Backslide

I've been taking stock of my life for the last few days.

I'm going back to work in a week and a half and I've been feeling ugh about it. I've been worrying about what I'm going back to (the clutter and chaos).

I've been thinking a lot about my weight. I'm so unhappy with myself. I've reached yet another weight milestone (not a good one) and while I know the answer is simple - stop eating so damn much - putting that into practice is something else.  I want so desperately to go back to the gym but until my surgery is complete and I've fully healed, I can't. That's still a long way off.

It occurred to me today that I'm feeling this way because I haven't been at work for 4 months. I am bored. I am stagnant. I am wasting away.

I've felt like this before....back when I had chemo. I hated not being at work, not necessarily because I love my job oh so much (I do, but that's not it)   It's because I had a purpose. I had something to do outside of my family.

And here I am again. A backslide.

It occurred to me today that I've spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. Poor me, I had cancer. Poor me, I had a failed reconstruction surgery. Poor me, I'm fat. Poor me, I'm bored.

But I'm alive.

It then the epiphany came.

I'm alive and I'm wasting my second chance. I'm sitting here on my ever growing ass waiting for things to happen so that I can wait for things to happen.

Well, that has got to change. I read a thing in a magazine the other day that said something like "be grateful you can still move" 

I've been given a second chance and I'm fucking it up in the largest way imaginable. I've wasted the last three years.

Today is a new day. I'm going to waste my life anymore. I'm going to do things. It might not be something big everyday. Maybe I'll cook something new. Maybe I'll take a walk. Maybe I'll get excited about going to work again.

 But no matter what it is, I've got to stop sitting around here watching my second chance pass me by. I got to keep on living - so I need to keep on living.

So what did I do today?

I found something on Pinterest that I liked so I did it.

We've been painting our main floor. We went from a green and a yellow that I loved but have since worn out their welcome to an off white (French Vanilla) I love it. It looks so clean and new. (Of course, with three children it won't look that way for long. Thankfully the walls are pretty washable.

Anyway, now that everything it painted its time to rehang the pictures - the same ones that have been on the walls since we moved in over 12 years ago.

And when I saw this on Pinterest I had to do it. So here it is, my hallway.

The sayings in between the pictures of my kidlets are both from Dr. Seuss.

"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive that is youer than you!"
and
"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird and when we find someone who's weirdness is compatible with ours we join up with them in mutual weirdness and call it love"

See, I thought about having professional pictures done of the kids and the family all together. I even tried my own, of the kids together and smiling nicely.

That is so not us!

We are that family that bunny ears people in photos. Or makes a face. Or crosses eyes.

And so I celebrated that by taking pictures of my children in their natural state - being themselves. My oldest wrapped up in a blanket staring at her iPhone. My middle one upside down doing an handstand and my little guy making the silliest pose he could think of, that is not at all silly which makes it that much more awesome.

Because that's who they are.

Okay, enough blogging.

Instead of driving to get my little people from school I'm gonna walk.

Because I have to start moving forward.

I'm Not Eating That!

I love tax season. Say what you will but I love it because I always get a refund and between Sean and I it's usually enough to go for a nice dinner out and then use the rest for bills or a major purchase we've been holding off on. (Last year was my super comfy mattress)

This year we decided to take the family out to dinner at the Mandarin (a Chinese buffet restaurant) For the uninitiated it's not just Chinese food (which is great because I'm not a fan of Chinese food) it's got everything. I mean everything.

Earlier in the week Emily went to the Mandarin with her two bff's for dinner and when she came home she told me after they'd finished eating one of her friends suggested a game. Each of them would go to the buffet and make a plate for one of the others with three of the grossest things they could find. The challenge was to see if you could eat what was given to you.

Now you must know, I'm that kind of person who welcomes the chance to make my husband and children gag. No kidding, it's funny as hell.  So we decided it would be fun to play that game too. The rules were simple. You had to eat one full bite of each item on the plate. If you didn't, you didn't get dessert.  To make it fair we drew names out of a hat.

It's easy to do this on the kids - they are so picky that just about everything in the buffet that isn't pizza or noodles makes the gag. Emily got a deviled egg, raw broccoli in some kind of white sauce and a piece of cuttlefish. She managed to get it all down. Mary had cuttlefish, an oyster and a mushroom. Amazingly she did it too. (Mary is not at all adventurous with food) We didn't make Connor play. My mom got seaweed salad, an oyster and something else I can't remember.

Then it was me and Sean. I had his name and he had mine. The problem is Sean will try anything once and likes just about everything he eats.

Lucky for me he had some curry chicken and didn't like the particular curry they used so naturally I got him some of that. But I had a hard time finding something else. He loves seafood so cuttlefish and oysters were not going to do it. So I go seaweed salad for him - solely because the seaweed was shredded along with shredded carrots so it kind of looked slimy and wormlike. You know on shows like Survivor when they have to eat things like meal worms or grubs - yeah, he can't even look at the tv without gagging. I also got him cottage cheese. He loves cheese but again, it's the texture I was hoping would work in my favor.

Success - he hated everything I got him! He choked it down but he hated it all.

But then it was my turn. Here's the thing. I'll also try anything once. But there are things in the buffet that I absolutely know I can not eat and I was sure he was going to go right for them. Oysters being the big one. I've had one - once. Forget the slimy texture - I can't get past how it looks. It looks like a vagina - clitoris and all. Vagina's are not attractive - not in the tiniest bit.

But my husband loves me. Either that or he didn't think of bringing me one because instead he chose the biggest - nastiest olive (I HATE olives - even the smell is nauseating) and a cuttlefish (which is like a tiny little squid.) Lucky for me I don't mind squid. It's like chewing a tire but it's doesn't have a taste. The olive on the other hand. I thought I was going to lose my supper. And because I married the greatest man alive, my third thing was a macaroon. Not because I hate them but because he loves me.

So we all choked down our nasty plates and headed for the dessert buffet.

The funniest thing about the whole event was that my children ate all that nasty stuff so that they could get dessert - but they both gave up chocolate for Lent which really limited what they could take from the dessert buffet and being the picky eaters they are, they were pretty well left with ice cream. So it wasn't even worth it for them! Bahahahaha.

Yeah, I'm that mother - the one who laughs at her children's misfortunes.

This Time I'm Doing It Right.

Back when I had cancer I spent a lot of time whining and complaining about not being able to work. I missed being at work and was bored. I started doing a lot of crafty type stuff but the truth was I was bored.

Then I went back to work and regretted every minute of it for the last 3 months of that school year.

When I knew I'd be off work for 8 weeks with the surgery I had in January I swore to myself that I would not complain about being bored. That time off would be my reward for having made it through and this would be my time to just be.

I whined. I even worked a bit.

Then I got that fabulous advice from my principal and I'm here to tell you, I've taken that advice and run with it.

I'll admit I do check my work email daily BUT.....I am not working. I am not planning. I am not doing the newsletter. I am not even thinking about work.

This is a stretch for me. I'm a workaholic. But this time I'm doing it right.

I am off work until April 22nd and I intend to be off work until April 22nd. I'm going to relax. I'm going to heal. I'm going to write. I'm going to craft. I'm going to plan for my summer vacation (we're trying to get a Pumpkin Patch get together arranged for this summer and I couldn't be more excited!)

I'm taking care of me.

And I'm loving every minute of it!!

Nothing Worth It Is Ever Easy

I've lived a pretty charmed life. Really, I have.

I didn't grow up rich, quite the opposite in fact. I didn't get everything I wanted. (though I did get everything I needed) 

I didn't have a lot of friends growing up, a few close ones but I was also bullied. Elementary school holds a lot of terrible memories. High school was much better but I'd never go back.

And yet, I feel like I've lived a charmed life. I have my dream job, my husband who I love with all my heart, three perfect children and some amazing friends and family.

But nothing in my life has ever been easy.

I got diagnosed with cancer at 37 years old, on the youngish side by breast cancer standards. I was one of the >1% who had occult breast cancer. Lucky me! Not only do I get breast cancer but I get an ridiculously rare one that makes diagnosis and treatment tricky. Thank God for my amazing team of doctors.

I made the decision to have breast reconstruction because, while I could have lived the rest of my life with one breast (and probably quite happily), healing from cancer isn't just physical, it's mental too and for me, I needed to feel physically whole in order to heal mentally. I want to look in the mirror and see two breasts. More importantly (as trivial as this sounds) I want to look down and see cleavage.

So I made the decision, despite my fear of surgery, my worst of which being I'd die on the table and leave me kids wondering why their mother opted to do something so vain  - something that ended up taking their mother away from them when they were mere babies. Yes, my oldest is 14 but she's still a baby in the grand scheme of things and still needs her mother.

But again, nothing for me can ever be easy.

After my first surgery I questioned why I'd even done it. I felt horrible, I was in pain and dealing with other demons. But it got better and once the doctor started to fill my expander and my new breast began to take shape, as it were, I started to feel really happy about my decision.

One month ago I had the second part of my surgery, the take out the expander, replace it with a silicone implant and reduce my left breast to match the new one.  And as you can see from my previous post, I was so happy with the results. I have the boobs of a 20 year old.

But remember, nothing for me is every easy and so, I had complications. First, an infection at the drain sight. Remarkably in all my surgeries this was my first infection. But it scared me nonetheless.

And then, a small purplish black bump appeared on the side of my new breast. Small at first and then it grew. Naturally it appeared after I'd been released from weekly visits with the Dr. I wasn't supposed to see him again until March. But this thing was big and ugly and scary looking. So I called him and went to see him.

So here's my diagram of what happened.

Now, my diagram is a little oversimplified but it will all make sense in a second. See, the flap is the muscle and tissue that the doctor took from my back and brought forward to build a new breast. But that brown part should be totally enclosed, a full circle to encapsulate the implant. But in my case part of the flap failed (separated) as shown in the nifty diagram so now the only thing separating my implant from the world is a paper thin layer of skin. The big purplish black bump was fluid that my body would have otherwise absorbed taking the path of least resistance and pushing the skin out.
The doctor stuck me with a giant needle and drained a lot of the fluid but it just collected again. And the thing is, skin wears.  We shed layers of it in small doses everyday. Eventually that paper thin layer of skin would wear away and expose my implant opening me up for infections and a new world of surgeries.

So, we're beating it to the punch.

I get to have more surgery. Soon. Like in a couple of weeks. Yay me. (this would be a great time for a sarcasm font) The doctor is going to take out the implant, fix the flap and either replace the implant, put a smaller implant in or put a new expander in. By the way he talked today he's leaning toward a new expander. Which means another surgery will follow in a few months to put a new implant in. He'll make the final decision in the operating room.

I've had time to process this now. I had my moment of tears, anger, regret, anger, tears and more anger.

Now I'm resigned to it.  I'm frustrated because it means more time off work, it means my summer plans are all shot to hell and it means I'm living in medical limbo for another several months. It means more stress to my family. It means more stress to me. It means a whole lot more fear for me. The same fears I faced when I got diagnosed with cancer. The same fears I've faced each and every time I lay down on the operating table and cry, praying that God will let me wake up again to see my children.

I hate this. I really, really do. But I've learned that your cancer journey isn't over the day you get your 'no evidence of disease' report. It's not over after your hair grows back and your memory returns. It's not over when your scars heal.

I am not whole again yet and my journey won't be over until I am.

One of my first thoughts, after my family,  when my doctor told me I'd be having surgery again was about my job. I love my job, passionately. And I miss it. But this time is different. Because while I am angry that I will be missing more time and worried that I'll lose my position in my school and get stuck in a school I hate and wondering what my colleagues are thinking (or saying), I'm reminded of something.

I'm here. I'm alive. I got to spend the last three years with my kids and my husband and my friends and family. I might be am replaceable at work. No matter how good you are at your job, everyone is replaceable at their jobs. But I am not replaceable to my family and friends. And my life is important to me. I want to live it happily and to the fullest and for me to be able to put cancer behind me I need to feel physically whole.

So as much as it sucks ass.....I'm going under the knife again. Lucky me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's Thanksgiving weekend for us Canadian folks. The time of year when we gorge on turkey and stuffing, make nice with our families and unbutton our pants while the tryptophan washes over us and puts us to sleep. (Alright, that's actually a myth. Turkey has less tryptophan than many other commonly eaten food, egg white, for instance. The post turkey day drowsiness is more likely caused by over eating, alcohol and the work up to the whole ordeal.)

Thanksgiving has not traditionally been a big deal around our house. For about the last 10 years we've celebrated it some years and others not so much. Since we're not farmers and don't need to celebrate a bountiful harvest we choose to be thankful every single day of the year for the gifts we've been blessed with instead of focusing all that thanks on one day.

But this year we're doing the whole turkey thing.

No, wait. I'M doing the whole turkey thing.

See, something occurred to me. I'm 40 years old and I've NEVER cooked a large family dinner. This would be because in all the years of Christmas', Thanksgivings,  and Easters dinner has been handled by either Sean or my mom. And though I try to help I get shooed out of the kitchen. And then I get stuck with the dishes later. Lucky me.

So this year I put my foot down and said I'm cooking dinner. All of it. (Okay, not the peas pudding because that should be left to the experts so my brother in law will take care of that for me)  I'm cooking the turkey, potato, sweet potato, broccoli, carrots, cabbage, brussel spouts, gravy and stuffing. Me.

Shit.

Wish me luck!!

And for all of my Canadian readers....Happy Thanksgiving.

For all of my American readers....happy Sunday. 

A New Me.

I'm sure I offered a money back guarantee in my last post...but only if this post wasn't interesting. Well folks, get ready to be interested.....

School has been in for going on 5 weeks now and I've got to say this is by far the best year I've had. I don't want to jinx it - it is still early and we've got 9 more months of it to go but my class this year is amazing, even with a few kids who need that little extra love. My partner and I are working like a well oiled machine, which for those of you who are keeping track will know, is huge.

You see, I've done some soul searching since my last ramble. I've not been happy with the person I was becoming. I found it incredibly strange that I was a happier person when I was fighting cancer than I was just a few weeks ago, perfectly healthy. How can that be? How was I happier when I was hairless, in pain, addicted to Percocet and scared I wouldn't live?

I don't know. Frankly I have no answer for that question. Maybe it was the Percocet? Maybe it was that my fear that I would not live had me trying my best to really live. Maybe it was because I felt I had a purpose....to fight to live.

And yet, now, I have my dream job, my perfect children, my amazing husband, a supportive family and good health and a new boob and yet I'm a miserable sucky bitch. I felt sorry for myself because my 40th birthday came and went without much ado. I was really looking forward to my 40th. A HUGE milestone in my eyes, not just because it was 40 but because I made it to 40. For a while I wasn't sure I would. But it went by, almost like any other day. I had a small get together a week later with my brothers and in-laws but timing was off and finding a date in which everyone I love could come was hard. I think it's still a bit of a sore spot with me.

But one day I just decided to change my attitude. I'm not going to bitch and complain about the shitty aspects of my job, I'm going to embrace the challenges of it. I'm not going to think about what cancer took from me, I'm going to think about what it gave me. I'm not going to feel sorry for myself because my ass continues to spread, I'm going to get off the fat thing, go back to the gym and try to lose this fucking weight.

I feel lighter now. I feel less stressed. I feel less angry. I am excited about life.

This past July, before my surgery we went to Florida. I can't believe I didn't write about this before.

None of us have ever been there. A friend of ours was so generous in letting us use her timeshare down there so we packed up the van and the kids and we set off on an adventure. We spent 4 days driving, stopping in each State along the way to take pictures, get souvenirs and sleep. And then we spent 7 glorious days in Florida, soaking up the sun, visiting Universal Orlando (the kids weren't interested in going to Disney) going on a swamp boat ride, eating alligator, and I even got to scratch another PP mom off my list of people to hug in real life.

On the way home we stopped in Georgia for a couple of days to visit my Aunt and Uncle and saw went to the Georgia Aquarium.

We went places and did things we've never done before - as a family. We had fun. There was no bickering or complaining. We relaxed....truly relaxed for the first time in 2 years.

When I'm starting to feel the stresses of my life piling up on me I think about that trip, about sitting out on the balcony at night, listening to the strange bird noises and frogs. I think about how much I loved our after dinner swims. I think about how exciting the swamp boat ride was and how beautiful the scenery was. And how free I felt.

And then I remember - there is no reason I shouldn't feel like that Every. Single. Day.

And so, the new me is here. Now don't go thinking I'm going to be all rainbows and lollipops. There will be no unicorns flying out of my ass but I know what's important. And it's time to be happy.

And just for those of you who aren't friends of mine on FB....here's some of my more favorite pics from our trip to Florida.


This was the view from the dock leading to the swamp boat tour. We did ours with a company called Wild Florida Airboats. They were AMAZING and if you're going to Orlando I highly recommend them.

This was scenic lookout in Virginia (or possibly West Virginia - I don't remember which)

This was at the Georgia Aquarium.

This was also at the swamp boat place. I loved the cypress trees.

Not a bad pic for an iPhone huh? It's that scenic lookout again.

So Here's the Skinny

I'm feeling a bit more like myself this evening so I thought it might be a good time to share what's been going on.

On Tuesday I had the first step in the Latissimus Dorsi Tissue Flap Breast Reconstruction. Long story short the Dr took muscle and tissue from my back, moved it forward to reconstruct a breast and he put in a tissue expander underneath it all.

So right now I'm like a b cup. In two weeks time he'll start filling the expander with saline and he'll do that once a week for about a month. This will stretch the skin and muscle in the area to be the proper size. (A large C or small D) 

Once that's been done it's going to just sit like that and settle. Skin stretches and sags and everything needs to be settled into place before we can proceed.

So about 3 months from now I'll have another surgery, which will involve taking out the tissue expander and replacing it with an implant. He'll also do a reduction and lift on my left breast to make everything even.

For the most part I'm feeling okay. I'm sore as hell in both my chest and my back but mostly it's because the Dr stressed to me that I could not put pressure on the side of the new breast - I need to allow for the new blood supply to heal and establish properly because if not the tissue will turn black and die.

That means I can not sleep on my side (right side for obvious reasons but I can't sleep on my left side either because my arm would rest on the side of my breast cutting off the blood supply.) So I can only sleep on my back. I don't like sleeping on my back and what's more because of the incisions on my back it's not really that comfortable.

I'm also favoring the arm when I'm sitting up and walking, making sure it's not resting on my side so I'm thinking by the time I'm allowed to put it down (about 2 weeks) my right shoulder will look like Carrot Top's.  (Sean and I ran into him in Vegas a few years ago, he's even freakier looking in real life)

 

 

I'm sure I'm being overly cautious but let's face it, I'm one of those people who has that shitty kind of luck.

 

 

Anyhow, I've gone through a stage of depression. I've questioned why I did it. Mostly when I'm uncomfortable and in pain. I'm on preventative antibiotics and they are making me sick to my stomach. I've developed an aversion to water again, completely psychological of course, but it's there none the less.

 

And I worry that this is going to take more than I thought it would..

 

But them I'm reminded of my dear friend Amy, who did this, not once but twice, two boobs. She's been down this road and today she's smiling and happy and living her life. I can do that too. It might be shitty and painful and uncomfortable for a while but it will get better. And I'm going to celebrate by buying myself a cute little dress for Christmas that shows my brand new cleavage!! 

Parents of the Year

I don't know what reminded me of this story but I thought I'd share it. It's the story of when Sean and I were parents of the year.

Emily was about 3. She was sweet and innocent and excited about everything the world had to offer.

We took her to a place called Storybook Gardens. It's a little park, obviously with a storybook theme.

I'll be honest, besides the climber and the little splash pad I don't remember much about the place.

Throughout the park there are character statues.  One in particular was a frog with a crown on his head (the Frog Prince, duh!)

It is, in fact, this very statue.

Emily was having a lot of fun, running around, looking at everything, climbing on statues and having a grand old time.

We pointed out the Frog Prince statue to her and said she should go up and say hi to it.

Emily, in all her cuteness ran up to the frog prince statue, stood right in front of him and smiled, the biggest, sweetest, most innocent 3 year old smile you ever saw.

And then we discovered that the Frog Prince was a sprinkler because out of his mouth shot a stream of water - right into Emily's face.

And yet, while Emily sputtered and cried, Sean and I doubled over, laughing. Hysterically. To the point that other parents with their children were looking at us, and judging us as we laughed at our child rather than comforting her .

10 years later I can't think of this visit to Storybook Gardens without laughing - hard. I can still see Emily's sweet face, smiling up at that frog, so innocent and pure and then getting a face full of water. The shock on her face was priceless.

Not to worry dear readers. Emily is not scarred. Well, at least not by the actual Frog Prince incident. Sean and I still laughing at her.....well, she may need therapy for that one day.

****No, in fact, I know she's going to need therapy. I just called her in to see the picture of the Frog Prince that I found. I asked her if she recognized it and Sean squirted her in the face with a water bottle for good measure.

Definitely parents of the year!

Hoping and Praying....

It's that time of year when I start to get a little nervous and tense.

Tomorrow will be the third anniversary of my Dad's diagnosis.

In 11 days it will be the 2nd anniversary of when I discovered my own yet-to-be-diagnosed cancer.

I am due for my yearly mammogram next month but there is a problem.

You see, here in Ontario there are three different types of mammography machines. One type, the computed radiography machine, is not as accurate and has been known to 'miss' small cancers. These machines are now being replaced throughout the province (76 of them in total) with a better machine that will not miss these small cancers.  Here's the rub.....the place I have my mammogram done has one of those machines that needs to be replaced. If it weren't for the fact that I'd had several ultrasounds and two breast MRI's and the mastectomy I'd be in one hell of a panic over this thinking this machine missed my cancer last time and that's why it wasn't found....
but the simple fact is, if it had been detectable they would have found it with the MRI's or the dissection of my breast. A small part of me worries though about my mammogram from last year.

Getting back to the matter at hand....I'm not inclined to have a mammogram on this craptastic machine that might miss a small cancer in my left breast. I'd rather have it on a different machine. So my options are....wait for them to replace the machine in July or have my mammo somewhere else.

I'm opting for somewhere else. My sense of urgency on making sure my boobs are boob is healthy is not allowing my mind to reconcile with waiting a full extra month. I want my boob squished on schedule please.   But I can't reach my Dr to tell him to book me in somewhere else. Frustrating.

And then there's the interview.

Interview? you ask, What interview?

Last month I went to a job fair for my local school board. I dropped off my resume when I went in, sat for an hour listening to them telling me about the job I've already done for the past 3 years and then left deciding I wasn't going to pursue the job further. I didn't want to go through the trouble of getting my reference letters, getting another reference letter from my priest (it's a Catholic board) and getting my criminal reference check done again (pricey $$) Because I didn't have the required paperwork in with my resume I assumed that was the end of it.

Not so.

I got an email two days ago inviting me for an interview, despite not having submitted any of the other paperwork.

Now I'm going to be the first person to admit that I often think to myself (and complain to my family and friends) that I'm not 100% happy in my current job. Don't get me wrong - the job itself, I LOVE. I am totally committed to my role and the kids and it still is my dream job. However, for the past 2 years (well, since I went back to work in April 2012) I have been stressed out with my work environment, unhappy about the situation I am in and I know there will be no changes to that situation for at least 4 years.

Quite frankly, I don't know if I can handle 4 more years in the environment I'm in. The stress is taking a toll on my well being.

Cancer changes you and where it was a total leap outside of my comfort zone to even take this job in the first place - it is even more out of my comfort zone to leave it. But I'm no longer the person who sits around letting the what if's scare me.  I have an opportunity to work closer to home (little or no commute? Yes please!) Perhaps (if the stars all align) even at my kids school.....dare to dream......

So next Friday, with the blessing of my principal (and a glowing letter of recommendation!) I will go to my interview and hope for the best.

I am confident that I will be offered a job - mainly because I do the very same job with my current school board. I know my stuff. I am confident in my abilities as an Early Childhood Educator and I'm bringing a kick ass portfolio. So I'm hoping and praying they'll offer me at the kids' school....

imagine the luxury of being able to walk to work.......

I'll keep you posted!

In the True Spirit of Easter

I've been selling my kindergarten resources on Teachers Pay Teachers and Teacher's Notebook for several months now. I've had some success; I don't have huge shops but any means but I've had consistent sales.

I decided that for the month of April I would donate all of my sales to the Relay for Life since April is daffodil month.

I promoted it on my Kindergarten blog but since I still have only a few followers there I decided to promote it on my shops home pages as well.

So I emailed the administrators of the sites to make sure that was permitted (don't want to break any rules!!)

Both sites offered to promote it in their newsletters - that are sent to literally thousands of teachers world wide!!  One newsletter came out today and already I've had 8 sales. I know that doesn't sound like a lot but I only average 1-2 a day and it's only 11:30 am AND it's Easter Sunday. This bodes well for the rest of the month.

It gets better though.

The owner of Teacher's Notebook emailed this morning to get the full details for the newsletter. He then offered to waive the fees for April (which means more for me to donate!) AND  he and his wife personally made a substantial pledge to my Relay for Life team.

When I get down and feeling like my efforts are futile or that I'm in this alone I look around and see that I am surrounded by good people. Kindness and generosity come not just from those you know - but from the unlikeliest of place - from complete strangers. And it never, ever fails to amaze me. And move me.

Seeing the good in others reminds me that it's out there. And it reminds me that I must try my best to be the good in the world too. I've been given a second chance at life - I can't waste it.

Me....A Hockey Mom?

 I may well be one of the very few Canadian born people who does not like hockey. No kidding. It's like when God made us and said "Hmm, this one will be Canadian and she shall love hockey!"  With me He just said "This one is Canadian but she'll be weird and have no use for hockey - making her the embarrassment of a nation!" 

Okay, that might be a bit dramatic. Besides, we have Celine Dion - me not liking hockey really pales in comparison.

My first two children are daughters and while it's not unheard of for girls to play hockey - even my tomboy daughter is not interested. 

Then came Connor.

I promise you this was not our doing. I don't watch hockey. Sean likes hockey but he doesn't watch it. He watches Top Gear. And F1 Racing. And frankly, if Connor told me he wanted to be a racecar driver I'd be over the moon. I can watch that. But hockey?

Over the past few months he's talked a lot about hockey. This friend plays hockey. That friend plays hockey.

Alright kid, I get it. You want to play hockey.

So when the time game to sign him up for an activity I gave him a choice..."Connor, do you want to join baseball again??...  or do you want to play hockey? 

HOCKEY!!

Back in the day - BK (before kids) Sean and I used to go down to Nathan Phillips Square in the winter and skate. It was fun.  Then Emily was born and I haven't been on skates since. (Maybe once or twice - and roller skates but that's not really the same as ice skates)

Let's also factor in an extra 40 lbs since Emily was born and 3 kids (any mother will tell you - your feet change drastically after kids) and well - those damned skinny-footed girly figure skates just didn't fit my big ole fat feet very well.  I'd have been more comfortable in 6 inch stilettos

Last night we took Connor to his first 'Learn to Skate' program. It's a parent and child program so Sean or I have to be on the ice with him. My turn was yesterday - Sean will go next week.

He learned to stand up on his own on the ice after falling (which was helpful since I wasn't so steady myself)  He tried skating alone (with minimal success) 

And then they gave him a hockey stick and a puck and it was like Wayne Gretzky was in front of me.

Alright, not really but the stick and puck gave him some incentive to really try to stand up and skate and he LOVED it.

He loved hockey.

.....and God said, "This one shall be Canadian and LOVE hockey...just to stick it to his mom."

Hope and Cancer

A few weeks ago I had a reader email me asking if he could share his story. Cameron's wife is a cancer survivor and he wanted to share the struggles and victories as a caregiver in the fight against cancer.

Here is his story.

Hope and Cancer

My wife Heather and I can agree that November 21, 2005, was the worst day of our lives. It is the day that she learned that she had malignant pleural mesothelioma, and it is the day that I acquired a job that I was not prepared to take - the job of being a cancer caregiver. We had just celebrated the birth of our daughter Lily three months earlier, and had been happily enjoying the challenge of adjusting to new parenthood. Instead of getting ready to enjoy the holidays with our new little daughter as planned, our lives turned into complete chaos as we began a fight for Heather’s life.

When we were at the doctor’s office, I quickly realized the challenges of being my wife’s caregiver. Our doctor gave us a lot of background information about mesothelioma, and he told us what treatment options we could pursue. We could opt to go to the local hospital, a regional hospital, or a mesothelioma specialist. The specialist was located in Boston, and his name was Dr. David Sugarbaker. After giving us these choices, I waited for my wife to reply. As she sat in shock and disbelief, I knew that she needed help, and it would be up to me to be strong for her. I told the doctor that we were going to Boston.  I had to believe that if anyone could save my wife from this disease, it would be this specialist in Boston.

Over the next two months, our lives were really chaotic. All of our routines had been drastically altered. Heather and I had been accustomed to working full-time jobs, but once she received this diagnosis, she did not work at all, and I could only work part-time.  I had the responsibilities of caring for Heather, taking care of Lily, and making all of Heather’s appointments and travel arrangements. With so many responsibilities, I was overwhelmed. I found myself thinking that I would lose Heather to this disease, and I would have to raise Lily all alone. These thoughts and the pressures of my caregiver role often made me break down and cry whenever I was alone. However, I made sure that Heather never saw me with these tears. Heather depended on me, and I knew that I had to be strong for her.

There were so many family, friends, and strangers to offer us comforting words and even monetary assistance. We can never fully thank them for their help. If there is one piece of advice that I can offer other cancer caregivers, that advice would be to use any assistance offered to you. When people offer their help to you, it allows you to realize that you are not alone in this situation, and will lift some of the burden off of you.  Don’t be too proud to accept this help.

Caring for someone with cancer is a hard job, and during this time, you will experience a lot of stress. However, unlike other difficulties in life, you cannot simply walk away from this job. You must work hard to not allow these feelings to overtake you, but most importantly, you must make sure to never give up hope.

Heather went through a lot of treatment procedures over the following months including mesothelioma surgery, chemotherapy and radiation.  Thankfully, despite the odds, she was able to beat this disease. It has been seven years, and she remains cancer free to this day.

This ordeal allowed me to realize that time is extremely precious, and as a result, I decided to go back to school as a full-time student and major in Information Technology.  My time as a caregiver gave me the strength and the courage to pursue this dream of mine.

The stress that I experienced with Heather’s diagnosis truly prepared me for college. I graduated with honors, and I was the student graduation speaker. I clearly remember telling the audience that just a few years before, sitting in a doctor’s office and hearing that my wife had cancer, I never imagined my life would turn out the way it did. My wife taught me to never give up hope, and now I hope that by sharing this story with others, we can help inspire them in their own cancer battles today.

So You've Been Diagnosed with Cancer.....

The following is reposted from my friend, my Survival Sista, Amy's CaringBridge journal.

Amy was diagnosed with breast cancer around the same time I was and underwent a double mastectomy and chemo. 

I thought it was worthy of reposting here for anyone who stumbles this way. My stats show that a lot of people find this blog through breast cancer diagnosis searches and we want you to know, you are not alone.  And these are things we wish we'd known in the beginning of our respective journey's.

I felt compelled to write this down because so many have asked me various questions or asked me to speak with newly diagnosed people. Maybe it can help one of you help someone or for your own understanding. So here goes....

It has been over a year since my diagnosis and in that time I have learned so much and come such a long way. I recently thought of signing up to be a peer to peer counselor for newly diagnosed breast cancer patients. I have spent some time thinking about all of the things I have experienced and learned in the last year. It is overwhelming to really think about. I guess it really got me thinking that some people reading this may be newly diagnosed and I wanted to share my most key points in case it helps others going through this breast cancer nightmare. (or any other cancer really)

(from another side of it, I also watched my dear, sweet, strong mother fight ovarian cancer for 5 yrs only to lose her battle, but going through my own experience has also helped me understand some of the things she would try to explain even then. Its a full circle perspective!!!)

1. Get second opinion and weigh ALL of your options. I think that even if you think you may get a lumpectomy you should meet with a breast surgeon and a plastic surgeon and just hear what everyone has to say. Get second opinions for both too. I did and found hearing what each of the surgeons had to say helped me make a decision I could live with. (my own personal experience being a double mastectomy & reconstruction)

 

 

2. Consider more medications! I was always the type of person that hated taking medications. Now I embrace medications that will help me. I also welcome xanax at night to help me sleep and lexapro to keep me calm and reduce my anxiety over dealing with breast cancer. Honestly, I would never in a million years think I would take xanax or lexapro, but I am glad I did have them and it has made things a lot better for me, also made me a better patient, calmer. Don't be afraid to talk to your doctor about this, it is normal. Breast cancer is a lot to deal with so there is nothing wrong with a little help.

3. Don't let your anticipation get the best of you, everyone has it Its fear of the unknown. (the medications could help with some of this) Every step of the way I worried and had huge anxiety over what was to come. (even though my Faith was strong & I had plenty of support) I was an emotional wreck and freaked myself out so bad before some procedures or chemo and expected the worst. (I am also a needle-phobic) What I found is that most things were actually easier than I anticipated (don't get me wrong...it was not cakewalk!). I just had extreme fear of the unknown and made it worse in my head that it actually was, once I learned to make it seem more like a mundane task, like doing housework, my anxiety subsided a little bit. Sometimes you have to learn to turn off your mind & stop thinking and just DO!!!

4. Don't think about the "big picture". Take it one step at a time. I think if you look at the entire breast cancer road ahead of you, it is just way too much. I did better just focusing on the next step I had to deal with and not the whole thing all at once. This kept me a little more sane!

5. Attitude matters - A LOT! I told myself I would not be that sick girl going through chemo...and I wasn't. I got up every day and exercised and tried to do everything I normally did before chemo on a daily basis, some days were tougher than others. (but I put on my wig & makeup anyway) The more I kept moving and acting normal, I did not focus on being sick from chemo. Granted some people take chemo harder than I did, but I do believe the more you buy into feeling like crap, you will feel like crap. Just my opinion. You have to stay positive & busy. I even caught up on some scrapbook projects while I was recovering and was well enough to sit up. Anything to stay busy & "normal".

6. Remove bad foods and toxic items from your life. Along with everything i already knew about nutrition, I also read The Anti Cancer book and it helped me understand which foods are bad for cancer patients and that actually fuel cancer. I have been able to adjust my eating to make me healthier and hopefully decrease my odds of recurrence. (even carrying the gene) I have also read a lot on the internet about toxic ingredients and hormones in body care products. I have also changed make up, lotions, deodorant, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, hair color, cookware, plastic containers, water bottles and cleaning supplies. The world is full of toxic chemicals so I am avoiding the ones I can avoid. It takes a lot of time to research this stuff, but it is worth it.

7. You don't have to lose your hair during chemo. Penguin Cold Caps can work for some people depending on which chemo you have. I had tax, red devil, & cytoxan and they didn't for me, but I had the really heavy "hitters", so I was happy with my wig. (and I made it fun to go get one & my advice is to you if it is falling out - shave your head when you are ready, don't watch your hair fall out every day, it is just too traumatic for women - make peace with it and shave it - I had my husband shave mine at the first signs) Most doctors will not tell you about cold caps and if you bring it up, they will tell you they don't work. But try it anyway, doctors know a lot, but if he''s a man, he still doesn't understand the way a woman things completely. LOL

. 8. Connect with people that "get it"! I am fortunate that I was referred to a breast cancer counselor and through her connected to groups and get a lot of support online from other women that are going through breast cancer too. I still participate in online message boards and a private facebook chat group of dear friends I met through having breast cancer. I could not have gotten through this without my good friends that surround me and are also living this nightmare along with the message boards where I have gotten great advice and support.

9. People act stupid when the word "cancer" comes up. People just don't know how to act. Many people will let you down while you go through breast cancer treatment and surgeries. Some people that you think really care about you won't even acknowledge your cancer or offer to help. Some don't even call. In time I have grown to realize it does not mean they don't care, they just don't know what to say or how to act, so they do nothing. I won't lie, it hurt me a lot that some people acted like they were ignoring me, but I really think they just didn't know how to process it. And to be honest, my energy had to be spent on surviving, not dwelling!!!

 

 

10. I have always said "Exercise is important" and I still say it. I exercised daily through chemo and treatment on the days I could, except when I was instructed not to exercise. AND even then I asked my Dr every appt if I could yet, he even labeled me his "racehorse patient" because not one of his patients asked that question as much as I did. It helped me physically and emotionally. Exercise not only made my body stronger, but helped reduce my stress levels. I think it also helped me focus on feeling GOOD, not crappy through treatment. You must find a while to distract your mind and stay positive!!!


I am sure there are countless other things I have learned, but these are the things that stand out the most in my mind right now. Breast cancer is a long, complicated, and exhausting process. I am sure I will continue to learn more things as I move forward surviving breast cancer. In fact, I learn something every time I speak to someone else about their experience. Things I never even considered during mine, because that's the thing, we are all going through it, but we are all in a different place. But that's how we help each other. I don't want breast cancer to be what defines me for the rest of my life, but it has been a part of me for so long, I don't know who I was anymore before being a cancer survivor!!! So, if I can help someone then that's what I want to do. So they know they are never alone. (the loneliness can be the worst part and can be suffocating)

Even now, I still have lingering side effects that frustrate me every day. But I know, from talking to others, these are normal and can be worked through. Maybe one day I will write about those, BUT writing/ thought process/ memory is one of the things affected by my side effects. It takes me much longer to get out a thought and it be read properly, but I keep working through it. That's what you do - You Keep Moving Forward because you never know what lies ahead!!!

 

One more thing I might add....it's okay to be selfish. You are, quite literally, fighting for your life. My Dr. is famous for saying "No one wins a prize for being a hero." What he meant was that you don't need to do it all. There are so many resources available for people dealing with cancer; counselling and support. A good place to start looking is the Canadian Cancer Society or the American Cancer Society.
If you feel sad, cry. If you feel angry, shout. If you feel tired, sleep. If you feel pain, take some medication. But mostly when you feel good, celebrate!  Do what makes you happy - LIVE your life.

What's More Important....?

I came here today with the intent to post a small rant.

You see, we had a snowstorm here yesterday.

"What's the big deal?" You ask, "you live in Canada!" And while that is true, I more specifically live in the GTA where large amounts of snow all at one time are not the norm. We get a couple of cm at a time - not 25+ cm in one day. And while for a large part of Canada that is no big deal (I think my cousins on the east coast are getting something like 50 cm today) for us, in the GTA, it is a big deal.

So yesterday the snow fell. Lots of it. I got up nice and early to watch the news to see if maybe, just maybe school would be cancelled. No such luck - but the buses were cancelled which meant most kids wouldn't be at school anyway.

So being the good Canadian I am, I soldiered on and drove the 30+ km to work in the crappy snow.

 

 

I knew there wouldn't be a lot of kids at school because the buses were not running. And since it was Friday a lot of people just took the day off. But some people didn't. Some people have to go to work, no matter the weather (present company included).

 

But here's the thing. Of the 5 kids in my class who came to school - every single one of them had parents at home. Not at work or at school. At home with younger siblings or in their pj's or doing who knows what.

 

Back in the day when I was working in daycare my opinion that stay at home parents should not have their children in full time daycare was not always popular. Part time daycare or nursery school is great - kids need socialization away from parents - but full day, every day - I've always had a problem with that if Mom or Dad is home all day.

 

This is another instance in which my opinion might be wildly unpopular.

 

I have to wonder why those 5 kids were at school? Did their parents think we'd be learning anything? And even if we were - did they think that missing one day of school in Kindergarten was going to set up their entire educational career for failure??  I can't really fathom why any parent would take their child out in that weather if they didn't have to! 

 

Now before I get a bunch of angry comments about how some parents have no choice but to work and therefore their kids have to go to school or daycare even on a craptastic day like that - I know - I get it. I had to go to work. If I were a single parent or if Sean had to have had to work too or my mom was not living here or Emily wasn't old enough to take care of Connor and Mary then they too would have had to go to school yesterday.

 

But they didn't have to. So I didn't send them. Because their staying home for one day wasn't going to destroy them academically. Because then maybe there wouldn't have been any students in their class and their teachers could go home safely to their families instead of being at work essentially babysitting my kids; because I can promise you no one taught yesterday. 

 

What was so infuriating about yesterday was *most* of the children who were at school yesterday did not NEED to be there. So why did their parents send them? Who was gaining?

 

The parents - that's who. They were "getting rid of " their child for a few hours.  Forget about the teachers who had to travel to and from school to be with those kids (who watched movies all day) who had to drive in that weather - who risked their lives to sit with your kids for 6 hours so that you could watch All My Children because you didn't want to keep them home.

 

If we lived somewhere else in Canada where this type of weather was the norm it might be different but this was the worst storm we've had in 5 years. If you didn't HAVE to be out in it, why were you? Keep your kids home. Spend the day with them. Enjoy them. Take them sledding. Play a game with them. Have a pillow fight.

 

I came here today with the intention to post that rant and leave it at that but my thoughts on this were punctuated by a blogger friend's post that I read this morning. Her teenage son battled cancer at the same time as me. He won that fight last year but they've just discovered spots on his lungs.

 

I can't even begin to fathom what his mom is feeling right now but it makes me want to hug my kids tighter. It reaffirms my contention that nothing is more important than time spent with your kids - that playing hookie from school or work is okay and that we should all be embracing every single moment with our kids.

 

My prayers are with my friend and her family that they will find the strength and courage to fight on and win the battle again. It's a long and terrible road, one they know all too well.

 

Hug your kids, spend time with them. Make them a priority.  Nothing should be is more important than they are. 

CPAP? More like C Crap!

For those of you 'in the know' I'll bet you can see where I'm going with this one.

In January I went for a sleep study. You see, I snore. Like a chainsaw. It was to the point that my poor husband spent most nights on the couch instead of on our brand new super comfy mattress.

I know that most of the snoring is because of my weight but I decided a sleep study was in order just to be sure that I didn't have apnea.

Well apparently I do (though to be honest, I tend to believe that if every single person went for a sleep study they would all be diagnosed with apnea. I mean truly, have you ever heard of anyone who had a sleep study who wasn't told they had apnea? Just my thoughts)

Anyhow, for anyone who's never had the pleasure of a sleep study it involves being hooked up to  to more wires and electrodes and shit than they had me hooked up to when they removed my breast and then expecting you to sleep. Funny right? They tape things to your face. They wrap belts around your chest and stomach, put you in a strange bed and tell you to sleep like you normally do. Because every other night I'm wired up like a 1980's stereo system.

So now I've got a CPAP machine.

I promise you I went into this with an open mind. I thought, hey if I *thought* I was sleeping well (my snoring doesn't bother me, it bothers everyone else!) and then I used the CPAP machine maybe I'd sleep even better and feel like a million bucks.

I got this mask

Mine's pink though. Sexy huh? The kids call it my elephant mask.

I'm not sold. I've had it since Friday and I've only had two good nights with it. It's uncomfortable. It shoots air into your nose at a much stronger pressure than you're used to with breathing and it makes me hyperventilate. Not to mention the smell. Blah!

I've learned that having a nose mask and allergies doesn't always work. Often times I can't breathe through both nostrils and since you can't breathe out of your mouth with this mask - breathing becomes an issue.

I called the respiratory therapist to try another mask but he said to keep working with this one a while longer because he's positive if he gives me the fighter pilot mouth mask I won't wear it at all. I know he's right.

I'll keep trying. Last night was a good night so I'm feeling more optimistic today.

Here's the thing though. Once upon a time I looked forward to bedtime. My favorite time of day. I LOVE to sleep and I LOVE my bed.

I'm not feeling that love anymore and that upsets me more than anything.

It's All About the Box.

Any parent will tell you that Christmas with young children can often be hit or miss. You can spend a small fortune on toys and the kids end up playing with the box.
I got smart this year though. I bought my kids boxes.

 

Mary got a cardboard box house.

 

Connor got a cardboard box rocket ship.

As I was putting together Mary's house for her the other day (it's huge and takes up most of her bedroom. Hindsight being what it is, I should have put it up in the playroom) I was thinking about how she's 10 years old and still excited about playing with a box.

Christmas shopping was tough for her this year. She likes some big kid things like these dinguses guys

But she also still likes toys and on the top of her list is Monster High Dolls. She also got a Furby for Christmas (a bit of a snafu, it was supposed to be for Connor but then I realized it wasn' a Furby he was telling me about and in fact, he didn't even want a Furby)

Mary is not the most mature 10 year old. I know that. It used to worry me but then I really took time to think about it. I'm thrilled that my 10 yr old still plays with toys, believes in Santa and has an imagination. I'm glad she doesn't worry about clothes, boys (well, she did have that one crush) make up and being cool.

Mary is unique, out there, wild and crazy and not afraid to be herself.

My 10 year old got a box for Christmas and I've seen her play some pretty creative games with it already.  In short, my child is still a child and I couldn't be happier!

Tomorrow is new years eve. We're going to have a nice quiet evening at home, with junk food, games and movies. It's also time for me to review the goals I set for this year and see if I actually accomplished any of them. And to set new ones for 2013.

Heartbreak

Holy bananas if feels like I haven't had a minute to myself lately. I've been crazy busy with work and family.

I'll be glad for the Christmas vacation so I can take a breather. Until then I'm going to continue being crazy busy though.

My baby girl has suffered her first broken heart.

Mary has a crush on a boy at school and finally worked up the nerve to send him a note telling him so. She found out this boy only likes her 'as a friend' and in fact has a crush on another girl in her class.

She cried. And cried and cried some more.

She hugged her stuffed bear, she ate ice cream and she swore she'd never be happy again.

Remarkably she felt somewhat better the next day so I guess the heartbreak wasn't as bad as she thought.

What was more interesting in all of this was learning that my dear husband is not exactly equipped to deal with such things. He's a man after all. He thinks like a guy. He doesn't get it that when a boy you like doesn't like you back it's the end of the world and you don't want to hear about how 'this is only one of many heartbreaks you'll suffer through your life. He doesn't get that all we want to hear is how this guy must be gay - why else wouldn't he like us? Or he's just plain stupid - after all, we are THE one all guys should want.

I'm sure over time he'll figure it out. He's got two daughters and not to sound all manly but there will undoubtedly be string of broken hearts in the future that he'll need to help mend.

Murray

Thursday was my final....FINAL herceptin treatment. I have not completely finished my treatments for cancer. I am now officially, on the other side.

I made bags up for all the nurses in the chemo clinic. I had canvas bags made at Vistaprint with a picture of the tree of life on the front (I thought that was fitting)  I filled the bag with lotion, sanitizers and soap from Bath and Body Works, a big box of chocolates and a gift card for the coffee shop in the hospital. I wrote a nice card and brought in boxes of chocolates for the secretaries and volunteers as well.

I was giddy.

My own doctor was away on vacation. He's semi retired now so he's away often. His replacement was a younger woman, very friendly, and judging from what I overheard in the other room, very well versed in oncology. In fact, one of my nurses suggested I approach her to take me on as a patient when my own oncologist retires. I liked her and think I will do just that.

I wrote in my journal one final time too. I wrote about how 16 months ago I walked out of that hospital newly diagnosed with cancer and terrified about the road ahead. And today (well, Thursday) I was was walking out a survivor. And I owed that all, quite literally my life,  to my medical team.

And yet, I'd admit, part of me had a touch of survivors guilt. Because I know that while I am able to walk out of there again, smiling, happy and above all else, cancer free - I know there are lots of people who don't. People who may have even been there at that time. So though I was celebrating I was trying not to be boastful about it. I was trying to be sensitive to the others there.

I was in 'my' chair. It's off in a corner - away from most of the other chairs and quite. I like it there. I can read and relax. While I was there, the nurses were coming over to congratulate me. One of them, while hooking up the IV on the man next to me commented that after a year and a half I was finally done.

The man looked over at me and said, "A year and a half, you're lucky, two years for me!"

The man introduced himself as Murray. He's 84 years old (and he looked fantastic, I wouldn't have placed him at 70)  He asked me what type of cancer I'd had and if I was scared. We talked about his cancer (lung) and how he'd already done one bout with cancer and thought he'd be done with it but nope - no such luck.  We talked about my husband and kids and parents and his wife and kids and grandkids. He cracked a subtle joke about marriage, I laughed and agreed with him and he told me I was quick and that he liked me. 

But mostly we talked the way cancer patients talk to one another. About the simple fact that while everyone around us does their best to understand, no one really quite gets what it is we're going through. It really is a game changer. We put on brave faces or we don't  because we agreed that there are two kind of cancer patients - those who lament and those who accept it for what it is and try to keep positive)  We manage our pain both physically and emotionally and we support our families. Because in that too we agreed, it can sometimes be harder on our families than it is on us.....

I enjoyed my time with Murray and I was a little sad to go. He was funny and interesting he called my husband Michael (I don't know what made him think my husbands name was Michael but I didn't see the need to correct him) His wife was lovely too. He introduced me to her just as I was leaving (she had been upstairs) and he told her "we talked at length about this cancer business but neither of us solved a damned thing!"

I think I'll think about Murray often. I don't know his prognosis. I didn't ask. But I'll wish him well and say a prayer that no matter what happens with him, that he greets it with open arms.

And for me. I can finally put this cancer business behind me and look forward again.

The Tail of Two Boobs

Once upon a time I had two boobs. Just like other women. Then cancer took one away from me.

I continue to fight back only now it's time to fight back against the one boobed monster.

Okay, that was all just plain cheesey.

I went to see the new plastic surgeon about reconstruction today. If you'll recall, I've already been to see one and it didn't go well.

I got into his office 10 minutes before my appointment. It was clean, it smelled nice and was very tastefully decorated (he had some artwork on his wall, besides the painting above my fireplace that I LOVE, I've never seen another piece of art that spoke to me...I loved these pictures.)

When I got in there was another woman in the waiting room. She went in about 2 minutes later. Not a minute after that another woman came in. She spoke with the receptionist only to discover that she was 2 hours early for her appointment (though she was 15 minutes late for the time she thought she had...yeah.)  The receptionist said to her, "well, you've only got a follow up, you'll be quick. You can stay."  Then she puts me on the spot by asking if the woman can go in front of me since she' going to be really fast.

What am I going to say, no? Of course not. I'm not a bitch. So I said sure. Then the receptionist says to this other lady - "great, he's just got someone in for a consult so you'll be about a half an hour before you go in."

WHOA!!! No one told me I'm already waiting 30 minutes!!!

So, now I'm not as impressed. I mean, this guy is running 30 minutes behind and now I have to wait even longer because this ditz can't tell time?? Shit.

And to add insult to injury, this guy didn't even have good magazines in his waiting room. (though it makes sense that a cosmetic surgeon has fashion magazines in his office...I'm sure many of his clients are botox kind of folks.....)

When I finally got in, I was unmoved. He was quiet, monotone and didn't seem warm. But I think he was just nervous because he loosened up along the way.

He gave me the options that I'm good for; TRAM flap surgery - in which they take muscle and tissue from your stomach to reconstruct the breast, Latissimus Dorsi flap surgery, in which they take muscle and tissue from the back - combined with an expander and implant and Skin and Tummy Fat Microsurgery which I'm also a candidate for but it's only done by a couple of Dr's here so I'd be waiting upwards of 2 years for that surgery.

He laid out the facts, the pros and cons, the recovery time (which was a huge factor in my decision) and answered all of my questions thoroughly and patiently. In short, he was fantastic!!

So, I've decided to have the Latissimus Dorsi flap surgery. The recovery time is less for that, and while it's two surgeries (one to move the muscle and one to put the implant in) the recovery for it will be shorter and easier and the results are just as good. And if, for some reason it fails (there is always the risk of failure) I can still have the TRAM flap surgery.

Initially I was going to do it in March so I could piggy back it with March Break but I'm still going to have to go to the Dr weekly to have the expander filled with saline so I've postponed it until the summer after get back from Florida. That was I can take the rest of the summer to deal with it and only miss a bit of work to have the implant put in.

I'm ridiculously excited. This time next year...I'll have TWO boobs.

I can't wait!!!

All Things Kindergarten

I know I'm not posting as much as I used to. Forgive me.  I mean, I know you wait with bated breath for each and every post and well...you're getting blue in the face waiting.

In all seriousness, getting back to good health means getting back into the routine of life and life takes up a lot of my time.

I'll catch you up a bit.

Next Saturday I'm hosting a Celebrating Life party. You see, November 15th is my final herceptin treatment and that means I'll finally be completely done with cancer treatments. I'll still see one of my oncologists every 3 months and have a yearly mammo but beyond that - it's time to move on.

It's bitter sweet. I'm thrilled to be almost done but I'm sad to be losing my safety net. Every 3 weeks for the past 14 months I've gone to the chemo clinic for some form of treatment and while it hasn't always been pleasant, the camaraderie you feel with the other patients and the familiarity with the nurses and volunteers makes it feel safe. And while I don't want you to mistaken this next comment for my having enjoyed any part of the last 14 months - I'll say that I will miss going  to the chemo clinic. I'll miss the nurses. I'll wonder about the other patients I've spent my time talking to. 

I won't miss cancer though.

And so, to celebrate the end of my treatments I'm throwing a party and I'm going to eat and drink and celebrate.

I've been getting into a better groove at work. I'm not as stressed anymore and am enjoying it again. I've got a great class this year and things are progressing nicely.

And to go along with that, I've started paying more attention to my kindergarten blog. I even opened a Teachers Pay Teachers store. I'm full of great ideas and resources and want to share them. Some of them are tried and true and some of them are new. I'm also having a fine old time with creating digital documents to sell and give away (more of the things I'd made for school before were kind of bland and boring. So I purchased some digital clip art and a licence and have been jazzing them up a bit.)  This creative side of me can not be stopped!


Anyhow, I'd be thrilled if you popped on over to my kindergarten blog and followed me and if you're a fellow educator (or know other educators) share my blog with them too.  Just click the pretty picture below!

 

I've got to give a plug to my dear friend Amanda at Little Bean Shop.  Back in the day when I ran my home daycare she created my logo for me (you can see it in her gallery photos -it's the one for Little Chickadee Home Daycare)  I wanted to redesign All Things Kindergarten and there is no one I'd trust more to do the job. She created the blog background, header and buttons. It's not quite done yet but so far...I'm loving it.
Amanda's  the girl to talk to for all your digital needs! (Not to mention she's an all around fantabulous person!)


So that's it in a nutshell. 

What's new with you?