying to hide peeked out from behind the facade of my eagles jersey and fake smile. I didn't even get to watch said Eagles game. I passed out on the couch, only to wake up to see the end of the fourth quarter and Payton's world domination. So clearly I didn't miss much. I have friends in town visiting and I don't get to see them very often since I moved to Canada, and I can't even pull it together for an hour to get a quick visit in. Homework, nope. Bracelet making, I came close. I picked out the beads and then was exhausted. I can barely make it up a flight of stairs with out it committing me to my bedroom and la la land.

I officially hit the place, of being sick, where you forget what being healthy feels like. Two months. With one more month of radiation to go. I was so excited about being done chemo, and people were excited for me, but what people seem to forget is I still have to do radiation. Radiation is the source of all of the aforementioned side effects. The pain is not from chemo, its from the radiation. The nausea is from the pain, and from the radiation deteriorating my GI tract. Chemo was a baby step, radiation is my demon.

I wake up each day for radiation and can't call in sick. HA- I find this hilarious. I mean if it was school or work, or whatever, I'd call in sick feeling the way I do. But I have to shuttle my @$$ to radiation everyday. Thank goodness my mum or sis drive me or I wouldn't make it there.

All I can do successfully right now is lay in bed and watch Netflix. I can barely eat, it makes the situation much much worse for me. When I have those few shining moments of being able to eat, I embrace them with a vengeance.

I know I'm supposed to be focusing on getting better but in reality how does one do that? How can I do anything differently than I already am. I have no energy to do anything. All I can focus on is sleep. I feel like a terrible friend, losing touch with people whom I miss dearly. I can barely handle a phone convo some days. I feel like a terrible granddaughter. I just am mentally wiped.

However, I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Although it doesn't seem like it, I know I wont feel like this forever.

I'm angry at my body. In fact I hate it. If I thought I was self conscious before, now I'm on a whole other level. The best part is, I'm too tired to care, well almost.

I know I'm going to start feeling better. I know I'm going to have an amazing recovery. I know I'll be able to get back in to the gym, curse at my trainer for making me do squats but then get my perky tush back. I know I'm going to go back to work and love it. I know all these things will come, but its hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when I have a sleep mask on.

So where does that leave me today? Well, I have my mom keeping me afloat. I have Dexter who is by far the best man any woman can ask for. All he wants is approval, love, and food. He snuggles hard core and I love him. I have a few close friends who are rockstars, because when I don't have the energy to be the best of friends, they don't hold it against me. My sis, who YAY is back from her festival. STOP LEAVING BUTT HEAD lol. I've got this, I do. But I'm tired. As each day passes, so does another day that I could be living my life. Then again, I'm alive and shouldn't I be grateful for that? I'm being selfish, I know this. I need to be appreciative for what I have and not what I want. I need to be appreciative for being alive, having my fam and Dex instead of wanting to be the best at life.

Until then...