My Best Friend And The 'C' Word

She finally went the Emergency Room after months of hematochezia and weight loss on a weekend. The impromptu visit was brought on by the syncope and the worry of not being there for her kids. I found out through text that she had the dirty C word. She has cancer. I didn't find out what kind or really much of anything besides the locations of where her cancer was until about 5 days after she was diagnosed. I wanted to give her space so she wasn't bombed with texts and phone calls from those she was telling with questions. I felt like I could wait...I was with her in the beginning, I knew I'd be with her throughout it all. I could wait.

I spent the next couple nights thinking only of her in my spare thoughts. I cried the most for her on a Monday night. That's when my heart hurt the most. I think that's the moment I realized that's when I loved her the most as a friend too.

This has been really hard to go through as her friend. I can't even imagine the amount of suffering emotionally and mentally she is going through. Just fighting the disease is a huge battle all around by itself but having to consider your children and husband in the mix and preparing for a potential future without you there with them is something that only the strong themselves can truly do. She has always been an amazingly strong woman. Never allowing pride to be the fault that breaks her but allowing pride to be the thing that drives her. She works hard, loves hard, and lives to the fullest. Cancer has become the thing that will be her toughest enemy. Good thing she's a tough b*tch and is going to win this battle.

Her treatments are rough and long and pretty much drain the crap out of her. She's lost so much weight I just want to kidnap her and force feed her cookies, doughnuts and ice cream for days. Granted she looks great and our running joke is that the 'Soup Diet' works....but I just want her to get a fat ass when she eats too much candy like everyone else.

I still cry every now and then. There are moments where it's harder than others. But it's ridiculous at best in comparison.  My heart still aches when I think about what she is going through and the potential absence in my life. And then I think about the not thinking about the absence as it's not the way things will go. That positive energy must be there to help give strength and courage in every aspect.

I imagine myself standing next to her holding her hand sometimes with the wind blasting us in the face and our heads bent down bearing the brunt of the force, eventually slowing to a relaxing breeze with nothing but warmth  around us. This will be beat.

This is hard writing this. It's hard going through this as a friend. It's hard because of where we worked. Not a day goes by that a patient doesn't find out and ask for all the details. Not a week goes by that I don't cry with a patient over the diagnosis and console them that she's a fighter and will beat this. Not a month goes by that I encourage those who are old and have seen life and death more than any human cares to that she's young and vibrant and tough and will beat this. Not a moment goes by that someone isn't praying for her to keep up the good fight and win this battle. I do regret any flakiness I've had towards her in the past and that I've allowed my social anxieties to get the better of me. This is something I work on to enjoy the daily and add another list of 'no regrets' to my life story. I expect to share this for many years with her.

She has many trials ahead of her and many obstacles. Please find it in your hearts to donate because every little bit helps her in fighting the good fight. Can't donate? Please share and help spread the word to get yourself checked regularly for not only Colon Cancer but all cancers.

Click here: GoFundMe for my BFF

Abbi-The Orange Headed Step Cat

So I own this cat name Abbi. That's spelled A.B.Bi. Daughter of Spruce. Father unknown. She is a short-haired, Tabby-cat with eyes of marigold. She's neurotic, mean and drools when you pet her. She meows loudly at the kids doors after we put them to bed and pees on the floor next to the litter box. She scratches you when you walk by randomly and licks you when you're not looking. This is her story.

Abbi was born into this world breech. I remember my husband, then boyfriend, calling me on the phone telling me Spruce was in labor. I remember telling him what to do in the event of a breach, I said I'd be right there and hung up the phone and sped over the causeway to attempt to get there to see some of the kittens being born.

By the time I got there 3 kittens had come into the world. Spruce was laboring into her fourth kitten. I think fate had a hand to play in the birth of Abbi as she came out about ten minutes after I got there... and she was breech.

I've seen calves birthed breach a couple of times and some sheep and a couple kittens but had never personally helped in any of them. After I got a firm but careful grip I helped birth Abbi and laid her down next to Spruce. Spruce almost immediately went into delivering for the last kitten, completely ignoring the kitten she'd just given birth to. I picked Abbi up and cleaned her face and rubbed her and within a few moments a little mew came from her mouth.

She was an orange tabby cat, and I claimed her as mine. When she was just barely old enough to wean, I took her home to meet my man-cat Edward.  Per typical Edwardism, he was thoroughly unimpressed. But all kittens are super cute and she became a favorite for both Edward and I.

Shortly after I noticed a little pin sized hole in her shoulder. Not knowing what it was exactly I made a mental note to just keep an eye on it. It's a good thing I did because that little tiny hole gradually grew bigger until it eventually hit the size of a pencil eraser head. Until I could figure out what it was I made her a couple kitty sweaters from my socks to keep her from licking the wound.

I came home with a friend from work equipped with tweezers, a scalpel, clindamycin, and bandages thinking I was going to be draining some sort of abscess. When I got there my sister came out with Abbi in her arms and informed me that her wound had moved. I knew exactly what it was. I had my friend hold her down as I pressed down around the outside of the hole in her shoulder. As soon as I saw a black thing stick its head out I gently grabbed it with tweezers and started to pull. That sucker had a pretty tight hold for how what it was!

After almost losing it, it was completely out and drowning in a half drank bottle of water. I bandage her wound up and gave her a lengthy researched dose of clindamycin. Put a sweater on her and went to show Reed. She had a speedy recovery and was no worse for the wear. Note: Research Bot Fly Larvae

A few months of the larvae incident, we moved to a different location and had just finished bringing the cats over. We decided to go run a couple of errands after we had put a few boxes in their places. I think we were gone for maybe 20 minutes or so before we got back and  heard little mews of distress. We started our search for the orange furball immediately. I ended up finding her in a room that had some fishing poles, one of which was set up with a Sabiki rig.

I found Abbi attached to the end of one of the hooks gripped to the side of a mattress so she didn't hang off the line by her cheek. I picked her up and Reed and I went into action. After cutting the line we started to wrap her in a towel to keep her safe. From there it was a serious of trial and error to figure out how to get this tiny hook out of her mouth. The amazing thing about this is as soon as we got the hook out, she went straight to her bowl and ate some food seemingly unaffected by the event.

From there her lives have been a roller coaster of ups and downs and near misses. She is truly the epitome of 'Curiosity kills the cat.' We love her in the 'stop being so curious and kill all of your nine lives before we get too attached kinda way.' Out of all the joking of her being the red headed step cat, and us always trying to sell her or even give her away for free because of all her shortcomings, she is still here with us. Living as our little ass backwards bitch, Abbi.

Hallmark Holiday

That's right, I'm one of those who thinks Valentines Day is a Hallmark Holiday specially pushed by card companies and flower companies to spend money on one singular day of "love." One day where you either have someone you can say I love you to or a day where you are recognized publicly to be alone. A day where we yet again waste paper products on cards we'll never have for a lifetime and flowers that will fade within a week and chocolate that makes our asses fatter. Nothing says love like dead flowers and diabetes.

Love to me, is one of those things that shouldn't be forced one day out of the year. Why demonstrate love publically? Why push PDA on the mass of society when this is something you could randomly display on any occasion. I find it much more romantic when I'm surprised with flowers on a random day then on a day that's internationally pushed for material goods. People measure how much they are loved based on what they receive. Who's received the biggest bouquet of flowers, the biggest box of chocolates, the shiniest piece of jewelry....

Am I indifferent to V-Day....sure more than likely. Will I be a grinch about the holiday, no. I am not one to rain on someone's parade. But I'd much rather spend my days feeling special and loved by the person who is suppose to make me feel that way on a daily basis (I'll settle for once a week). I've tried to escape the swarm of pink and hearts of this holiday by celebrating my anniversary two days before the wretched cupid induced swoonfest. It's made finding an anniversary card easy and hard all at once. It's easy to find cards spewing love all over the place but in the end they all say Happy Valentines Day. I see the flaws in my master plan to avoid a silly holiday.

Ultimately, this holiday I would never think twice about if we banned it completely from our lexicon of holidays. It's unnecessary and celebrates something that we should practice on a daily basis. We shouldn't need a holiday to remind us to show each other that we love and care about each other.

Time of Year

This is it. This is the time of year that makes me wish I didn't live in paradise. The time of year that brings me to a feeling of homesickness more than any other time of year.

Photo credits to Betsy Struxness @be_strux 

Growing up in the midwest part of the United States I always enjoyed and appreciated the feeling of fall. The temperature dropping but not so cold you can still go outside with just a long sleeve shirt on. The school football games and the smell of crisp air. The leaves turning on all the trees to brilliant oranges, purples, reds, and yellows and then falling to the ground. Yes even a part of me misses having to rake up all the leaves.

@be_stux

I lived in a pretty quiet town for a long time. I remember the sound of fall. During the quietest of moments you could hear the leaves turn.

I miss the opportunities that came with the turning of the seasons to see the northern lights. Nothing was more marvelous than being able to experience that on a yearly basis...even if I did have to wear a parka to see them.

@be_strux

The first frost was always the most fun for me too. Jack has always tickled my visual senses with his intricate frost designs on pretty much anything it touched. And I've come to realize why people who live in areas where the seasons change are a bit more friendlier to each other. They have to huddle to stay warm. Gotta be nice to those standing next to you because when it's your turn to rotate you don't want to be the penguin that got left out.

Paradise is nice, but seasons are nicer.



Photo credits go to the amazing Betsy Struxness.

My Application to Reality TV

Everyone has their favorite reality TV smut that they like to watch. If not religiously only occasionally...but they still have it. Mine would have to be Big Brother. I don't know what it is about the show that gets me but every season leaves me wanting to be on the show more and more thinking I might be the next 500K winner.

Picture submitted for BB17 application

So I submitted my application today. It would be an amazing feat to even make it to the next round of casting so the fact that I got all my stuff together that they need was amazing!  They had some pretty generic questions and an essay that had to be 70 words or less. That was the hardest part of the whole application trying to condense myself into that few words.

I also decided to go with a recent pic vs the default pic I use for everything (because it's the best pic I've ever taken).

I'll keep everyone updated as to if I hear anything from the casting directors so until then...keep your fingers crossed!

Favorite Patient

Found out today that my favorite patient passed away yesterday. He had had a long battle with cancer and some other ailments. I'll miss all our conversations about our favorite football team and randomness involving the world. I don't normally cry when patients pass but this one hit me. I will miss him dearly and hope that his mother finds comfort around those who loved him and love her. He was her everything. R.I.P. Jack...I hope your black and gold is brilliant wherever you are. You will be missed.

The Pink In My Life

When I was pregnant with my first child, I knew without a doubt that he was boy. In my heart of hearts I knew all my life I would have a boy and he would be the first born. When I became pregnant with my second child, I subconsciously, and probably more consciously than I'm willing to admit, knew I was having a girl. And at that time; wishing and hoping and praying it was a boy for more reason than one.

My reasons for a boy were minimal. One, I wanted a boy for economic purposes. I know for a fact any mother going into their second child at the very least thinks about this aspect as they have become fully aware of the cost of one child. And oh man, the thought of at least saving on clothes AND choice of toys is nothing but dollar signs. Lets not forget they would potentially be able to share a room for forever! KA-CHING!

Two, I didn't want the relationship with my daughter that I have with my mom. A little blurb of that particular relationship as I saw it. I was 25ish when I got pregnant and had been through a lot of cray stuff even for a 25 year old. Some which my mom knew, a lot she didn't and may still not know. I lived with my Grandmother for a while. I know and understand the reason. All the stories that come with my mom during that time I do not know. I'm sure that whatever was going on at that time was tough and the decision to leave me with my grandma was confirmed the best. I thank her for that frequently. Everything kinda gets a little blurry from when I was in third grade and met my BFFSG (Best Friend Forever Since 3rd Grade!) until we moved to Minnesota with my new Step Dad. I had a lot of hurt and anger inside me and they are things that I have worked through on multiple occasions and may even still find myself still projecting lasting effects.

On the plus side, I feel differently toward my mother now, then I did back then and definitely for the better. However, I did not enjoy my relationship with my mother as a child for a long time. I have different speculations as to why but I've never been able to pin-point this particular reason. I've also wondered frequently if this is just typical mother/daughter nomenclature and the cycle of 'coming to' with your relationship is a coming to of maturity for females in general. These generalized ideas are kind of why I had my doubts about having a girl.

knowing from the beginning that I was having a girl whether I was ready to admit it or not, I always knew my heart and soul loved her from the beginning. It was different from my son but vast nonetheless...even though I was still not ok with the idea of a girl until I had my 22wk sonogram. And even then...NO PINK! Fun fact: for both our kids we had only one name that was of no question from the beginning, and that was their first names.

Having a girl, let me just say, involves an overwhelming amount of pink. Everything comes in pink and it's very difficult to find it in any other color. Purple is next but even that seems to be a discluded color amongst newborns. If you haven't gathered yet I don't much care for the color pink. I'll make exceptions but they are particular. Clothes get cuter as they get older...or they just have a girlie effect on me. (Tomboy for life!) So I've discovered having a girl isn't all that bad and that even with all the dang pink I have in my house now, I can still have a little girl who apparently really likes a lot of the things that I like already. Regardless of what she does end up growing to like, I know that we will be connected in our relationship. And I believe that is what I want the most.


As I write this out, I hope who ever chooses to read this sees it from multiple perspectives and respects all perspectives including my own. And know that all experiences in life though similar; are extremely different.