She'll be riding six white horses when she comes

“Sometimes,' said Pooh, 'the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” ― A.A. Milne

Its been a while, I missed writing. I am still "comin round the mountain". Sing it with me people.

This past treatment day I had what felt like a army of friends who had picked me up, dropped me off and came to see me. I don't think I will ever be able to express how much that means.  Always done without hesitation. The big excitement was the arrival of one of my sisters ( she is older but we will just keep that amongst ourselves). Most of my biological family lives in Ontario and Quebec so happy to see her coming. Last two treatment I managed to get the chemo chair that looks straight out the entrance doors in the treatment area. I am like the greeting committee when you come in, the first person you see. This could be a good and bad thing as I cried like I was watching the Notebook ending last treatment. I like the perch as I can see everyone who comes and goes, it always humbles me. Each face that comes through riddled with emotion both happy and sad. I see people who come on their own for chemo with bravery I have yet to attain. My bravery comes from all the people who have been lifting me through this, telling me I can. Maybe we r the same, I don't know. I had also  come fully prepared to tell the nurse how to get my iv in my arm, nice and easy. I had spent two days preparing nice plump veins for them. I drank a lake of water,  had a massage done with love, and shook my arm down to the ground. The nurse comes over and asks " do you have a port?" I say " no". I try to interject all the wonderful, proactive things I did, but she turns and is gone. She comes back and looks at me like " I got this under control"  and pops that needle in like butter. I would like to believe that all my efforts made for a easy iv set up, but her confidence in getting it in wins as well. I thanked her all day long for making what is a stressful thing for me, simple.
My sister arrived and it was wonderful. She got to stay at the hospital for the full 7 hours due to the fact my chemo never came till very late ( shhhh pharmacy never got it, took four hours to figure that out). Before treatment day though, I had messed up my steroids, as in, I did not take enough. To all the people who may ever have to do chemo or knows someone who has to do it, tell them not to screw up their steroids. They gave me  iv steroids to make up for my mistake. In the days to come I was like the Road Runner on Bugs Bunny, I am not sure what my sister thought of it all. She watched me go around like a whirling dervish, for a couple of days, but then as usual I stopped whirling. A gentle reminder from the chemo, of what is actually happening. Simmer down girl, simmer down it tells me.
I got news the next day that my biopsy was scheduled for the following Monday, something I was dreading. All the what if's and maybe's came rushing back. It takes a lot of energy and control to keep those thoughts at bay. I had my sister here with me so I was grateful for that. We went that Monday and I get called in for my appointment. I lay down on the table and I am ready for it, for anything. Truth is I don't want anything. I want it to be okay. The doctor comes in after reviewing my MRI and quickly locates the lymph node that has caused all this flurry. " Its normal she says". She calls out to technician "' cancel the biopsy". I am in shock. I thought she was gonna say something else. I had completely prepared for the worse. She says I can go. I get up and leave. Everything has completely gone over my head. I return to the waiting area quickly and tell my sister the news. She cries and hugs me but I am numb. Hello, good news Sondria!!! I think then somebody has stolen my brain, cause I can't react. Not to worry though I had myself a great little meltdown later because the steroids were wearing off and the crash you feel from them aids in any emotional outbursts that might be needed. I am so blessed lol.
I spent the next couple of days enjoying my sister till she had to leave to go home. I had been noticing while she was here how horrible I was feeling later in the days, which in other treatments was not the case. I had expected to feel pretty much the same as before, but this one was different. I  normally  pushed through feeling like a  bag of smashed marbles, this time is a bit more of a challenge. I can feel the cumulative effect on my body. People say to me " only one more treatment." I keep thinking " don't ever use the word only or just with chemo treatment". The chemo drugs will put you in your place on that. I am grateful to be heading towards the end of this particular part of the plan, but it doesn't end with the last injection of drugs sadly. There are drugs to be taken and boobs to rebuild. 
I managed to squat in a bit of fun because I suffer terribly from a case of FOMO ( fear of missing out). Its a chronic condition and should be treated immediately but there is no cure known. Its mostly a mental condition that can manifest into anxiety around missing out on anything that makes you laugh or happy. Debilitating texting and facebooking behaviours can result. So with the help of a hot bath, a bit of drugs and good makeup I got out. Birthday's and a dinner with great friends, it was wonderful. They always make me laugh, and I feel the love. I am reminded that life keeps going and so must I, especially if I don't want to miss out. lol.  Nothing like a bit of motivation.

I sit here in anticipation of another family member coming to visit. I love being someones little sister.