Here is it, the long awaited blog about Colonoscopy's

It has taken me a long time, to both muster up the courage to write a blog about colonoscopy's, and to put my dignity aside for this important public service announcement, so bare with me - ha, no pun intended.  If you are booked for your first colonoscopy, I apologize in advance, you may be scared shitless (pun intended), but if you are like many, who really don't display any symptoms or present with a reason to have a scope, but your age is creeping near 50, your time will come.  There isn't one person reading this who won't someday be faced with this wonderful procedure (and by wonderful I do mean life saving - yet embarrassing, kill me know type of procedure).

For those who don't want to know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, better stop reading;  and for my friends, or perhaps moreso the people who really don't know me, I am about to share WAY TOO MUCH information!  But I figure if I can talk about newborn shit, talk about shit samples, surely I can get my words on this blog and tell you about clearing out shit and having a tube and a camera in spots no tube and camera should be...see, too much info, but hell, you could google, worse, you could YouTube it.

Here we go, I dare say I am an expert in the "Art of Scopes", September 19th marked my 6th scope of varying types all before the age of 40.  When you visit the "scope clinic" and the secretary and all the nursing staff know you, it is a sign you are there way too much.  If you can imagine, the secretary even recalled Mom, but said, "I didn't remember your Mom giving me a 1-800 # before to reach her at"...sigh, can we say frequent flyer.  This visit, I even headed straight for the cabinet with the gowns and before she finished all the instructions, I was off to my "regular" changing room and seat.  But I must back up (lord, there are going to be way too many jabs I can make during this post, please note I am not meaning to do that, just happens)...I need to discuss the PREP.

When you hear a patient who has experienced a scope, and they say the PREP is the worse part of the procedure, believe them.  There is really no comparison, the preparation day(s) are much, much worse than the actual procedure, granted, you are usually so drugged you don't realize you are having the procedure, hence the reason it is a walk in the park.

Now there are different kinds of preps, some  are better than others and it definitely depends on your Dr, if you here Go Lightly (while not spelled this way, it sounds like this)...you will NOT be going lightly, you will be parking your ass on the toilet for an entire day and wishing you had a baby around with diaper rash cream...there are drinks that taste like chalk, mixed with vomit, also NOT good, but my last two preps I had the "delightful" Pico-Salax, or for $4.00 cheaper the generic brand of Purg-Odan...at the end of the day, they are all the same thing, just different consistencies, rules, taste...they all do the same thing - clean the colon (aka, deflate your body of more liquid and shit than you thought possible).  Now, why I can "handle" the Pico Salax, it is an orange flavoured drink, fizzy, and just mixed with a half glass of water, you have to drink 8 glasses of water with each sachet, most will have to take 2, but some 3.  This of course goes in your body after you have starved for 12-24 hours.  While the flavour is appreciated after no food, and beats the chalky / vomit tasting drink, you will want to steer clear of oranges for the foreseeable future, as it will bring back flashbacks.  Now they call this the test prep, but this is no high school folks, there is no test, no quiz at the end of the day, this prep is preparing you for a long night of bathroom visits, instant grumbling in the belly and oh joy, the big exam!

So here are the details (I will spare you all of the details and try to maintain an ounce of dignity, but you can fill in the blanks)...I will say, if I was writing this after my first scope, I'm sure I would have a few more traumatic events to share, but now that I'm a pro scoper, I know what to expect, which drink I prefer and almost can relax (almost).

- After starving, you mix your first delicious drink, think Sex on the Beach (the drink people, the drink)...I prefer my prep drink on the rocks, tall glass with a fun umbrella, but to each their own.  While it isn't a huge glass you have to drink, it isn't something you can chug either, but about 5 gulps and it is gone.  USE ice though, warm orange fizzy drinks are not recommended.

- Then you wait.   And Wait....  And Wait.  Everyone is different, and each prep drink is different, some drinks work within minutes and you will want to set up camp either outside the bathroom door, or rest in the bathtub so you can jump to the toilet at a moments notice, but the Pico Salax strangely takes its time.  Now, I wouldn't suggest working on prep day, as you really don't know, but it can take a few hours to really "kick in - and out".  Now, having crohns (here comes the too much info), bathroom visits are a part of my life, but I can imagine someone who is not use to this fast action, would get quite the surprise.  It does happen though, the gurgles start in your belly and you move ever so closer to the bathroom, then you do a mad dash, holy lord, I think I just lost 5 pounds!  And this continues, 5 lbs, 10lbs, 15lbs...okay, perhaps not that extreme, but for those parents, do you remember when your baby power puked for the first time (spit up for those parents without an alien baby like we had)...and you panicked and called the nurse and said to the nurse, "my baby just threw up the entire bottle", and she said, "no, it was probably just 1/8th of the bottle"...well, it is probably like that, so lets say you lose a lb of shit each visit to the bathroom...it is a good weight loss plan, trying to squeeze in to that dress for an upcoming event, head to the drug store for a little Pico Salax - or buy Spanx, the other weight deceiving product!  No need to explain each and every bathroom trip, but you will no doubt think you can't possibly have anything left in you, your 8 glasses of water surely are long gone and the food you ate when you were 10 is long gone, lord, even the gum you swallowed in class that the teachers said would stay in your system for 50 years has made its way out...you are clean...this goes on for approx 3-6 hours...and great news, the day of the procedure, you get to do it again.

Just remember

Gurgling = get ready
Bubbles = move closer to the bathroom
Gurgling / Bubbles / Pain = run, you are about to explode!

Now, if your house is like mine, you have not enjoyed going to the washroom alone since your child arrived, hell, in my house, I haven't been to the bathroom alone since the cat and dog arrived that would be 10 years, but this is one time you kick them all out - this is a scene, and noise that no other human needs to witness, be a part of, unless you really hate them and want them to have nightmares for the next 12 months.  And when I mentioned diaper cream - I'm not too far off...you will greatly appreciated baby wipes....toilet paper just won't cut it, after your 20th visit to the bathroom you just want to wear a diaper soaked with Vaseline, this is also the time when you start to think, I can have clear liquids, Vodka is a clear liquid, I think I need an f'n Vodka!

So, you make it through the prep - it is like passing your Driver's License on the first try, you suffered through the test, the prep and now you are in the home stretch...you will be overjoyed, the worse is over with!  Really, I promise.  All you have to suck up now is complete embarrassment, sharing way too much information, realizing the Dr and Nurse will see more of you than any other human being every will or should...but you will get through it.

You head to the hospital, proud that you have lost 5 lbs and have a squeaky clean colon, bet you always wished for that accomplishment and the staff are all respectful and professional.  These ladies and men talk shit for a living, ask some of the most personal questions out there and in the process make you realize that you are just another ass...I wonder if they go home at night and say, I had a real ass on the table today...just a thought!  I know a lot of asses, I dare say when their ass gets on the table their true colors will shine through and the Dr will say this quote (hell, I think I will ask at my next appointment how many asses and "real asses" he has had on the table).  Okay, so back to the hospital, you have to show up an hour before your procedure, get admitted for your procedure and get prepped for the procedure, this involves doing a lengthy questionnaire with the nurse, you know the normal questions, do you have any piercings, metal clips, dentures, oh, they do nurse things too - blood pressure, what do you know, mine has spiked, 80/75, IV started, bravo to the nurse this past visit, first try and no squirting blood - I'm usually not that lucky and lord knows I was dehydrated.  She then brings you a warm blanket and you wait your turn...Again, at least in my experiences here in Charlottetown, they have all been lovely, my "usual" scope nurse arrives and says, "you are not here again", I explained that I just love visiting them so much and want to ensure they all had job security - sadly, I am probably really helping out their profession.  You will be wheeled down to the procedure room, while not an operating room, it kind of is, but this one has camera's, oh yes, just to make sure you feel totally uncomfy, there is the big screen TV, and all the tubes and cameras to the side...yes folks, your colon will be flashed on the big screen for all to see, they even take a video, now, they haven't offered it up for sale, but perhaps I should ask!  I mean, they sell dance recital video's, surely the colonoscopy video is just as exciting!  The Dr comes in, in my case, Dr Clark, who starts off by saying, "do you have any questions, and don't ask me if you are going to die, you won't" - he has been my Dr for too long and knows me too well, I deep down know I'm his favorite patient, but I dare say I have asked the man 500 times if I will die and if so, when.  He then asks me about my shopping trip (another sign I see him way too much). we start talking about New Hampshire shopping, I'm lying on my side (oh yes, that is what they will do, heart monitor, oxygen, IV and on your side you go), I faintly remember telling him I always feel better in NH and then I am out.  Now, I get lots of drugs, having been awake for one scope and able to watch the entire procedure and seeing what my colon looks like proved to be a tad too much on my first visit, so now, the nurse asks the Dr how much sedation and he says LOTS!  And I say, LOTS AND LOTS.  That is my recommendation, drift off to dreamland, hell, Greta is up 6 nights out of 7 these days, this may have been my best hope at a deep sleep, I was taking it.

The next thing you know, you are in the recovery room, the blood pressure cuff tightening every 5 minutes and I faintly hear the nurses say her pressure is dropping, yet I hear another nurse say, it dropped a lot during the procedure, so 50 is coming up...not good, but I'm alive...made it through the prep, the procedure, and....wait, what is this, there is a rule...and a difficult rule for some, perhaps a fun one for others...but not I...this is worse than having a camera moving through my body ... during the procedure they pump you full of air, lots of it...and that air must come out.  The rule is, you don't get to leave recovery until you expel that air...now, nothing like the farting orchestra that is playing in the scope recovery room, but yikes, that is horrendous, worse, you hear the nurses talking, "did he fart yet, did you hear if she expelled gas yet"...kill me now.  Being the dignified gal I am, I always ask to go the bathroom, of course, I am so stoned, I can't walk nor see, but my stomach is going to explode, I need two nurses to carry me to the washroom and they don't want to leave you, so they stand outside the door, holding the damn door knob and continuously open the door to see if you have passed out, and they keep their ear to the door to ensure the air starts to disappear, guess they are worried your colon will explode!  So, that is it...easy as riding a bike!  You have officially earned another day off work, as you are so stoned you come home and sleep the rest of the day, eventually you want to try food, because you have now gone 48 hours plus with no solid food, the thought of oranges, soup broth or jello makes you want to vomit and like all great patients, you start to crave McD's...yes, it is true...

Oh yes, almost forgot, while they are doing the scope, they remove polyps if they see any (pre-cancerous lesions or growths), in my case, they also take biopsies to see what degree my crohns is in, and then you wait for a few weeks for your follow up.  I have been fortune thus far to have cancer free scopes, just received my latest colon cancer free status yesterday at 5pm, but it is a worry, everyone isn't so lucky.  While they say you don't have to have your first scope until 50, don't take a chance, if you have any concerns, worries, get in, early detection can save your life, sadly, I have lost some of the most amazing people to colon / bowel cancer, and medical advances have come a long way...put the embarrassment to the side, and get your ass on that table.  It will be over before you know it and hey, you lose a few lbs, just do it!

This is my October 2013 public service announcement, signing off for now - Toodles!

What to write, what to say, what to do....

I can no longer make excuses for not writing, it is not that I don't enjoy writing a blog post, but lately, laziness, lack of creativity, lack of energy all join forces and I have gone months again without writing a post.  Certainly not for a lack of topics, while our life may not be overly exciting, I am sure I had enough things to poke fun at or discuss.

But where to start...ummm.

Greta

• Greta had an amazing time during our August holiday to Maine and New Hampshire, and I think Darren and I both can say it was a successful trip.  While I usually go to shop til you drop, this trip was more about Greta, mixed with a little bit of shopping.  She actually proved to be a very good shopping partner, no Lisa or Renilda mind you, but still, very impressive for three.  Doesn't hurt that if she touched something I bought it for her, but that isn't the point, we all know she is spoiled beyond reason, she didn't have any meltdowns, no embarrassing moments, she didn't point out the "friends of Walmart" worthy patrons and make a comment like, "Mommy, why is that man wearing a bra and see through top at Walmart", phew, would hate to embarrass a customer like that....overall, she gets a gold star in my books.  

•  The highlight of the trip by far was Storyland, a mini Disney (well, very much MINI) but to a three year old, it may have been the real deal.  I was equally impressed.  It is a theme park with storybook characters, the main attraction, the pumpkin coach ride that took us up to Cinderella's castle, where Cinderella greeted us, she was almost leaping out of the Coach, I had the camera ready to snap a pic of her running up to her idol and wrapping her little arms around her legs and not letting go, that however wasn't quite the scene.  It was more, "come on Greta, other boys and girls want to see Cinderalla, this is your chance"...this comment as she has her arms wrapped around my knees, so alas, we got the picture, with me hugging Cinderella with a terrified Greta in my arms.  Thankfully, she still says this was the best part of her summer, so in her eyes, I take that to mean she hugged her!  We did have to do the Coach a few times!  Despite being shy, she really loved watching the other kids, danced in the aisles at the musical shows, loved the circus acts and is a ride junkie.  Mommy, not so much, lets just say, there is no need for this Mommy to go on a Whale Ride that bounces up and down, while it was adorable to hear her giggle and grin ear to ear, when you almost upchuck post ride as the kids all run around saying lets do it again, you feel like a tool! 

• We really tried to make the best out of the summer, I don't think there was one weekend that we sat still,  there was always a great event on the Island, or a place to discover, we didn't make it to the beach much, but when we did go she loved it, my ass is still trying to recover from the Belfast Corn Maze ride in the barrels, ironically just yesterday when I picked Greta up from the sitter we were taking a back road to home that is an extremely bumpy dirt road and she said, "Mommy, this is just like that bumby barrel ride where your bum got hurt, my bum didn't get hurt"...no joke, that is because she was sitting on me!  I took the brunt of the pain!  Still a great adventure.

• We were swimming lots, soccer was a fairly successful sport, she at least spent more time on her feet than sitting in the grass picking flowers, however she certainly still had her moments.  Greta's dislike for children does sadly continue, she very much likes her personal space and doesn't do well with little ones touching her, even when they are just being loving kids.  We need to work on this, although the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I still remember the karate chop I perfected when people tried to touch my prego bump.  So, I really can't blame her!  Heck, I may even encourage it more.  

• That brings us to the latest activity, while I always sit back in amazement at the kids who are in multiple activities, I just don't have the energy, nor do I feel Greta needs to have a busier social life than I at three years old, so we will be a one activity at a time family...that said, our latest adventure is Step Dance Class.  Talk about cute.  She won't leave the house without a tutu and is doing great listening to the teacher and with such a small class, only 4 (and as of tonight, I hear just 3), I think it will be something enjoyable for her.  Of course, she refused to go this past Sunday because she was afraid of an overly loveable little gal that liked to enter in to her personal space bubble, but you win some and you lose some...Mommy would have made her go, Daddy was home with her and refused to take her when she freaked. 

•  And to finish up the ode to Greta, she is one smart little cookie (although she quickly corrects me when I call her that and says she is a Girl!).  She is learning to count in French (my limited french speaking ability has been passed long, after this, she will have to watch TV), she is a whiz at the computer, iPad, iPhone, sadly, I have to admit, better than I on all the apps, she has learned to spell and type her name and has managed to type in Mickey and Dore in the YouTube Search box to find a video, quite impressive and scary at the same time, thankfully we had them marked as favorites, otherwise who knows what she would have found!  

The Parents

• We are boring and our money all goes to Greta!  Enough said...ha!

• Hockey and football is returned, so while I see Darren's truck in the driveway, I rarely see or talk to him, I did check on him once in the basement to see if he was alive, he was, no rotten smell in the house of a rotting body, so all is good, I suspect I may see him a tad more in the spring!  

• We are in the 40th year countdown, Darren has 22 days remaining until the big 40, I have less than 6 months, seriously, I remember when 40 seemed so old, now I'm thinking, what was all the fuss about...Of course, I may have a break down as it rolls around, so I'll hold out my full thoughts until it is actually here.  But I must say, there is a reason why people should have kids earlier, as 40 year old bones, energy levels, patience levels are not quite that of a 20 something...

• I'm still sick, but I'm still here, hitting my 40th bday was my goal, sad but true.  But I'm surviving somewhat, I'm exhausted, stressed, disguisted, disappointed in too many things to count, but I'm on this side of the ground, so I guess I should shut my mouth.  That said, my invite only funeral list is getting smaller, can't say it enough, nothing like having a kid or being sick to make you realize who matters and who doesn't, and what matters and what doesn't.  My tolerance level is much, much smaller than even a year ago and while I realize I have a rough road ahead, I am thankful for those who have been there with a friendly word, encouragement, positive vibes and sometimes just a hello.  Ha, you made the list!!!!!  Not going to do a sad sappy I'm dying blog tonight, but life really is short, and you just never do know what tomorrow will bring.  

So, that is the blog, nothing too funny, definitely not exciting.  The fish is still alive, 1 year, 1 month and 6 days, it still is my greatest accomplishment of the past 13 months, so that deserves a notable mention in the blog, and I had a great time shopping with two co-workers in Moncton this past weekend, sadly, we collectively bought so much, my stuff is in my Mothers truck in Moncton as there was no room to bring things home, it was just what the Dr ordered (literally, she said I needed a shopping trip - how awesome is that).

All for now, hope I will be back sooner than later, Toodles.  

SHHH, no one wants to hear about this....."The Sample"

This post is dedicated to my dear co-worker and friend Kayla - not because she needs to worry about the topic I am about to enlighten you on, but because we both had an amazing laugh while strangely enough discussing the topic...So Kayla, hope you enjoy!

Do you know what topic has been discussed the most on my blog? I wish I could add a survey or multiple choice question to see who has been paying attention, but here are a few hints - it isn't shopping (I know hard to believe), it isn't how cute Greta is, it isn't even about my fear of motherhood and children...no friends... it is SHIT!  Now, looking back and reading through old blog posts, I have to admit, my experiences with Code Browns were quite plentiful, and traumatic, but I assure you, what I am about to educate you on, and embarrassingly tell you about will make child birth look the most dignified experience of your life (my apologies for anyone who didn't feel a bit of your dignity was shed while giving birth, between that and having the nurses accompany you to the washroom and/or to the shower I have to say, I understand why mothers before me said, you have to leave your dignity at the hospital doors).

So, here we go, lets talk about shit.....Today we had to take Greta to the clinic, and thankfully had a very competent and kind Dr that I was extremely impressed with, he didn't push pills or a quick fix, he listened, very much took his time, was wonderful with Greta and while we don't really have any true answers, I very much appreciated the respect he showed to a hypochondriac freak like me.  Poor little Greta has had a lot of "bathroom issues" going back for a good year now, she was quite fearful of going "number 2" and would hold it for days and days and days, not good as it would then lead to a dreadful experience for all of us.  However the past week + since our visit to NB & the Zoo, she has gone the complete opposite...well, I'm not going to hold back, she has been in the bathroom more than her crohn's suffering mama (and that isn't good for a 25lb little girl who is afraid to go "number 2"), it has been hell.  The poor little thing is so scared at times she is screaming, and diarrhea to a little one is very scary.  While Daddy-O of course thought it was just a little bug or something she ate, I of course was worried...does she have crohns, colitis, oh my goodness, google searches tell me she has cancer.  Needless to say, I was very, very worried, so finally called the Dr today, as we were up half the night in the bathroom with the poor little thing.  Unfortunately our Dr was booked in the AM, so Darren headed to the place I hate almost as much as the ER - the Island medical walk in clinics.  He left at 8am to register her and I met him with Greta at 9:15, the time they told us we would be seen...10:30, I am getting a tad impatient, but finally we get in, and as already mentioned, what a relief, a great Dr, with kids of his own.  Like I said, he didn't prescribe anything, but because of the "history" he is referring her to a pediatrician and ordered STOOL SAMPLES!   AHHHH, stool samples...Now, Greta doesn't know the difference so she won't be embarrassed that I am sharing such stories, but this is when I leave her for a moment and I bravely will offer up what is quite possibly the most embarrassing experience of my life to date (I said quite possibly, as I typed that line I thought of a few other doosies that I just can't quite share), but since I already talked about Squishville (aka, the mammogram) what is a little shit education between friends (oh, and the general public who read my blog - because thanks to some stranger, my blog posts make it to an Island website under bloggers to watch...ha).

So, deep breath, here is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

I am pretty confident people don't really anticipate hearing those words, we need a stool sample...I sadly have heard it one to many times. Having the shit disease (oh, I mean crohns) is traumatic enough, but to then be told you have to give a "sample", well lets just say it may quite possibly be the most dreaded experience of my life.  The most traumatic however came around this time last year, I was on a downward spiral, I was starting to lose weight, I was fighting having to return to prednisone to control my crohns and I had to break down and admit to the specialist that I couldn't live the way I was anymore, I was spending half of my day in a bathroom, I couldn't drink a sip of water without landing in the bathroom, and lets just say, it wasn't pleasant...well, who would have thought I would rather have that pleasant experience back compared to what they "made me do".  My sweet Dr, who is very much ready to retire and has had a life / career full of shit, said very non-chalantly and matter of fact that Karen at the front desk would do up the paper work and set me up for my stool samples.  I was mortified, not only did he state this close to the front desk in front of a packed waiting room, but what, paper work, samples (with an S)....I walked out of the office door and made my way to the desk, where she said it would take a few minutes to write out the instructions and get the labels (again, plural) ready so I could have a seat...lord, kill me now!  I felt as if each person in that room were starring at me, thinking, I know what she is doing tonight, I sat quietly with my head down, unable to make eye contact.  Karen is then ready for me, she calls me by my first name and with her regular voice (not a whisper like I was doing) explains sample #1, as she hands me the jar.  Lets just say they give you a tiny sample jar, it looks like a small pill bottle and what is that in it, a spoon attached to the lid, please, let me die.  I couldn't hold back my horror, how is the hell do you shit in to a pill bottle, and what is the scoop for...oh my lord, it is hitting me, I have to scoop shit, with that tiny little spoon in to the jar, in my house...I want to cry.  Then comes jar two, same size, but this one has some pink solution in it, same little spoon, Karen explains the amount that has to make it's way in to this jar and demonstrates how I have to shake it, and "mix it really well with the solution"...seriously, a packed room and I KNOW THEY ARE ALL LISTENING!  Okay I say, please let this hell be over, but no, oh no, what is coming my way...are you kidding me...it's a bucket.  Perhaps they give out ice cream to make you go the bathroom...oh no, seriously, you have a bucket with a hazardous waste symbol on it and you are handing it to me...kill me now, just remove my bowel, I can't handle any more!

But alas, I now sit, at the counter (a very, very small counter I may add, with other patients within reach of me, and I have two pill bottle sample jars and now an damn bucket in front of me.  I honestly was not prepared for the instructions that came next.  "You have to collect all feces in this bucket for the next 24 hours"....I almost pass out, I am weak at the knees and I am not sure if it was just complete discomfort or myself trying to make a little bit of fun out of this hell, I said, "Karen, you know, I am in the midst of a crohns flare up, I am in the bathroom every 10 minutes, you better given me 10 buckets"...she laughed and said this would be fine.  I should add, this is no little pint size ice cream container, this is a bucket that is to hold a crohn's patients shit for 24 hours!  

Pause for a fact -
Why do Doctors and Nurses and Medical Receptionists say feces? Is there a class at medical school called ‘You can’t say shit or pooh to a Patient’? 

Back to my horror - I want to go home, I want to run, but how, I have a purse with me and there is no friggin way I am walking though a building or down an elevator or stair case with a bucket meant for shit under my arm...Perhaps the 2nd story window is a good option, maybe show me the roof and I will just leap to the truck from there.  I stayed at the desk, I wouldn't move, somewhat trying to hide my new found "friends" for the next 24 hours, I whispered, do you have a brown bag?  She said, she probably has a plastic bag, I hesitantly said that will do.  She packs up my goods and hands me the paper work, gives me instructions on the importance of ensuring the time and dates are recorded and then informs me I have to return it to the specimen collection at the hospital.  I then whispered, how do you collect this (thinking, surely you don't sit on an ice cream bucket), she said, oh, you will need to pick up a hat at the pharmacy.  A hat, what in the hell, what are we talking about, a cowboy hat, baseball hat, she sees my puzzled scared face and says it's a collection hat just to ask for it (more to come on that in a moment)...Now, if you didn't think this was traumatic enough, and you are all thanking your lucky stars you have a fine working colon and no issues with crohns or colitis, it does get worse...oh my, SO MUCH WORSE.

What feels like a lifetime at this counter, my last instruction is still the most shocking, horrifying, kill my dignity please experience - EVER.  I am told the bucket of shit and jars have to be kept in the fridge.  Now, I'm not sure about you, but I have one fridge in my house, didn't realize I would need a Feces Fridge and didn't spring for two.  I said "absolutely not"...she said it must, or I would have to re-do the tests, it had to be refrigerated.  Okay, I have brought a fair amount of interesting things home and can explain a fair amount, but I'm pretty sure having a bucket of shit next to the milk will be an issue in my house.  Perhaps this is the norm in other homes, but NO WAY!  

So, I leave...happily, but with my head down, no eye contact to anyone in the waiting room and rush to the car, I have tears in my eyes by the time I get in the front seat.  I just need to breath before the next task - I need to go find a HAT.  Well, I searched and searched, I am ready for the mental ward, I am NOT ASKING WHERE I CAN FIND A HAT FOR SHIT....but alas, I have to.  Of course, the staff are wonderful, again, like I am just buying a pack of gum, I walk out with my $3 plastic hat....but wait, I need a new fridge!  

Now, while I thought of going to buy a fridge for one time use, I headed to the store for a Styrofoam cooler and bags of ice, no doubt the young guy at the store thought I was off to a fun party - oh boy, was he wrong!  

I get home and have to call Darren - I mean, I don't want him seeing a cooler on the deck and think I stocked it with beer!  Can you imagine that shock.  Let me tell you, there are things you really shouldn't have to talk to your spouse about, top of my list, my need to fill a bucket up with shit!  And then it hits me, I am suppose to be at work, but obviously I am not taking my bucket to work, so I have to call in to my adored boss who was so concerned about me and my health, to inform him that, "I am really sorry, but I have to undergo some testing for the next 24 hours and I won't be in until noon the following day".  As always, he said no problem, hope you feel better!  Lordy I miss him!  Anyway, so, out of work for the day (what a waste of a sick day), and well, lets just say, I did what I was told...as traumatic as it was, I got through it...

BUT, there is more!  Can you believe I am sharing this - because lord knows I can't...but if it helps just one person, then I have succeeded...and I can tell you now (a year later), I can laugh about it!  Therapy helped too!

Now, if the above was not shameful enough, this shit has to be delivered ... to a hospital, on a small island, where history has proven you run in to at least one, if not two people every time you go to the hospital. I package up my "samples", I wrap them in plastic, I check the paper work, as I was warned if it was not recorded properly and the labels and the paper work don't match, it won't be accepted ( you would think my life depended on this quality assurance, but I sure as hell wasn't doing this again).  So, off I go, my bucket o'shit wrapped pretty much in a birthday present style wrap to conceal what was truly in the bag, I park the car and I make that long, long walk to the front door of the hospital, and it hits me, oh my God, I have a friend, who works in the lab, will she have to test my shit.  I am overwhelmed, I want to die, but I can't, because then I will be found with a bag full of crap and my name is on it, I can't die and be talked about the way Islanders do, "did you hear there was this girl, she was delivering shit and passed out and now the hospital is calling her the Shitter".  RIP!  I turn the corner, thank god the specimen collection is now on the first floor, immediately to your right as you walk in the doors...I look at the room, it is packed, this is also where they take blood, all these kind souls waiting for blood tests and I have a bag, I come up to the desk and whisper, I have to drop off a sample, and then it happens....while not yelling, it was loud enough and stern enough to have everyone in the room pay attention, "Hold up, I have one more sample for you to take to the lab"....completely mortified I raise up my bag, a very large shopping bag and the technician hands it over to the person leaving with all the other samples...and there it goes, my crap, in a bucket, along with two little jars leaves my sight.....While I am starving and desperately want to grab a drink and a cinnamon roll, I leave, I think faster than I have ever walked before.  I am so traumatized I call in and take the rest of the day, that was too much.    But it is over and as my mother said, as awful as it was for me, someone has the job to test it....

So, please hug a lab tech today, please don't feel guilty about laughing as I can now share my horror in hopes it will help just one person understand the hell you will go through, but I can write and say you will survive and well...just a little insight in to my day with Greta tomorrow....thankfully no bucket, but we have the "hat" on the toilet and one jar is filled, one more to go.  I will have my plastic gloves on, bathroom covered in plastic, gagging all the way, but we will see what, if anything,is wrong with our little gal.  

I bet this will make you think twice before saying you had a shitty day - at least I can truly say i have (and survived).

Toodles!

Big Lumps and Chicken Nuggets

Hello Followers, forgive me for I have sinned....It has been 8 months since my last post because I am too lazy, have had a lot of shit to deal with and well, Facebook allows me to write tidbits each day and I haven't found the time nor energy to put something creative on paper!  There is my apology, but I really do hope to return to my beloved blog.

This past week at work a few of us were chatting about a few of my earlier blogs - you know, the ones when I was entering the scary world of parenthood and Code Brown and Poop were the topics of the day, followed by my obsession with Spanx and new adventures.  We found ourselves laughing to the point of tears coming down our cheeks as we recounted some of my experiences and when we tried to read them, well, it just lead to more laughter - a lovely break from the work day and a few funny memories for sure.  I highly recommend all my new mom friends (or those expecting) to take a peak, I certainly didn't hold anything back!

Greta is now a month in to her 3rd year and what a ride we are on.  I certainly can say she was an excellent 2 year old, I waited each day for the "terrible two's to hit", but they really didn't.  No embarrassing breakdowns at a public event or grocery store, no dreadful behavior issues at home or the sitter, she really was quite remarkable..but then 3 hit...and she has shown us that she was just storing up her little attitude and defiance.  While I am told quite often what I am experiencing is nothing, it has been quite the surprise for me.  She has a few little quirks, but an opinion comes along with these quirks.  She is in a dress phase, all outfits worn are dresses or long enough shirts that I can pull off as dresses, she is very particular on her hair style - pony tail, braid, pretty bow, etc, she has a few favorite shoes and all the others are pushed to the side, while I am loving the dress phase and my girly-girl, it is getting pricey trying to keep up (only because I have a shopping habit and want to ensure she doesn't have to repeat an outfit in the same 2 week cycle)... of course, the fact that she wants to wear a dress every day is not an issue, the fact that she refuses to wear particular ones when we are already running late to get to work is.  Despite picking out outfits the night before, she has had a few mornings where nothing would do, 5 outfits later, I was exhausted and she was in tears!  Then comes the mornings when she wants pancakes, then stares at them, refuses to eat and then says she wants a bagel or toast. 

She is quite comical and her quote jar is filling up with lots of comments she makes each day.  One that inspired todays Blog Title is the issue of "Big Lumps".  Greta has become obsessed with boobs!  While I am not particularly "small" in the chest area, I am a far way from Dolly Parton and my little gal is wishfully hoping for "big lumps like Mommy".  While it is somewhat funny to hear this at home, imagine my horror when it happened in public.

While at the Superstore (grocery store for those away), we were walking down the baking food aisle to get a few ingredients I needed to make jam.  She leaned out to hug me in this crowded aisle and instead of wrapping her arms around my waist, she grabbed my chest.  I looked both ways in horror thinking of my lord, who in this busy aisle just saw my almost 3 year old grab my chest, I gently (with a tad bit of force) put her arms together as I told her not to do that, I did say Please, but she was not fond of my stern voice.  She then said (to the delight of many around us), "Mommy, I have small lumps, I wish I had big lumps like you".  Let me die, right here by the sugar!  I am sure I turned beat red, my reaction started to upset her, but as I looked around, there was no denying that everyone in the aisle just heard my child wish for "big lumps like Mommy".  The sweet lady beside me looked sympathetic and tried her best to hold in laughter, but did not succeed, I think she actually spit when she started to laugh, however it was the middle aged man next to me who was having the most uncomfortable experience, I swear he was trying to look at my eyes, but it didn't work, he was definitely checking out my chest!  Alas, I quickly left the aisle and sadly, forgot the only ingredient I really needed - the damn sugar for my jam.  SIGH.  Of course, when I ask where she heard such a thing as big lumps, she blames her father, he denies it!

So, I cannot deny, the child is full of comic relief.  She has been having a tough time with my illness and the amount of Dr appts and hospital visits I have, it is hard to shelter a little one when much of my life revolves around the medical community.  She made the trek to Halifax with us and my Mother when I went to meet with the liver transplant team in Halifax.  We try to make the best of the time and try our best to make any appts she is aware of more fun, but there are times that Mommy is just not feeling well and can't always be around.  Sadly, I think our poor little girl started to worry alot, worried I would be going away and not coming back, or worried that I was too sick and wouldn't get better, I have been extremely cautious lately to not talk about medicines or Drs, etc.  This said, she did attend my specialist appt with me today and my Dr was so sweet to her, they are always asking about her so I was happy I could take her with me, she knew he was trying to get Mommy better and he actually focussed on her the entire visit, she thought it was a great place, which I am happy about.

Now of course, the above is just one thing I may not have approached in the best manner, this parenting thing really doesn't come with an instruction book, and it is rather exhausting at times.  I have done many, many things I really didn't think I would, not because I thought I could be Super Mom and follow some perfect parent rule book, but I thought at least I would be somewhere in the middle of the pack of Mom's, you know, feed them, keep them alive, make sure they look presentable in public...but alas being a Super Mom is tough (hell, who am I kidding, I really never tried to be a Super Mom, I think they are freaks - if you are a Super Mom, take a break, your kid and my kid will be in the same school, learn from the same teachers and who knows mine may go to the head of the class and not revolt when they are older, yours may!!!)

Anyway, here are my confessions of the failed Super Mom persona:

• I am no Super Mom
• The TV is on all the time - while she does stop here and there to watch it, she isn't in front of it all the time, but she could be
• My 3 year old plays on the iPad every night before bed, sometimes a virtual book, other times a game and many nights about 15 minutes of a Disney movie before she falls asleep
• She drinks juice  - almost every day
• While she is a great eater and loves broccoli and eats a fruit plate each day, she equally loves Chicken Nugget Happy Meals, Cheese Whiz Sandwiches, Bologna, cheese and crackers, KD and a lot of other crappy food that we give in to
• She is spoiled - completely, utterly, spoiled...and sadly, it is not because she has ever asked for a thing - rather, I am the culprit and love to buy things I think she will like - I have a problem.  If I think she is sad, I go to the closet where I store gifts and give her one...it is a problem!  
• I don't care that she is spoiled because she is thoughtful and thankful and polite and sweet, and I may not be around to see her grow up so I am going to spoil her all I want !
• The child has more clothes than I do - and that is saying a lot. 
• I have to admit that I have informed her that Santa has been on vacation on PEI and is watching - it has helped on a few occasions!  
• I love Elf on the Shelf and I may become one of those freaks who do all the crazy things! I think it is a great concept - time consuming for sure, but I think I will get great enjoyment out of him this year
• I do think she is one of the cutest kids out there !
• Having a kid of my own didn't make me love other kids, some are cute, but within reason, Reason being cute with there own mama's, I'm not ready for drop your kids off for a day/night...granted, if someone wants mine, wow, I would love it, but I can't do the same!  Total one sided favour!
• I am ending this blog to ruin my brain cells to watch the Finale of the Bachelorette!  Not even going to spell check as it is coming on in one minute and I need to get a drink and some ketchup chips!
• Toodles!  Hope I will be back soon!

Christmas - a year in review "newsletter style"

Greetings readers...

I have thought for years I should write a Christmas Newsletter, but quite frankly, I’m at my most creative and inspired when I’m pondering life, future circumstances and venting on my blog (which sadly, has only been updated twice this year) - so, that either means I don’t have an ounce of creativity left in me or no time to sit and write, as I know the year was full of things to vent and chat about!  But, since we turned down repeated requests for interviews from People Magazine and the National Enquirer, we are going to share the exclusive of our rollercoaster year with you, in the Edgett-Gallant Newsletter.

Since it is the holiday season, it does seem fitting to mention that we have not been invited to one holiday party, come to think of it, we rarely get an invite to do anything.  We are starting to wonder if people think we are contagious, it’s not like we have much of a life – we are free –  have to admit we do watch the clock and can barely stay up until 10pm, but that is a minor detail.  
I promise, this won’t be an annual family newsletter that will be full of kid tidbits and phenomenal accomplishments experienced throughout the year…no…I recognize no one really wants to read that and I actually just chuckled typing “phenomenal accomplishments” as besides miraculously keeping a fish alive for the past 3 months, I wouldn’t have much more to brag about.  Sure we have an adorable little girl, who is smart as a cookie (are cookies really smart – what a silly saying), but she is, the child is brilliant, but that is all, no more bragging…I mean, she is beautiful too and is going to have amazing hair and long eyelashes, but that is all.  Well, maybe the fact that she is obsessed with letters and can spell her name already is worth mentioning…but that is it…oh maybe one more thing, this one is really impressive she thus far has not turned on the little bully at her gymnastics class – although I’m considering giving her pointers on how to knock the little brat to the floor!
So my goal is not to bore you but rather compose a newsletter worthy of your time ... the struggle is “what to highlight”.

Highlights of 2012•    We are all alive – you may think this isn’t too hard to accomplish, but let me tell you, between Darren defrosting meat all day on the cupboard (how he hasn’t become ill from salmonella poisoning remains a mystery), and well, I am just an unhealthy creature, being alive is pretty impressive.  And while many doubted my ability to keep a child alive (I admit, I was the biggest skeptic), we have managed to do remarkably well with Greta – we have remembered to feed her each day, neither of us has forgotten her in the house and we have never left her accidentally out in public. Now, I admit, we have to do better with teeth brushing, you wouldn’t think this task would be hard to remember…but our goal for 2013 is to ensure she doesn’t have tons of cavities.
•    Greatest thing happened this year – Canadians can now take $800 across the border without having to pay duty – you may not think this is big – but it has greatly reduced what I owe at the border!
•    We didn't lose any money in the stock market – not hard since we didn’t have any money to put in to the stock market – I’ll blame my shopping habits and Greta’s wardrobe.
•    We had a lovely trip to New Hampshire planned for our anniversary – full of shopping, relaxation and the White Mountains – alas, two days before our trip Darren realized his passport was expired – he is alive – that is the highlight!!!
•    The animals both remained rather healthy – believe me, after the 2010-2011 Vet Bills this is definitely big news.  I could have paid for Greta’s first year of university with that money – granted, she is so smart, we are sure she’ll get a scholarship!!! 
•    I managed to read 3 books - the 50 Shades of Grey series.  I may have to read them again in 2013.  Impressive, not the fact that I read, but the books!
•    I survived a week in the hospital in October, after pancreatitis, crohns and liver disease struck me down - how is that for a downer line.  The good news is, I survived, the nurses who missed my veins every time they needed to give me a needle survived and my bad behavior while in the hospital did not get me kicked out. 

So, that is a few highlights to catch you up on our year.  As we embark on the holidays, we are trying to keep up with Greta’s wish list, amazing at two years old that she can tell us all the things she “needs” from the Sears Wish Book - my goal now is to not have her change her mind daily on what Santa is going to bring.  We are confident it will be a very fun and exciting Christmas for her and I hope the same for you and your loved ones.

We wish you good health and happiness this holiday season and plenty of time to do what is important to you in the coming year.

Merry Christmas from our home to yours,

Gail, Darren and Greta Claire
Scarlet & Casanova
   

Toddlers, they just keep going and going and going

Shame, shame, shame....I know it has been a very long time since I graced the Internet with a blog post. No great excuses, just laziness mixed with a lack of creativity and perhaps a touch of exhaustion. But, I'm back and tonight I have so many thoughts for a blog post that I may actually be able to, do I dare say, commit to writing more regularly again. With so much in my brain, I am afraid this may be a jumbled mess of words and thoughts, so hold on, you may be in for a bumpy reading experience!

The last three months in review:

Since I haven't written since Mid January, I will spare you the full social calendar of the past few months...ha, that is almost funny...the reason I can spare you is - there is no social calendar. My big outings are usually to the grocery store, I even dress up, fix up the make up, pretend I'm actually going somewhere exciting! But here is a few highlights of the past three months:

- My last blog post was to share the good news that I was cancer free after a very, very scary experience with Dr's and the mammogram machine, just a little scare, but one that is now behind me. I still had to meet with the surgeon, which I did two weeks ago, and all was confirmed as fine, so hopefully I won't have to face the machine again until the regular scheduled time that comes with age...which, low and behold is just 2 years away. It was quite funny however, as the surgeon asked, "despite this scare", would I consider myself otherwise healthy. I said NO. He then asked me to explain. So, I do what all people with multiple illness should do - I pulled out my full paged typed list and handed it to him. He was a bit taken aback, as I said in a smart ass way, "do you need anything further". He chuckled! I can never tell from Dr's when they see my list if they are thinking, poor you because I have so much to deal with, or poor you because I have something they know nothing about and don't know what to say to me. To add to the irony, I met the surgeon at the hospital in the outpatient clinic which is the old ER and ironically, I was brought to the exact same room I was in when I found out I was pregnant. I promise, I was much more well behaved at this appt than I was 2 years ago when I told the ER Dr he didn't know how to read a pregnancy test and he was incompetent. I felt an overwhelming need to go find the ER Dr's and apologize and tell them that I am a good mother and that my child survived, as I am sure that day the ER Dr confirmed I was pregnant he had his doubts... All this to say, it was kind of strange lying in the bed, in that room, and thinking back to the day my life changed forever and being there again, realizing that my life could have changed yet again if that mammogram wasn't positive.

- At the beginning of the month I said goodbye to another year as I continue my climb to 40...

- I also managed to spend a small little fortune in my favorite place, the great USA and specifically Maine and New Hampshire. I must say, this was not a planned trip, I actually told many it was an impossible trip as I owe lots if taxes (thanks to the maternity leave top up from last year), but, within a matter of 20 minutes, someone twisted my rubber arm and a trip was booked. Thanks Lisa! The great news, I had a few nights of amazing sleep, had others wait on me, did what I do best - shop and find bargains, and was able to buy lots of fun things for my favorite holiday - Easter!

- What a great holiday (and when I say holiday, I'm meaning more the Easter Bunny and candy, compared to the religious holiday). I have always loved Easter, maybe because my birthday was always around the holiday, but I really do love spring, I love the flowers, the baby animals and birds, the colors, especially the day when you finally notice the first buds on the trees and I really do like Easter decorations. So, what does someone do who loves Easter...they shop like it's Christmas. I may have gone a tad overboard, I never had to buy for a kid at Easter and there were so many nice and fun things to buy and with my eye for a bargain and a great USA deal, I just kept buying and buying and buying. Greta I think really enjoyed my efforts and at the end of the day, that is the fun part, she loved searching for eggs that the Easter Bunny left, and every morning leading up to Easter she would look at the Easter Tree (yes, I had an Easter Tree) and all the bunnies that were on display in the house and said, "there are the eggs and there are the bunnies" as she pointed / and or patted the items. Sadly, now that they are back in storage, she asks daily "where did they go", but soon enough, another holiday will be upon us to decorate for. Mom and Haley joined us for Easter, and she had a great time playing with her big cousin and thankfully cooperated so well during a photo session.

- And, finally, to top off this update on the past 3 months, can't go without saying something about work. The 2012 Budget, which was read while I was in the USA had a few eye openers, my personal favorite, was the increase to $800 that Canadians can bring back after shopping in the USA, just wish it had started April 1st and not June 1st. Unfortunately however the budget brought about confirmation that the public service will become smaller. While I don't think I have ever once blogged about where I work, I am a public servant, and worked hard to become one. When I worked for the provincial government, my goal was to move to the Federal System, it took attempts at applying online, and never even getting screened in, then numerous exams, and then interviews but my goal became a reality and once in to the system, I often joked that I was going to be a full time job applicant until I found the job that suited me best...and that also became reality. I dare say I studied more for internal job competitions than I did in 6 years of post secondary education. I have been fortunate to represent young public servants both on the provincial stage and the national stage and have always taken great offense to the public perception that government workers and lazy, under-skilled and under-worked, I will have to dedicate a blog just to this topic, but for now, I can say I appreciate those who support public servants and the difficult months and years ahead. While I was not directly affected and for now my position is safe, I know that is not the case for many of my peers who I have had the opportunity to work with, both on committees, or who I met at conferences or within my own Department, it is definitely a sad time ahead.

Okay, that is the last 3 months in review...now, lets see about Miss Greta and life as we now know it. Greta doesn't shut up...the child talks non stop, in the car, at a store. The only time she is quiet is when others come to the house, granted, once she gets over the shyness, look out. Her day is filled with, what's that, where did they go, who is that, where, what, when, why....this world of discovery is so interesting, yet so very, very exhausting. I was trying to visit a friend 2 weeks ago, and I couldn't get a word in, "Mommy, where did the kitty go", over and over and over. We play teacher / student quite a bit, she is a smart little gal and I am shocked at how many things she knows. I thank Barney (yes the purple dinosaur) and Sesame Street for a great deal of her learning, but she loves queue cards and picture books and is a quick study. While her "animal sounds" have been perfected for quite some time, her latest responses include music. We seem to look at animal pics quite often and lately, instead of saying an animal sound, she'll break out in to the song...looking at a mouse - she sings Hickory Dickory Dock, the mouse went up the clock (okay, not that clear, but I know what she is singing), Ducks - instead of quack, quack, is, Do what the Duckies do, and my all time favorite...if you ask her what a monkey says, she starts up with a Wiggles Song, Ya, ya, ya, Monkey Man. She is quite amusing and a great entertainer.

Which brings me, finally, to a few thoughts. Seeing an old friend this evening, we were talking about change, and friends and life, and how things and people change over time. She is soon going to start planning for a wedding, and believe me, I was in no position to give advice on weddings, as many know I skipped out on that phase of life and planning and eloped, but I did so to avoid the expectations and opinions of how a wedding should be, who should be invited, who shouldn't be invited, who to please, who would feel left out, etc, etc, etc...my only advice was, think of who you really want to be there, then think - do you think those people truly will be around in 2 years time, 5 years time, etc. That is hard to imagine, as lord knows, I never could have envisioned this past 2 years of my life, and that social calendar being so very, very empty from adult activities and now replaced with spending time with a toddler...so here is my take on the THEN AND NOW:

Then: I really loved Jello shots and would have them stuck to the floor after a party (even the walls).

Now: I have bought animal molds to make Jello shapes for Greta and pray she doesn't throw them on the floor.

Then: 12:30, awesome, the late night shows are about to start, wonder who is on Leno?

Now: OMG! It is 9:00, I don't think I can stay up much longer. I'll PVR the shows and watch them in my spare time (aka, I'll delete them when the PVR is filled to the max without watching them)

Then: Weekends were full of fun, friends, dorm parties and drinks, followed by sleeping in until noon.

Now: Saturday means I sleep in, hopefully until 9:30, no parties, no drinks, just exhaustion.

Then: I enjoyed daytime TV soaps - Days of Our Lives was a must - mindless TV with love triangles, affairs and rivals.

Now: I enjoy daytime TV dramas like Wonder Pets, what a great trio, "What's going to work, Team Work". " Wonder Pets, Wonder Pets, We are on our way, to help a baby animal and save the day".... Song and drama - and suspense, it's perfect.

Then: A spontaneous trip to the mall involved getting dressed, looking presentable and grab the purse.

Now: A spontaneous trip to the mall now involves a two hour prep, get ready, get Greta ready, pack snacks, drinks, Barney, the Doll, books to keep her entertained, diaper bag for the car - just in case, head to the truck only to realize I forgot my own purse... the malls really should get online and deliver to my door...

Then: Friends called to chat and asked about life, work, love. Would chat for hours.

Now: On a rare occasion may get an email and not sure why we all have phones as no one uses them anymore. And of course, if someone ever did think about calling, better be before 8:30, as I will likely not answer after this time due to being in bed.


Then: Enjoyed a good movie.

Now: Good video is one of 20 Barney video's that make Greta happy.


Then: Facial every month.

Now: Needed the uplift and old age facial because my skin was old and dull.


Then: Looked forward to having a night at home on a weekend as the social calendar was so full it was rare to just sit and relax.

Now: Social calendar - ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha...oh yes, and Babysitters cost a lot, can't afford much of a social calendar even if there were options.

So, that is life, then and now. And I must say, the now is pretty Super-dee-duper!

Toodles.

Rite of Passage....to Squishville

Well, I have contemplated writing this blog post, then decided against it, but then I thought...maybe I should, it will be my public service announcement of 2012, maybe it will somehow help many to follow in my footsteps, maybe it will let others have a better understanding of something I never hear anyone talk about. So, here is my journey - to the Mammogram machine, aka Squishville!!! Warning - this will cause you to wince in pain, cringe a little, and maybe even gasp - so men - stop reading, you won't be able to handle it!

Now, despite having an 18 month old (wow, can you believe, 18 months - actually, in 5 more days it will be 19 months), I can't really say her arrival was painful. I had a planned c-section...no pain, no discomfort, operating room, and 16 minutes later had a baby - so maybe I won't be able to say I "experienced child birth", I think, despite having a not so pleasant recovery, it was a walk in the park....of course, I truly believe I have the most amazing pain tolerance of anyone I know. Kidney stone and liver biopsy - now they hurt... But I really can handle pain. But, let me take you back a few weeks and we'll get this story started....

After getting "freaked out", almost obsessive and having experienced quite unbearable pain (which see above - I usually can handle), I broke down and called the Dr. Of course, by the time I made the call to the Dr I had of course diagnosed myself.... Dr Google is never wrong, so I truly was convinced my fear of cancer had finally caught up with me. I was a mess - every spare moment was spent on a medical site. Thankfully, with my other medical issues, mixed with meds that have dreadful side effects, I was able to get in to my Dr within 24 hours of my call. And then things moved quick. I heard the word mammogram, will happen fast, will make a referral to a specialist...and ummm, I think that was all I heard. Despite being Dr Google, I don't know if I actually thought I would get booked for a mammogram and definitely not quickly...I thought woman were waiting months. Anyway, next business day, I receive the call, the following day I'm on my way to the hospital and off to this rite of passage that I guess woman must take - but I am still a little ways from that magic age (okay, so the age is creeping up quick, but still, I'm not 40 yet).

And here is where the Squishville story really begins - my guide to the mammogram for all the newbies out there who have yet to experience this great little adventure.

After navigating through the new hospital lobby - which was extremely long I must say, I follow the pink tape in the radiology department towards the mammo waiting room. The sweetest volunteer is there to greet me, along with two other ladies all dressed in their gowns waiting for their punishment, whoops, I mean test. The ladies are looking, dare I say judging, sure they appear to be double my age, I think they are checking me out, thankfully the volunteer calls me and sends me to the changing room. Now, this changing room is small, if I were any bigger I would have to walk in side ways, lean up against the wall to be able to shut the door...but I get in to the small broom closet they say is a changing room and am given the instructions to put the gown on, open in the front please!!! I ask for a housecoat...there are none! I am them asked to return to the waiting room. As I sit down on the couch (it really is a cozy little room), another lady comes in, and now I'm the one judging. She is dressed in a fur coat, the brightest red lipstick I have ever seen and talking a mile a minute, and all I keep thinking is - you are wearing a dress...for a mammogram... you can leave your "pants" on and this lady is wearing a dress, which means her chest is going to be exposed and she has no pants on - anyway, it took my mind off what was coming next...they are just needing your "upper parts" to be on display, but I can't get over, someone who no doubt has had regular mammograms (again, judging by age) came to a booked mammogram in a dress...obviously she doesn't have body image issues like I. I like to be covered!

Anyway, after a few questions, I am taken to the room...and there it is - the Squishville machine, the star attraction. I must say, the captain of this machine was a sweet nurse, she was kind, matter of fact and made the entire uncomfortable experience seem so routine and like it was nothing that it did bring some calm over me...but...let me give you a little play by play.

This sweet nurse is too cheerful, she is bubbly and explaining what will be happening to me and my dignity. I remember quite well checking my dignity at the door when I had Greta, but this was a different feeling...definitely a check the dignity at the door, but then I think - this woman moves peoples breasts around all day, 8 hours a day, pushing, squeezing, pinching and squishing breasts...Anyway, what happens next is not at all what I'm expecting. I never expected anything so positively funny in all my life!

I have to stand on a line on the floor, put one of the "girls/puppies, B cups", whatever you want to call them, on a glass plate (or maybe, it was plastic), then lean into it, while the sweet little nurse starts pushing, positioning you, moving your shoulders, tell you to move this way,then back, then up, there are foot pedals on the floor that she moves the Squishville machine with and sweetly again, tells me she needs me to get in to the machine as much as possible. Believe me, I was in the machine, I was starting to think they wanted pics of my liver not my chest. Then as I am standing pretty much on one foot and being told to breathe normally the other plate starts moving down, and down, and down...a let out a little gasp, followed by - are you kidding me! She then informs me there is a bar I can hold...a bar, at this point the only bar I'm thinking about is at a local pub with a fruity vodka filled drink. Of course, I'm trying to maintain an ounce of dignity and don't want to hold the bar because that means I won't be able to hold the tiny thread of fabric on the open gown I am wearing, my gown is slipping off my shoulder, and the machine is getting tighter...Breathe she says...then the picture is taken and I'm let go from the death grip... Phew - Okay, I say, that wasn't as bad as I thought, she said that is great, only 3 more pics to go!

You see, they'll want to look at your puppies/ girls, B cups, from the top, bottom and sides and all of this takes some interesting dance moves. As I am positioned again for other shots, I'm realizing the effort to hold this gown up isn't really worth it, pretty sure it fell completely off me come the 3rd photo. I am pretty sure the 4th picture actually lifted me off the ground, and the breathing normal - nah, I was wincing in pain...but the good news is, literally within minutes it is over with. Despite what I was anticipating, it really wasn't as painful as I expected, uncomfy yes, being pushed, positioned and lifted off of the floor, not a walk in the park, but worth it to find out what is going on.

Of course, then you wait for the results...which means someone like me comes home and starts to research again and start to think about my funeral, because I don't have a positive bone in my body when it comes to health matters. And I'm not thinking of any funeral, I want a NB style funeral on PEI...this line up thing is just odd, and name tags...nope, don't like that either. And I want flowers...lots of flowers...and I think I need a guest list, there are people I just don't think should be allowed to come to my funeral, so short of hiring bouncers, I think at least the guest list would control who was let in, and I was going to leave a list of who was to be kicked out. Then clothes...what would I do for Greta - was I going to have to buy a lifetime of clothes for her, prom dresses, jewelry, surely I would have to buy shoes for the next 18 years for her. And what would Darren do, would my pictures still me in the house, would Greta come look for me and just see my picture...ahhh, it was stressful.

But thankfully, my story has a good ending, in one week, I saw the Dr, was referred, bet the mammo machine and had a positive outcome. Phew. I know others are not so lucky and despite imaging for a full week what it would be like, I am sure you never could be prepared. So for now, thankfully I'll stick to my 3 diseases that cause me pain and agony, stress and anxiety, but that can somewhat be controlled...It could have always been worse.

So, that is the journey, if you are 40 and have yet to book your first visit to Squishville...make that call...it could very well save your life and you may even find it a tad funny...where else can you get a "massage", good conversation and a lift off the floor by your chest!

Toodles!