"The last of our human freedoms is to choose our attitude in any given circumstances". - Victor Frankl (survivor of the Nazi Death Camps)

Nov 30, 2014

So I haven't been on that shopping spree yet. I was waiting for my parents to get back from their cruise. It's not that I don't have anyone to go shopping with - I have lots of girlfriends who would love to help me do damage to my Visa. But this shopping trip will not be like any other.

I basically have a new body. That is a very strange thing to get overnight at my age (probably any age). Mentally I'm starting to be very OK with my new look. But going out shopping, though an exciting idea, is intimidating too. I need to go with someone who will be totally honest so I don't buy a bunch of stuff that does nothing for me, but also someone who will be as determined as me to find at least a few things. Who better but my mom??

Cause boy am I ever sick of button up shirts! Most of my clothes don't fit this new body right. Because I was short with big boobs and a small(ish) frame, it was all about v-necks for me.Well, now most of the v-necks are too low cut! If I wear them you can see my scars. NOT an option...

Because I was so busty, most of my t-shirts were also fitted. Was better to have them fitted then having fabric hang down from my boobs making me look bigger than I was with no shape. Well, some of those shirts  - like my chive ones - I still love, and they fit ok but without boobs it looks....strange. I look boxy and it just looks so odd to have no depth where my boobs once were. Or maybe I'm just not used to seeing nothing there...

Anyways, infinity scarves have become my new best friend while I await my mom's return. I have a blue one she bought me back in like Oct that actually works pretty good with t-shirts. It adds that "depth" that i was missing and kinda acts like my security blanket to an extent. I don't think I've left the house without it. (Although at home I don't wear scarves much, and even sometimes don't wear a shirt lol...ya, I'm getting pretty comfortable in my new skin.)

We also took most of my lingerie and all my bras and just put them aside for now. I need to go through them all at some point (well, not the bras lol) to see what still works. I put some of the bras in the hope chest Phil made when he was doing his journeyman ticket for Cabinet Making. Ha, gives whole new meaning to 'hope' 'chest' ha ha ha....I wanted them out of sight anyways. It was actually Phil's suggestion (I think cause he could see me look at them wistfully sometimes) Until I know what my reconstructed breasts will be like, I"m not getting rid of anything. I still have to go through my shirts and sweaters too but haven't had the chance...or the heart. It's a bit draining going through my clothes so I need time and the right mind frame to attempt it. And maybe wine....

Aside from having little to wear, I'm adjusting (well) to the new look. But it would still be nice to have the option of going out with boobs. So I made an appointment at Compassionate Beauty to get fitted for prosthetic boobs...Ya, I'm not too sure what it's all about either but I'll keep you posted! All I know is there are different kinds and it's not cheap. But for me it's like my wig - it's peace of mind that they are there if I need them. Cause the no boob novelty may wear off so I want to have a plan 'B' (ha or 'C').

Emily has been struggling with my lack of breasts. She doesn't like my scars but still asks to see them. This is the kind of thing I want to talk to the child psychologist about. She's asking some pretty detailed questions like "what tools did they use to chop your boobies off" (I still cringe when she says it that way). How can I answer her when I don't even know?? Why is my 5 1/2 year old asking me this kind of stuff? 

I'm a little worried about her to be honest...This week I found a library stamp in her bag. The kind they use to stamp due dates in books. She took it and brought it home from school. We had a chat about stealing and taking (and touching) things that don't belong to us. I told her she had to give it back otherwise we'd have to tell her teacher she took it. Kinda like a "get out of jail free card". She's never done anything like this before. So she brought it back.  Case closed...

Then on the weekend, we found some of her stuff marked up with black marker. Like her Frozen backpack. Her winter boots...So we decided to take her Frozen backpack away from her and give her just a plain one we had. We talked about taking care of our things and how if we destroy our things then maybe we are not old enough to have them. We told her it would be gone till after Christmas and maybe then she could get it back if she could show us she can take good care of her stuff (there were only a couple weeks left of school).

Then we found some toys marked up (next day). And a stuffie. My concern grew. We asked her to find the marker and give it to us (it was hidden in her room). The one she gave us is not from here. She took it from school. So we took her dollhouse out of her room as punishment and told her she'd have to earn it back with good behaviour. We also had her write an apology note to her teacher for taking the marker without asking.  We asked her repeatedly what was wrong or why she did it. But no answer. Just "I don't know". We want to nip this in the butt before more stuff comes home. I don't want the teachers to think she's a bad kid either,  this is not like her. But it's not acceptable behaviour, and she does know better.

At the same time there are seeds of doubt creeping in. Are we handling this right? What's going on in her lil head? This is the hard part. My heart wasn't in punishing her but she marked up alot of stuff - like 6 or 7 different things/spots. And it was after the whole talk about the boots and backpack. Ug. All the books and anyone you talk to says you need to keep boundaries and stay consistent - that canser does not mean there are no rules. But it's hard.

It happened to be Phil's birthday weekend as well. Thankfully we didn't find all the marked stuff till Saturday cause Friday we went to our favourite local pub - Kildare's - to meet up with Dave and friends. We had a really great time. Maybe not so much when Dave got Phil a shooter lol. But it felt like a normal, happy celebration. I like those moments of normalcy. We were just a bunch of friends enjoying some pints to celebrate. It was really nice. After all Phil's done I was happy he had a night to just relax and have a good time. I had arranged the sitter (Dave's daughter) and made the plan weeks prior. Although I honoured his request to not invite the whole world lol...If it had been up to me it would have been an Event. And half of Kildare's woulda been reserved lol.

Anyways, aside from the marker issue, the weekend was a good one. We went to a neighbours bday party. Rilay turned 4 and Emily and Ethan adore him. So they were very excited to go and celebrate. And eat cake lol. That night Phil and I went for wine tasting next door at Joe and Trista's. They won the bid at my fundraiser and it was donated by my friend Keri. She did a great job! Lots of laughs and Phil actually found a red wine he liked! Great night.

We are lucky to have such awesome neighbours. We must be lucky - our neighbours from our last house are the ones who came to BVJ with us this summer and are good friends of ours. (ie you're stuck with us Joe and Trista ;)







Today was Phil's birthday. We didn't do too much. Supper at Jack Astor's with the whole family. Bit chaotic as usual with the kids lol. But nice. I know the blog is now outta whack cause I posted his tribute on his bday and this will be posted once I'm all caught up...but such is life ha. 

Tomorrow is my radiation prep. I honestly haven't had much time to think (or over think) it. I'm happy my "don't fret about it till its happening" attitude I've developed on this road is holding true. My main 'concern' if you can even call it that is if the tattoos will hurt!! I should clarify by 'tatoos' that I mean 3 or 4 dot sized permanent tattoos that help them line up the radiation machines. They will be across my torso. I'll be like Phoebe from Friends when she gets the dot sized "Earth...it's just really really small earth". Ha

I've thought a few times in my life about getting a tattoo. Like when I was in Ireland and me, Jodi and Carolyn (who were living there) thought we should get 3 matching tattoos that would mean something and remind us of our time there...but I didn't cause I was too chicken of the pain lol. I'm not a big fan of pain...which probably sounds funny after going through 8 rounds of (intense) chemo and surgery....but, there it is. I'm just a wimp. Always have been, always will be I guess!

Kelly said it didn't hurt and the whole prep was quick. She's my 'go to girl' and hasn't been wrong yet, so maybe that's why I'm not too worried about it.

Tomorrow is also the radiation class at Tom Baker, which will explain what to expect etc. And then my Compassionate Beauty appointment. By the end of the day I'll have 3-4 new tattoos and fake boobs...and it's not even a mid life crisis! Should be an interesting day lol. 

Oh and we bought a Vitamix with some of the money raised at my Fundraiser...it's AMAZING!!

"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome". - Ane Bradstreet

Nov 19, 2014

Well I'm an idiot! I forgot to mention two other really important things discussed at my visit to BCSC. The first being that they have a specialised team that do breast canser follow up care. When I was asking Dr Taylor about the whole "no more oncologist" thing, and telling her how freaked out I was, she told me about this team. She said I could be followed if I chose, by this team of doctors and that they follow up on the whole person - not just the physical body. I could see a nutritionist (if I didn't already have my BFF taking care of me!!) as well as a psychologist for survivorship. There is also a course they offer that addresses survivorship issues but they only have a few spots so I put my name on the list but I won't know if I made it until they have dates settled. It's one Kelly wants to take as well. It would be amazing if we could take it together! I think the next one will start sometime in March.

The other thing discussed was my kids. Emmy & Ethan have been having a tough time since the surgery. Acting out. Ethan has even had a few nightmares. Those are definitely NOT fun. He wakes up screaming most of the time with tears flowing down his cheeks. I don't seem to be able to console him and it's heartbreaking to hold your child as they shake and cry. We have been trying to see if they are night terrors or nightmares but so far haven't been successful in figuring out which they are. Either way it sucks.

ALOT.



So I asked if BCSC had any child psychologists who could just evaluate them both to make sure they were doing OK and that me and Phil are addressing any issues the way we should be and any tips they might offer. Dr Taylor said they did but probably be into January for an appointment. Yikes. I put our name on the list.

So the specialised team I will be seeing for the next 5 years put my mind even more at ease. And knowing my kids would get looked at to make sure they were doing OK put my heart at ease.

The following Wednesday I got to finally meet with my Kinda Handsome surgeon. It was almost a month post Op and I felt relaxed and was looking forward to seeing him. Although this time I filled out my Thank You card ahead of time - expecting it to be my last visit.

I was pleasantly surprised.

First off-the first thing he asked was if I was told my results yet (pathology) from surgery. When he found out my oncologist had told me about the complete response the previous week, he was super disappointed. 

"I wanted to be the one to tell you. It's not often I get to deliver such good news".

He looked overjoyed! Which let me have another round of inner happy dancing.

Then more good news:

"So is this the last time I'll see you?"

"Nope, you're stuck with me probably till long after you're sick of me. You'll follow up with me for the next few years".

I think he made my (next) year with those words!

He said we could meet again in about 3 months to see how the plastic surgeon wait list was going. Ya, he put me on the wait list to meet a plastic surgeon for reconstruction!

"Where in the city do you live? What hospital is most convenient?"

"Wherever the best plastic surgeon lives. If you tell me he or she is in Red Deer, we'll go there".

He laughed and said there were a few really great ones and "Would he ever send you to anyone but the best?".

Do you see why he's so endearing? Although he did help to save my life, so he could probably say or do just about anything and I'd still think he was awesome lol.

The other thing he told me was I was Ok to pick up Ethan. Like literally pick Ethan up! He had been asking since surgery when I could pick him up again (I wasn't allowed to lift more than 5lbs until I got the surgeon's OK) and my heart ached every time he asked someone else in my presence to pick him up cause he'd wrap his little arms around them and give them a big ol Ethan hug that I love.  I don't know who missed it more -  me or him. I was also given the green light to get back to Zumba, as I felt up to it...All systems go!

After a Thank You hug and more blushing (him) when I mentioned my blog and my "Kinda Handsome surgeon" he asked if I would be open to him passing on my contact info for future patients that he thought could benefit from being in touch with me. I think he meant my positive attitude etc so of course I told him no problem. My oncologist nurse actually had asked me the same thing - I was touched. When my nurse navigator Edith heard he asked me that she said "wow that's not something he usually does" so it made me feel a little like I must be handling things ok - even if the odd time I've cried when up there lol.

So we left his office and I was giddy. 

He's going to follow me.

I'm not losing Team Guardian Angel. It's just changing.

I'm very good with that.

PS When I told Ethan that the doctor said I could pick him up his whole face lit up and he's asked me to pick him up at least once a day since. I in turn am grateful that I can pick him up and cherish each time he's in my arms giving me that fierce hug I have missed so much....

Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and The Waves (YouTube)

"All adventures, especially into new territory, are scary." - Sally Ride

Nov 15, 2014

So there we were. We got home from my apparently last oncologist appointment trying to process the 2 big pieces of information we were told. Every time I thought about the complete response, I was a bit in awe. Like this mythical thing happened to me. But it was immediately followed by the other piece of news of essentially losing part of Team Guardian Angel. Not expecting it made it worse.

If you haven't had canser, you likely won't really understand how devastating news like this can be. I know it must seem so strange that I'm not celebrating having 1 less doctor in my life considering I still have the rest of the team. But here's the thing...a complete response may be the best case for chemo. It is what they hope for going in. But it does not mean that it puts me at zero chance of re-occurrence...

Ah, re-occurence. That is like a four letter word in the canser world. I have not met one person who's gone through this journey who doesn't or hasn't feared re-occurrence. That's the thing with canser - you can be considered "canser free" but there's always a chance it can come back. And it's not it coming back in of itself that people seem to fear (at least that's not what keeps me up at night). It's if it comes back metastasised. When canser comes back metastasised there is no getting rid of it....most people live with it for the rest of their life - on treatment - and it's what ends up killing them. There's no padding that fact. For breast canser it likes to come back metastasised to lovely parts like bones, brain and lungs (other parts too but these are "common").

Last I checked, you need all those parts - they play a pretty important role in living....

If I am showing no signs of canser, how could my breast canser come back given I removed my breasts? This happens when during your original treatment a rogue breakaway cell isn't killed by any of your treatments (and it's too small to see) and travels to another part of your body and sorta hides there and grows. It can take years for it to "announce" itself again. But the chance is highest in the first 5 years. Once you pass 5 years, your risk significantly drops (but not to zero). Everyone I know in the canser world sees or saw their oncologist for this 5 year higher risk period. Why not a family doctor you ask? Because many of them are not trained to know what to look for and many don't want to b e responsible for detecting canser (since it's not their speciality - nice having a disease that even the doctors are leery of eh??)

Add to the fact that I don't even have a family doctor, and maybe it makes more sense why I was so upset.

And of course there's the question of genetics that comes into play with regard to my mind frame when processing the "no oncologist" info. My Dad had canser at 35. His mom had ovarian canser in her 60's - which did you know ovarian canser is a sister canser to breast canser? Ya, they are linked. If you are carrying the BRAC1 or BRAC2 gene mutation your risk increases significantly for breast or ovarian canser. Because there's 3 generations in a row with canser in my family, combined with how young I am (and my Dad was) AND that's it's triple negative, there is a chance it could be genetic. My oncologist sent in a referral to the genetics clinic after recommending I get tested. I haven't been yet but I am on the list to meet with geneticists in 6-12 months. I am not sure how genetics play a role in re-occurrence of the same canser (ie that affects chances of re-occurrence) nor do I want to know stats. But if I have the mutation, then I would definitely be at high risk for other cansers (I believe there's others aside from ovarian but I haven't done too much reading on this yet...)Anyways, I am not trying to depress the shit out of everyone, but having all this info in your head when being told "say bye to one of the best people to spot canser" doesn't exactly make you jump for joy. 

It scared me.

My Radiation Oncologist Dr Trotter called that night. She wanted to see how I was doing post surgery. She also heard about the complete response and was calling to say she still recommended radiation, even if complete response drops my chances of re-occurrence to 15% (I really didn't need or want to know the stats but she is all stats when it comes to explaining things...) I trust my team, so I am following her recommendation. She decided to schedule my radiation prep CT scan for Dec 1. Radiation will start Dec 29. Gulp. But at least I get a nice break through Christmas. And now I had a date to work towards to get back full arm movement. By Dec 1 I would have to be able to put my arms above my head. At this point I could only put them partially back and was doing arm exercises multiple times a day to help get back the full range of movement.

After I got off the phone with Dr Trotter I started wondering what exactly a full response meant. If I still needed radiation, did it really change anything?

Up to this point, no one from the medical community seemed overly excited about the news. Neither Dr Trotter or my oncologist say much about it other than "yes, it's good news". Was I making a bigger deal out of it then it was?

And then I got a message from Nigel - my Mall Angels' fearless leader, who happens to be a canser researcher! - that emanated pure joy at my news. And with his words, hope once again bloomed in my heart:

"...from my reading of the literature, the fact that you had CPR (complete pathologic response) basically cancels out the negative impact of being triple negative. It still all comes down to probability and statistics so nothing is ever certain (and I'm just a researcher not a physician!) but the odds have been swung dramatically in your favour by your response to chemo. Sooooo happy for you!!".

His message couldn't have been better timed if he tried.

That Thursday I met with Dr Taylor (from Breast canser Supportive Care) and when I told her the news, her whole face lit up and she gave both Phil and I hugs, "cause that kind of news deserves a hug". Her and Nigel were the first in the medical community to really seem to think this was news worth celebrating. It truly helped to put my mind at ease that it may have a positive impact on my future. Dr Taylor also further explained the need for radiation which really made me feel good about my decision to still do it. 

She basically explained that since there are only 3 treatments for triple negative - chemo, surgery and radiation - it would make sense that if research showed benefit of radiation that the docs would want to encourage me to do it since there is no hormone treatment to help keep the canser from coming back. They would want to use everything in their arsenal. It would probably be a different story if my lymph nodes were negative right off the bat - but they know for sure at least 2 were positive for canser. Plus given they didn't go in and remove a huge clump (15-30) I'd rather be safe than sorry. 

So between that reassurance and her also agreeing with what Nigel said, I left BCSC feeling very happy and at peace. Then Judit - a friend who is living with metastic breast canser (it came back 2 years after treatment) wrote me a happy note about what a blessing that news was.

Well, the 3 of them were able to fill me and Phil back up with joy and really enjoy this small victory. And it's not that I didn't appreciate any of the happy comments from family and friends previously....it's just hearing it from those who are so educated about how awful canser is and who are well aware of the re-occurrence issues and are up to speed on all the latest research, it was the "confirmation" I guess was looking for.

It was still a few more nights before we could celebrate with my favourite Guinness since I was still on antibiotics...

But finally, Saturday Nov 15, almost a month past surgery, were were able to toast to all the good news. 

Surgery was done.

Infection gone.

canser obliterated.

As I posted on Facebook:

" Victory never tasted so good...."

"Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny" - C.S. Lewis

Nov 10, 2014

We had to re-book my oncologist appointment because of our clinic visits from The Infection. We weren't too sure why my oncologist had booked an appointment other than just to check in. It was just past 2 weeks since surgery and we hadn't yet been to see my surgeon. I had no idea what the pathology said, but for once I comforted myself with the fact that a late call is probably a good thing versus an early one. My last "early results" call resulted in my diagnosis...

I have to say I was surprised they wanted blood work prior to my oncologist meeting but at the same time I was glad that there would be some sort of check that all my counts were where they should be post surgery and being on the mend from the Infection.

As we pulled into the Tom Baker parking lot, I mused aloud to Phil how strange it was that we should be so familiar with a hospital. We have spent countless hours up there the last few months but I still have moments of "this is so surreal that this place is like my 2nd home. I'm 36. And it's a hospital....". I guess you get used to just about anything when you do it often enough.

We can even distinguish between the veterans and rookies in this world. It's only been a few months but sometimes it feels likes I'm decades older from my experiences. My views on life and death are probably more akin to those of seniors than my own peers. When you have your first child, the world is never the same again. Suddenly it seems alot scarier than pre-kids. You worry more about the future, and if it will be good for them. 

canser has been similar for me. It robbed me of my "life innocence". That expectation that tomorrow will always come. The taking health for granted way of living that most of my healthy peers likely live each day. 'Knowing' you will be at your kids weddings. That you'll get to hold your grandchildren. 

My mortality reminder started the day I found the lump. And has never left.

It's not all bad though - it's made me cherish the good memories even more. I try to slow down more than I did before. I look at my kids every day with wonder, and so much love it's almost heartbreaking. I am thankful every, single day. And I feel things more - fear is sharper, happiness is bubblier, sadness is heart wrenching, gratefulness is all consuming...It can be a little overwhelming at times, but it's worth it for the way I feel in those unbelievably happy moments - the moments of pure joy.

I was about to have one of those moments, but didn't know it. 

We got blood work done - man was it busy that Monday!! Then we went and sat and waited for my oncologist. They do the blood work 'stat' so it gets rushed back to your doc within 1-1.5hrs after you get it done. 

Trish - my nurse - weighed me. While I was on the scale I said "Man, we forgot to get an 'after' weight post surgery. I'm curious how much 'the girls' weighed. I have people thinking like 10lbs! I should take bets...."

I couldn't remember how much I weighed pre surgery so she went to check. She came back a short while later.

"7lb difference pre and post surgery".

7lbs??? Holy cow!! Well that was the fastest way ever to lose that much weight....

She also told us the pathology was in. My oncologist would go over it with me since I had not met with my surgeon yet. 

While we waited for Dr Stewart to come in, I was initially excited to get the pathology back. But the longer we sat there, the more my thoughts wandered. What if there's canser left? What if some of the other lymph nodes had canser still? Will that mean more surgery?

Up till that point it had not occurred to me that there might still be canser left. 

Suddenly I was nervous. How would I feel if they told me there was still canser? I had no idea cause I had never considered it. 

In walked Dr Schoenroth, the lady who works with Dr Stewart. 

"So I have your results from the pathology. .."

Here goes nothing....

"Well, everything came back negative...blah blah blah...."



All negative? Did I hear her right? Doesn't that mean......

"So a complete response? Are you saying I had a complete response to chemo? There's no canser left? At all??".

"...yes, you had a complete response to chemo. Negative for all lymph nodes removed, negative for left breast tissue, and negative for right breast tissue...."

She probably kept talking, but in that moment it was like the weight of the world (that I didn't realise I was carrying) was lifted off my shoulders. It was like all the happiness filled my heart so that it felt like it was going to burst. Like I was floating on air. Could it really be?...this only happens 25% of the time...and it happened to me???

As I was still floating in a haze of joy, a few minutes later she said:

"...so this will be your last meeting with us..."

And just like that, she burst my bubble.

"What?".

The haze was gone and she was in sharp focus. My heart may have even stopped beating for a moment. It felt like my whole world had just been tilted on its axis and I wasn't holding onto anything. 

It caught me completely off guard.

"You'll go back now for check ups at your family doctor every 6 months..."

Family doctor? What? 6 months? She must mean 3 months...you 'graduate' to 6 months, everyone  knows that...she must be mixed up...

"I don't have a family doctor" was all I managed to say.

"Oh then there is a clinic run via Tom Baker by a nurse practitioner who does canser follow up appointments. She's quite passionate about it."

Nurse? What about the 5 year plan? Isn't my oncologist supposed to be with me till I hit 5 years?

"Is this new? I know others going through treatment and they follow up with their oncologist. I don't understand. 6 months? I don't feel comfortable with 6 months - isn't it supposed to start with 3 months? I can already see the light at the end of the treatment tunnel and it's making me nervous. 6 months without a check up freaks me out. I'll be a basket case by then."

"No, this policy has been like this for years. Only people with a special reason keep seeing their oncologist (I was thinking "I must know ALOT of special cases..." but I didn't say anything) What if we book you into the clinic in 3 months for a follow up?".

"Ok..." 

What else could I say? My head was spinning. You hear how tough it is once you are done treatments with survivorship issues and I'm not even going to see my oncologist anymore. My safety net was removed in a blink of an eye and I wasn't even finished my act.

I didn't even bring a Thank You card cause I had no idea this would be our last meeting. I didn't get to see Dr Stewart. I couldn't even shake the hand of one of the men who helped to save my life.

This completely tempered the good news of the complete response.

We left feeling less buoyed and more deflated.

I tried really hard to get the joy back by sharing the complete response news on Facebook. I shared it with my One Aimers too. But the excitement with sharing the news was sheer bravado on my part. 

I was still reeling from the fact that that was my last oncologist appointment...

"Don't give up! It's not over. The universe is balanced. Every set-back bears with it the seeds of a come-back". - Dr. Steve Maraboli

Nov 9, 2014 (still catching up...)

Suffice it to say the week was rough while I was dealing with The Aftermath (and the infection). So thank God my father in law Randy was with me.

He got me out for a walk everyday. That helped enormously. I could have just finished crying when he showed up in the morning - usually with a mocha for me in hand - and we kept so busy during the day that I'd be good till he left to go get the kids. It was like the eye of the storm during the hours between 9-5 while he was with me. Relatively calm and my spirits would be up. It was any alone time that would result in tears.

So really, a cry in the morning, and one in the evening (sometimes again in bed) isn't all that bad considering what a low point I was at. You could almost say it was good for the soul to get it all out. A (much needed?) release.

Wednesday I had my appointment at the clinic to see how I was doing and hopefully get the IV out. It was finally getting to be "emotionally unbearable" cause it limited me so much (the IV was in my hand so I had to be very careful and gentle that it didn't get pulled out or get irritated). It was also a constant visual reminder that I was 'sick' which was far from comforting. The canser was finally physically removed from my body (from surgery) so I should've been on the mend. Not slowed down - which is how I felt.

My wonderful father in law showed up Wednesday morning with my favourite car - his grey mustang. I love that car so I had a good morning, excited to get to go to my appointment in style. Course that's more than I could say for my 'look' with the fanny pack they gave me to carry around the IV machine.

"Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful". lol

I was also pumped cause I was going to finally be tube free!! No foreign objects attached or stuck in me. The day I got my last drain out, I had to trade it in for an IV tube. I was itching to get it out. The thought of showering without a bag on my arm (to protect the IV site) or with anything else that cramped my showering style was enough to make me giddy.

We got to the hospital and I had to stop myself from running to the clinic. The few hours before vacation are always the longest and most torturous. That's how I felt walking to the clinic. Then waiting for the doctor. It was almost painful ha.

Randy left the room while I was checked over.

"Looks good. We'll give you 10 days of oral antibiotics, same as the IV, only in pill form. If anything changes come back."

Ok.

My nurse (same as each clinic visit) came and took out the IV. I really wanted to do a celebratory dance I was so happy...almost manic happy!

No more tubes, no more fanny packs, no more red patch - it was time to celebrate! Given it was 11Am and I was on antibiotics, booze was not a good option. So we got celebratory mochas instead! One more hurdle behind me. That mocha was heaven. It was great sharing that happy moment with Randy.

The rest of the week we continued to go for our daily walk. Did some errands. I even made some kick ass, mostly organic, pasta sauce. Although it was still tough the few moments I was alone, the IV removal gave me a kick, and I think I started back on an upwards wave... except maybe for the emotions I was feeling about my sense of self. But by the weekend that was improving too.

I am so incredibly thankful Randy took that time off. It helped in ways I didn't realise until I looked back. It reminded me once again how lucky I am to be so loved and have such incredibly selfless people in my life.

Thanks Randy!