Now that I have my schedule for the start of my Radiation Treatments, its time to make a plan.

Fourteen days after I spoke to my Radiation Oncologist, I received the call with my start date: Wednesday November 18th at 220pm. I managed to get my hours arranged at work and I was told that they are trying to get my upcoming appointments to be at the end of the day (between 3 & 4pm) I called Wheels of Hope (a service who drives people to their treatments) and was told that there was a $100.00 registration fee. That's fine, I was willing to pay $4.00 a trip. Then also mentioned that sometimes the rides don't show up and you must have a back up plan. Unfortunately I don't have a back up plan; hubby has used up all his 'sick' time from work this year so besides walking, I would have to take a cab. No doubt you are wondering "why can't she walk? It's only 7 blocks" I probably would, but my treatment is under my right arm. I'm a big girl. 'Nuff said?

Now, how do I get there? I posted on the online 'bulliten board" at work but no bites. So I posted on Facebook earlier today. I had a ride within minutes. Now there have been numerous offers of drives to treatment from the fine citizens of Bath and Amhrstview ( and even Amherst island) but I couldn't see the point of someone driving 27 km to pick me up to drive me down the street. King Street East is what I look at all day long and it only made sense to me to catch a ride who someone who was already travelling that way. So probably 15 minutes after my Facebook post, an angel who I scarcely know, from work, sent me a private message and offered her help. I advised it wouldn't be the same time every day and she said she was fine with that. This is a person I believe I have talked to (face to face) three times since I started at Empire. She explained that if  she couldn't drive me, there were others in her department that could. How could I ever thank her?? She asked me to pay it forward...which I will!! I am still tearing up as I think of her generosity.

It is amazing the stuff that pops in your head when diagnosed with a critical illness. It started when I had to take training about the Critical Illness benefit that we offer through Empire. I had mixed feelings about attending the one hour session; unfortunately I knew more about this particular benefit than most in the room. Not by choice. When the conversation switched to mortality due to CI (critical illness) I swallowed hard and spaced out a bit. It was like I was floating over the table, tuning out the conversation and going back in time. There I was, a 7 year old girl, holding a fishing pole in the dark on the Millhaven Ferry Dock. My Dad helped me reel in a 7 lb pike as my Auntie Mae hooked into an old boot. We dragged them up on the dock at the same time. It was so dark at 430am so she thought she had caught a whopper. When the flash light shone on that boot, we all howled in laughter!! Why did that pop in my head? Maybe I subconsciously was thinking that I would be hanging out with Auntie Mae again soon?  Or my Dad, or my Mom. Wait...I'm going to survive this,...right? I'm not ready to go. But every time I see a friend now, I want to hug them and tell them what they mean to me; just in case I don't see them again. Yep, this is the pike:

Well, there. That's out of my head and down in print. My apologies for the prattling; this is my form of therapy;)

Now go enjoy your weekend!!!!