No more Ostrich Syndrome.

And there’s no sticking my head in the sand, no more ostrich syndrome. 

We’ve been away at my Pet scan, which was a bit of a gong show to get to.  We took the wrong train, but still ended up at the right place at the right time.  I have to say that the Canada-Line reminded me very much of being in New York…it distracted me for a little bit.

The Scan was from what I can see uneventful, although I was told I wouldn’t be getting my results until after my first round of chemotherapy….Which I was hoping they would forget about.   They didn’t forget.

After the scan we made our way to Abbotsford to meet up with the Raichuk family and gather our daughter.  Melissa is officially home for the summer—I am super stoked.

We went to an all you can eat Sushi place to catch up—and then head to the Summit Pacific Grad.  That Grad is stinking awesome, it’s fun and meaningful.  Our adopted daughter Sarah was graduating, Luke, her fiancé was in the choir, Sarah (another one of my kids) was the one running the night, a couple of our kids from our old youth group, Daniel and Josh were graduating from their one year Omega course and the boys are headed off to Thailand today.

We returned very late to our hotel and all fell fast asleep.  This morning arrived FAR too quickly.  We got up and met Kent’s cousin for breakfast and we are now in the ferry line up waiting to go home.  We should be home in 3 hours…..and counting.

The ostrich-syndrome-thing.  On our way to Abbotsford we got the call.  Chemo starts on Tuesday.  I had plans for Tuesday that did not include Chemo—fun things…not chemo things.

So, my hope and prayer is that this is actually over.  The BMB (bone marrow biopsy) was normal, if the Pet Scan is normal, then I can assuredly claim that God has healed me.  Dr. Fitzgerald said that whether the scan and biopsy came back normal or not, I would have to do at least 4 rounds of chemo.  Prophylactically.  So, just to make sure that the cancer is actually gone.

So, I submit myself to her plans, she knows better than I do. 

I have an appointment for my wig on Monday, I am hoping for a “Marilyn Monroe” look, but I am sure that I will chicken out and not do it…but it’s nice to dream….

The Ostrich Syndrome.

I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

There really hasn't been much to talk about.  I am just in a holding pattern waiting for the Pet Scan in Vancouver.

Although, there has been this one issue.

The Ostrich Syndrome.

See, I was told that regardless of what the Bone marrow biopsy and Pet Scan reported, I would have to do chemotherapy starting sometime during the week of April 30th.

So, I haven't heard from the BC Cancer Agency or Dr. Ftizgerald's office.  At. All.  So I haven't decided if I should phone them or not.  See, my theory is, that if God has healed me, it will be apparent on the Pet Scan--then maybe the chemotherapy will be all for not.

Then again, I may be sticking my head in the sand, hoping that the predator will pass.

I will keep you posted.

Are we too dirty for your light to get through?

Friday I met a friend for lunch.  We had talked about having this lunch since our family moved to Victoria in August.  It has taken this long to get our schedules sync'd.

I was a little nervous meeting him, I left a message for Kent that I was meeting Craig and where--knowing Kent would be OK with it all.  (Just in case you are thinking it's highly inappropriate for me to be meeting with a man other than my husband...you'd have to understand the relationship I have with Craig.)

Craig was the first to shave his head in support of me and my cancer diagnosis.  He has always, always had my back.  Always.

At lunch he gave me a hoodie from his company Polar Bear Scuba and a doorag for when my bald head needs covering.  Very, very thoughtful of him.

While we were talking I told Craig I don't care what people believe, I just care about relationships.  I really do feel that is what Jesus would say, I am not sure how the PAOC stands on this.  Looking at one of my longest (in time) friends, who is also an atheist, I think, what would Jesus do?

I don't argue creationism vs evolutionism, I don't argue the right to life vs pro-choice, or feminism, because I know what I believe and a lot of it takes faith.  Something that I can't argue except that you can't argue what I have seen, heard and experienced.  And that is a lot of how God has moved in my life.

I have experienced healing in my life, watched as Kent's leg grew a number of inches and the pain in his ankle and leg erased.  I have just in these past months experienced a supernatural healing from the pain of the cancerous growth that was once in my leg.

Before I went home--I did a 6.4 km walk along the ocean.  I was listening to Shaun Groves -- I love his words.  He sang, "do you speak through the imperfect?  Are we too dirty for your light to get through?

I wonder about this, that maybe I should be taking a stand and saying something against these views?  Is it wrong just to love people for where they are at?

The beginning of the song starts with:

Walking with you is not without hazards, trippings this travelers curse,
Price paid for falling is more than my stumble, in a world that is watching and waiting for words.
But I listened when you said to go, and set out despite of my fears,
about truth mixed with my imperfection, and the question of what to say when I got here.

When I got home, I got busy on Pinterest.com and I found this:

It is all so interesting to me how all these things fall into place.  The discussion with Craig, the walk,  Shaun Groves the posting on Pinterest.

Obviously, I am still processing--often when I process, I do it in quiet.  I hermit.  Last time I did that, a person called me on it.

I want to be transparent.  I am not sure where to go with this, what my conclusion of this will be--I just know that I am in a process of sanctification and in the end--I will figure it out.

For now, I understand, right now, love is where it's at.  Yes, I can argue out creationism, scientifically, biblically, but is it really my job to argue it out?

As far as I understand, I am to debate with Christians, not non-believers, like iron sharpens iron.

All scripture is God-breathed and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness. II Timothy 3:16

D'Oh!

I completely forgot to add this to my last post, there was just so much to say.

While at the Doctor's office she asked to see my scar, to check on healing.  It's fine, really, I am finding that my leg will go blue if I am cold...but other than that, no worries.

I reminded her that when I was in to see the medical oncologist we felt a remnant of lump in my leg--Dr. Fitzgerald said it could be residual cancer, or scar tissue, she couldn't really be sure.

So, I told the Doctor where it was, she said, what lump?

When I felt the scar, there was no lump.

There was no lump.

God in His infinite wisdom saw to it that Fred is no longer there and neither is the little Fredette that was hanging on.

No more hangers-on.

I thank God for this, I believe it is one more step closer to complete healing.  Like I said in my previous post, in the beginning of all this, I cried out to God to let this pass from me.  Now, I can say, I am thankful for this process--it is an amazing ride.

Matthew 19:26

Jesus looked to them and said, "With man this is impossible but with God all things are possible."

Overwhelmed.

I started my day today with someone commenting that my posts on facebook weren't as "spiritual" as of late, that they were hoping that I was not starting to walk this out on my own strength.

I'm not.  In fact, my first post today was what I had been wrestling with since yesterday.  A song by one of my favourite artists, Shaun Groves called Welcome Home.

Shaun Groves - Welcome Home

It starts, "Take me, make me all you want me to be, it's all I'm asking, all I'm asking."  I am in the process of being made in Christ's likeness, in everyway, in everday, I am striving to be more Jesus-like.  It's not easy, there are days that are harder.  Like the days when I let my guard down even the most slightly, gives ground to Satan to work in me.  Sometimes, I just want a day off--but it's just not worth it.  I know it very well.

So, Lord, come inside this heart of mine, its not my own, make it home, welcome home.

That conversation lead me to a thought.  How thankful I am that people are willing to say, hey, how are you?  Those who are willing to ask the hard questions, take the tough answers.  To help me prune myself so that I become more like God, little by little.

Which lead me to another thought--and I found myself at a complete loss.  It began the day that would be earmarked by the amount of tears I shed......

I have a friend who, as he is aging is becoming more and more bitter.  I was driving in my car to my first Doctor's appointment of the day and I was overcome -- praying for him.

Kent said that he feels that if someone can talk to him and have him listen -- it would be me.  I am not sure about that but I am willing to do whatever it takes for him to see how stiff-necked and fearful he has become.

Again, I was thankful for maintaining my moldability.  If that is a word.  Thankfully I am not becoming moldy as I age.  I was just sorrowful for how narrow his life is becoming as he is cutting out this and that in an all out effort to avoid God--which is going to turn into severing relationships--without him ever knowing.

As I went into the Doctors office, I had a quick call with my parents and then cried a little.  I can tell you the skin under my eyes is raw from tears today.

I saw my Family Doctor today, got an injection--and asked about my Bone Marrow Biopsy (BMB) results.  I knew that I had asked too much already, and told her I was willing to make another appointment.  She said not to worry--she wanted to go over it with me--she was concerned about it.

Ugh.

It turns out that I don't have ANY CANCER in my bone marrow, not even the beginning stages of cancer!  Nothing!

I giggled.

She said, I know you like to laugh at these things, but this is serious, you have some serious questions to be asking.

I explained to her that the Medical Oncologist had said that I will need to do 4 rounds of chemotherapy, regardless of the outcome of the BMB (and Pet Scan) unless it comes back positive.    If it comes back positive I could be adding 2-4 rounds of chemotherapy.

Did you happen to catch  what I said, THERE WAS NO CANCER FOUND.

I can't tell you how I was feeling when I left the office, I have adopted the routine of diffusing and walking off my Doctors appointments.

Today, I chose to go to Clover Point and walk the dog park with Pippin.

As I walked the sidewalk up out of Clover Point, I was just overwhelmed.  I started to cry.  I am so thankful--so overwhelmed with gratefulness.

I know that this cancer is not just mine--but rather its my family's, it's much church's it's God's--to use for His honour and His glory.

I walked 4 km--in the sunshine with the warm wind on my face.  Just spending time praising God for his goodness and His answer to so many peoples prayer.

Next up was the Heart Function test at Victoria General Hospital.  Not a problem.  I watched as my heart beats registered on the screen, praying with each beat that I will be used to glorify God in a continued way.

At home, I called a couple people to let them know what was up, and there were tears.  Again.  In the beginning of all this, I prayed over and over again that God would see to let this pass from me.  He could instantaneously heal me--but now as I have been walking this through I am coming more and more to the conclusion that I wouldn't want it any other way.  I am grateful and honoured that God has given this trial to me, it is birthing and growing things in me that I didn't know I had.  God knew--He wanted to prove it to me.

The overwhelmed statement isn't a negative.  In fact, while walking out of Clover Point--I was overwhelmed with God's faithfulness, His goodness.

Do not be anxious for anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  Phil 4:6

More Cate Blanchette less Helmet Hair.

There are points along this journey that I have witnessed people unable to form words.  At times, when people find out about my diagnosis I have had to be the one to comfort rather than be comforted or assured.

My sister Lanette was so great at forming this into words for me.  She has been a rock for me in this journey, when words fail me or I am not sure what to think, she pulls the thoughts from me, gets me talking and helps me form a frame around what I am really thinking.  She didn't let anything boil under the surface.  She'd see it in me and say, "Do you have a question?"  "What are you thinking?"

When I was meeting with the Medical Oncologist she said, "You *will* lose your hair."

When I heard that I decided I should cut my hair.  Shortly after coming home from New York City I cut the length almost in half.  I thought, if I lose a handful of hair, if it's 6 inches long rather than 2 feet, it would look like less--a way to psych myself out...or in.  I am not sure.

Today, I went another step further and cut it again.  I took this picture from online and went into the shop--ready to lose more hair:

 

I would love to say it looks like this but it doesn't it looks like this:

Ok, not quite like that, but you get the idea.  The hairdresser didn't dry my hair completely, then she put all kinds of goop on it, by the time I got home I had an afro.  Seriously round and curly.  I tried my best to "fix" it--but it was useless.

While she was cutting my hair she asked me why I needed such a change.  She has seen me through the past 3 haircuts in 2 months.  So, I told her my theory.

She then said, "My mother and sister died of cancer."

I replied....cricket.......cricket...What the heck do you say to that?

I am sorry to hear of your loss.

You've scared me to death.

Seriously, thank you for the reassurance.

Once again, thrust into the role of one filled with compassion, care, concern, listening.  Gah!  Where's Lanette when I need her!

I would love to say that I came up with some wisdom or great word of reassurance, but I was seriously dumb-struck.

Then, I started to see the funny in all this....

It's not all about me.  I would love for it to be all about me, very little of my life has been all about me (save the teenaged years).

The fact is this cancer isn't mine.  It's Kent's, Melissa's, Max's, our family and friends and EACH and every single person I share this information with.  Sometime, hopefully soon, I will grasp this concept and not be so startled that people want to share their stories with me.

The hairdresser wasn't being selfish, she was being honest--and she did a really crappy job on my hair.  I miss Annick Gabruch.

A Mother Scan

I have said before I need to laugh my way through this cancer thing.

So, last week I had a voice mail from an M.O.A. (medical office assistant) and it said I was being booked for "a Mother Scan"

I know, really?  What?  I am an M.O.A., I thought I knew most of what us ladies need to know, but I had never heard of a Mother Scan.

I called the office to say I would be able to be there on the date and time--but what's the exam?  She repeated, A Mother Scan.

I said, "A Mother Scan?"

Laughter--from the M.O.A. that slowly subsides into giggles.  No, a MUgate Scan.

Oh.

A sense of humour would do you good.

What a day.

Lanette and I were up "early" and were at the Cancer Clinic for our Chemo Classes.  I was wrong, I won't be able to give Chemo now that the class is done, but rather I can receive it.

We were the last ones to arrive at the very tiny conference room, Lanette says to me, let's play a game.  Let's try to figure out who is having chemo and who is the caregiver.  I am in.  We were given coffee and tea--took our seats....and then it started.

The volunteer states, "Horie?"

At the exact same time Lanette and I say, "We're here."  You see, we didn't want to give our position--chemo or caregiver, just in case someone else was playing our game.  The weird thing is--we didn't discuss this strategy.  We are winning already!

The woman starts the class, as everyone leans in.  She is talking SO quietly, none of us can really hear her.  Then she says, "does anyone have any questions?"

I thought, "yes, can you repeat that?"

Lanette says, "I have a question, can you turn off the fan?"

Above us, somewhere a fan was overly squeaky, noisy and disruptive.  It was completely distracting me.  I had figured the two people across from me a woman in pink and a man in black were chemo patients, without caregivers....I was right, but the fan was annoying--it was definitely throwing off my game.

I look over and Lanette is taking diligent notes.  I looked around the room and each person there looked like they were sucking on lemons.  I understand this is tough, I get it, but if you don't have a sense of humour this is going to be a really tough time.

My Medical Oncologist told Kent and me, keep laughing.  So we plan on it.

Then the volunteer is getting a DVD ready.  They have the DVD on, TV on, but we couldn't hear anything -- then the jackhammer started on the wall behind us.  OK, at this point, Lanette and I snickering....

Then a woman stands up and walks over to the TV and turns up the volume.

Again, stifled laughter from the Fricker girls.

The man in black across the table says, "I like you--you have spunk."

Ya, it's a family trait.

So the DVD is enlightening.  The nurse informative.  Then the volunteer is back--we were wishing for a volume button on her.

She took us for a tour.  When she takes us to the chemo room.  She states, only the patients can go in, Lanette, not wanting to give her position in our twosome away and the fact that she has come all this way -- she isn't going home without a peek.

So the volunteer takes us in, I whisper to Lanette, "patient confidentiality." We were staring at a room full of  patients, all looking at each other--I am thinking WHAT?  Next thing I know my sweater is being pulled and the volunteer is pulling me back.  She was whispering No, no, no, don't go in there....well, if someone could hear her...they wouldn't go in there!  She said take a peek, I was!

Next she took us to see the woman who does hair.  She wasn't there, but Lanette and I are not to be deterred we went in for another peek.

The amazing thing about the BC Cancer Agency in Victoria, the staff has been amazing.  Kind, considerate, compassionate.  Except for the wig lady.

She was irritated, condescending, rude, and intolerate.  Now, I would love to say that I am full of patience and tolerance...but when she got all snotty I do what I do best.  I asked more questions.  I am not sure if Lanette had the same attitude as I did, but I was there JUST to irritate her.  I really believe my sister wanted information.....I wanted to annoy her.

When we left the Cancer Agency Lanette said to me, let's shake that off.  She was right.  We needed to rid ourselves of her attitude.

As we were walking to the car, I moaned.  I saw a parking ticket on my car.  Then, we got to the car and realized not just one parking ticket but two!

Arghh!

That called for coffee downtown at Mirage....and a cookie.

The afternoon we had an appointment for an injection for the shingles vaccine.  It seems to me that I get one appointment done the Doctors add one more.  Today was the same.  Now I have an appointment this next week for a heart test called and ejection fracture.  The Medical Oncologist wants to make sure my heart can handle the chemo, and have a baseline for my continued treatment.  With that done, I was done.

We came home, and made dinner, we have debriefed Kent about the day.

Tomorrow Lanette leaves, probably the last time I will see her until the summer.  I am not sure I will be able to go to Edmonton to help her with medical stuff Chris is facing.  That's a huge disappointment for me.  I loved the trip to Edmonton, I liked being the Auntie that made the effort to see her niece and nephew.  I know that I will see them in the summer--and that we will all be able to relax together.

That is a consolation.

Easy Peasy

In the words of the wonderful Dawn Block: Easy Peasy.

Not that I ever want to have to do that again, it was absolutely the worst mostly because of what I had envisioned; but easy.

I had a little meltdown last night, we went to the movie The Hunger Games, basically for me to get my mind off of what I was facing.

Once home, I was nervous, anxious, jittery.  I laid in bed and the tears came.

This morning I went to the airport to pick up my sister, we had coffee at Starbucks, picked up Kent from work and headed to Royal Jubilee Hospital.

First stop was the lab, my new friend Alex was there, he was there to take 2 vials of blood for a study that is happening--that I agreed to participate in.  I decided that if I could help someone else going through all this I would......I stopped counting at 6 vials of blood, looked away--it was too much to see, the floppy butterfly lolling around in my vein -- moving this way and that.....ugh.

Next stop was the special hematology lab where I was going to have the bone marrow biopsy.  I guessed that Alex showed up to the lab to get his vials of blood.  I guess that he was there for 2 reasons:  1.  I would've gotten lost.  2.  I probably wouldn't have shown up.

We watched a man hobble out of the bone marrow biopsy room and I am not exaggerating when I say this.  He HOBBLED out of the room.

The assistant called me in and said I could have 1 person with me.  So, Lanette, my sister stayed out and Kent went in with me.

I sat on the edge of the bed and they called Dr. Xu in.  (Dr. Shooo).  He said that he wanted a break..the last guy gave him a blister on his hand, his bone was so tough.

Dr. Xu came in and sat with me and went over the procedure.  He showed me the blister the last guy gave him.....I signed the consent form and he asked me to lay down on the bed.

As I laid there, I looked at Kent, who was holding my hand.  The emotion started.  I was holding it all in when I began to recite in my head Psalm 121.  The tears began, Dr. Xu asked if I was ok, which I was, I just couldn't talk.

I began to feel peace.

What I didn't know was my sister was on the other side of the door, she texted "She's just gone in" to her 4 most faithful friends and family members to pray.  As well, friends all over the world were praying.

I can say, with utmost honesty, I don't want to have to ever, EVER do that again, but I know that I was not walking that alone.

When the procedure was over, Dr. Xu asked me if I wanted to "see".  Now if you know anything about me, the answer is yes.

He showed me the needles, the biopsy instruments, the slides, the actually bone marrow he had harvested.  All of it so interesting, but next time I am there, I want to be someones support, rather than the patient.

One of my concerns has been pain control.  Since this has all started I have had to detox twice.  My ability to become "addicted" to pain killers is as easy as some people become addicted to sugar.

I know that my friend Sandy has been praying for a painless day.  I can say, with great honesty, I have had a pain-free day.  Completely and totally.

God is good.  He has been so faithful in this -- I wish that I had the ability to completely in faith rely on Him.  I am learning.  I have grown in such amazing ways through this so far.  Going through all this has not been easy, but what I am getting out of this in personal, spiritual and emotional growth has all been worth it.

Up next: Pet Scan.

I have 2 dates to choose from April 16th which could mean a weekend in Vancouver with Kent or April 27th -- we will already be going to Vancouver for the Summit Pacific Graduation.

Decisions, decisions.

Mmmmmmurchie's

We went to the Interdenominational Good Friday service at Pearkes Arena.  It was such a really great service they did a really great job not just incorporating the different "types" of churches that were there, but also a great job covering the generations.

I got to see a couple people I haven't seen in a while including my cousin Debbie.

Then in the evening we went to youth at Colwood.  A part of me will always long to be in youth ministry.  It's odd to be there--it's not Emmanuel--but it was exciting at the same time.

The kids at Colwood are super sweet, kind, they behaved for an hour and 45 minutes of teaching--I don't think that could have happened at Emmanuel.  20 minutes the EC kids start to fidget, poke each other harass each other......

The teens texted questions to the panel--we responded.  It was a great time of unity rather than parents vs teens.

Lots was discussed, a lot of familial issues--I think some really great ground was broken.

It was also a great distraction for this week--I am not looking forward to this week at all--the bright point in my week is my sister is coming again from Edmonton to be with me for the bone marrow biopsy and my "chemo" lessons.  It will be a great time of being with my big Sister.

Maybe I can convince her we should go to Murchie's again for tea....mmmmmurchie's.

The Plan

d I met with the Medical Oncologist today.  What a ton of information!  Kent took notes and I just cracked jokes.  We all have our giftings....mine is not notes...

So, the Dr sat in front of me and said, "how are you?"

Immediately I was in tears.  The brave front washed away and I was left bare to be honest and truthful.  The best part of this moment--I was starring into the eyes of my friend Dee.  Dee and I have known each other forever--and Dr. Fitzgerald was just like hanging out with Dee.  It made me feel comfortable and at ease.  She had amazing bed-side manner exactly like I would expect my beautiful friend.

So, Dr. Fitzgerald said it is an aggressive form of cancer.  It is birthed in the bone marrow along with the red and white blood cells and then moves about the body.  So we can't hit it with radiation in one location--we will have to do chemo.

So the plan is set -- we are underway.

Next week, April 10 I will have a bone marrow biopsy.  This is not for anything more than for interest sake--it seems.  They want to see how extensive this is.  The bone marrow biopsy could add 1-2 rounds of chemo to the plan.

The following week I will be off to Vancouver to have a PET Scan.  They will shoot me up with radioactive stuff and then see where in my body the scan "lights up" and we will then know how extensive the cancer is, the brain lights up--not because its full of cancer, but rather it's an active body part....and I can tell you....right now, it's VERY active.

The following week after that, we have decided that we will start chemotherapy.  I asked for the treatment to take into consideration 2 weddings that we will be going to in June.  I may be bald, but there is nothing holding me back from going!

Then, every 3 weeks, I will go in for chemo for the next 4 months--possibly 6.

I guess in order to get better I have to get sicker first.  I can't say I am looking forward to this except that I know that this will be a time of refining.  Purifying.

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Sigh.

I just finished my "homework" for the BC Cancer Agency.  It wasn't tough, but going through that I can see that I have a ton to be thankful for.  I have a network of support, great family to lean on, wonderful kids and an amazingly supportive husband.

Kent and I were talking last night and I am seeing the stress is starting to make us a little snappy with each other.  We both feel its each others fault--of course.  I am just reacting to you being short with me.  I think we need some time to ourselves.  More than just an hour we catch here and there....

The truth is we are entering a point in this where it could get really scary and overwhelming, the appointment we have tomorrow is with the Medical Oncologist.  We will find out staging, treatment plan, and my specific path through this....according to the Oncologist.

I called today and lodged a complaint with regard to the person who originally called me.  As I was reading my homework, I was seeing that she didn't have a clue what she was talking about OR the welcome package isn't telling me the truth...

I will find out tomorrow what the whole truth is--I felt from the beginning the woman from the BCCA was just trying to intimidate me, scare me, or just flaunt the power she has always had over me.

I am such a doormat.

Beauty in the Broken...

Credits to Starfield for the title of the blog today.

I am finding not only the beauty in the broken, but this week more importantly the beauty of mundane.  The run-of-the-mill normalness that I took for granted so much in Kelowna.

I loved my job in Kelowna.  I looked forward to everyday that I worked with Bernie and Elsie.  I know now the treasure I had and the camaraderie of true team work, without borders or hierarchy.  Last week, lazing around the house, I was longing for the normal of life.

I have gotten myself into quite a routine here, walking with Pippin or running alone (I can’t run with Pippin, he doesn’t run in a straight line….but he is amazing at being underfoot).  Baking, cooking, cleaning, going to church at Colwood and working at the Royal Jubilee Hospital.

Since January, I haven’t been able to run, last week, my parents didn’t want me to do the stairs.  It’s amazing what a week out of routine can do to a person’s head and frame of mind.

I was slowly going stir-crazy and didn’t even know it.

This week, has been all about getting back to the normal.

I have been walking, working, baking, cooking, cleaning, shopping and prepping my house for more visitors.  It is all so exciting and stimulating.  I hope I never forget how amazing it is to truly have my life back to something that resembles normal—and not get caught up in living unconsciously or despising my life for its mundane normalcy.

I was caught off guard today when opening my mail I got a “welcome package” to the BC Cancer Agency.  It was bright and shiny and I had all but forgotten what I was still facing.  How. Could. That. Be?    The terror of last week, the worry, and the frustration was all gone and I had all but forgotten what I still had to face….in 2 days.

I couldn’t believe it.

So right now, I am sitting at my desk, in charge of the floor (in charge of the guy who trained me…) and loving every minute of it.  The mundane of it, the boring of it, the hierarchy, the beaurocracy, (we are supposed to be headed to strike soon), and yet I am so thankful for all of it.

Bizarre, I know.

On the cancer front—I have my leg back, no bruising, no swelling and more importantly no Fred.  I have an appointment on Thursday to meet with my Medical Oncologist who will go over “everything” with me.  I am slowly making a list of questions to ask; my first will be about the bone marrow biopsy—is it really necessary?

I stole. No biggie.

I called for my own CT results.  Depending on who you talk to...I may or may not have done something wrong.

There is the camp that believes that a patient has a right to her own medical records, there is also the camp that believes it should be transferred from Doctor to Doctor.  I know that the latter is correct.

I had my CT done March 27 and was told I would know my results  in 48 hours.  I couldn't wait any longer so I called myself yesterday and got them faxed to my office at Royal Jubilee Hospital.

Brilliant.

I read the report today as far as I can see, all is good.  It didn't say that the cancer had spread.  Whew, God is good.

Then, on my way home from work today, ICBC called.  Remember the car accident I had last week?  Well, it would seem that ICBC owes me money.  For having a car accident.

Huh?

The first thing that popped into my head:

.....and not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and  character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.  Roman 5: 3-5


I don't get it--except that God already knew....I don't have all the details except that they have said it's 50/50 at fault.  I should have more accidents if it means they'll give me money!