This thought entered my mind as I wandered the downtown streets of TO yesterday like a vegabond, as i completed my final day of annual testing. It was the 4 hour long radioactive egg eating day and I was making my way to the muchly-anticipated Campbell House on University Ave.
There i was, in my ripped jean shorts, old sandals that my mum hates, red purse (which happily broke on me on monday), purple light knit sweater and grey-blue hat. I had not a care in the world; i had nowhere to be and no one who needed me. I could breathe. I could walk. The sun was shining and that it all that mattered in that moment.
A whole year.
I frigging made it.
Monday the 16th saw me rising at 5am to catch the 5:55am bus to TO to begin my annual appts. I've gotten most of my results back and they are as follows:
blood work: normal. And i mean normal as in it doesn't look like i'm on any medication kinda normal. Kidneys are great, liver is great, everything else is great. Life is just fucking great.
bone density was a tad down, as to be expected from the pred, so my doc is gonna book me with a rheumatologist or something to see if there's anything i need to go on. she's not worried, and i'm not either, but seeing as i'm active my bones need to be good!
x-ray was nice and clear. and i saw it myself. it was amazing and a sight i thought i'd never see!
finally pfts: Hear ye, hear ye, pneumonia can lick my ass because my pfts came in at a whopping 92%. weeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was sooooooooo happy to see that, seeing as Monday got off to a rough start...
Somewhere in between my x-ray and blood work i lost my assessment package. Anyone who's had a tx most likely receives a detailed, multiple-paged package in the mail indicating which days you are needed at the hosp, what test you have, what time, what day, and where it is. It tells you if you need to starve, forfeit meds for the test, show up early, apparate out of nowhere, fly in on a broom, or bring a change of clothes. So as you can see, not losing the assessment package is imperative.
And I lost it on the first day.
And i don't know how.
So after scouring the places i had visited in the hosp for my assessment package (and PFT results), i finally gave up, and went for my 6 minute walk.
And that's when my purse broke.
Not one, but both zippers fell off. And i didn't know how to put them back on. So i struggled, gave up, did my walk test, located a wrap to eat, and found a spot on the grass to eat it and attempt to fix my purse.
After an hours worth of struggles and strange looks, i successfully managed to fix 1 zipper, which was enough to keep my purse closed. It was then time to head inside for clinic. So i gathered my shit and stood up and made my way indoors...
I noticed my ass was soaking wet. Somehow i never noticed the ground i was sitting on was soaking wet, until i stood up, so i walked up with a soaked ass all afternoon.
So clinic was clinic - i waited 2 hours. Xray looked good, ct was good, though there is a small spot that they saw and biospsied the following day. No worries though. I mentioned wanting to be a mentor to tx ppl so my coordinator gave me names of who to contact, and I also told her about the tx games and the tour with eve. she looked at me and told me that contiki tours are notorious for being 'booze cruise' types, and i assured her that i wasn't inclined by nature to drink so she had nothing to worry about.
I ended up spending the night at the Delta with my mum and sister since I had a bronch the next day and needed to be there at 7:45am. So we had a girls night and day.
Tues bronch was horrible. I was awake for the whole thing and felt everything, but I couldn't help but be in awe as i watched the live version of the xray, as the little scope snaked its way through my airways and snagged peices of lung. What was even cooler was that I could see where I was wired together, and my speculations seemed to be correct in that I am only wired together on one side, the left, and screwed on the right. It was pretty wicked to see, and I wish i hadn't been so out of it that I could've lingered in the moment a little longer and had a better picture commited to memory than I do, but oh well. It sounds romantic and in all honesty it's painful as hell and had me thrashing and flailing all over the table in my semi-stoned state of mind. BUT! As a result of the bronch, i had a gross/cool thing happen last night! After walking the dog i coughed up a huuuuuuuuge glob of semi clotted blood. And we're talking massive. If it wasn't for the fact that its texture was horrid, i would've taken some time to inspect the little gem, but instead had to cough it up and out. I would've loved to see it though. And yea, I'm gross, but i know a few people (AMY (glare) who would appreciate this peice of spectacular info.
Afterwards I made sure that things looked good from the docs perspective. He said the little spot wasn't an infection as there was no mucus, most likely wasn't a tumor since everything is normal, and could either be fungas (boo, but better than a tumor), or just a naturally occuring spot, to which i've deduced to be somewhat like a mole. It's there, and generally harmless, but should have an eye kept on it.
So that was the bronch. I wandered around downtown with my mum and sis afterward, slurring my speech and purpetually stoned out of my mind, trying not to vomit all over everything. I did however, see Hattie Monday and Tues and she looks fab! A few small bumps but those are to be expected!
So yea, now I'm here, with my tea, my Vanity Fair and Marie Claire magazine, with the windows open and chillen out.
And I am breathing.
Oh lungs, but i do love you...
P.S. You'll notice that i changed the pics. Or maybe you didn't. Well now you do, so fucking look at them. If you look under the 'about the blog blog' section you will notice that I aptly changed the pictures of my precious cats, to include myself in them. You will also notice that yes, in the picture of me and zoey, her mouth is open, and no, that is not her attempt at smiling but rather, she is screaming.
The first pic is my chocolate nephew, Finnegan, aka Finn, or the Finnesaur, or Finnesaurus Wrecks. Look at his beady little, glowing eyes. Full of evil, just waiting to knock shit over and bark at you for no reason other than the fact that you're looking at him and refusing to play with him. Ah bless.
P.P.S *for anyone who cares*, Titanic is falling apart:http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2010/08/100818-titanic-3-d-expedition-shipwreck-science-collapsing/
Anyone who knows me knows i love Titanic, and all things Titanic-y. This makes me sad :(