Checking In - An Update December 12, 2012

     I wanted to just write a quick note to let you know where I've been hiding! I'm sorry about the lack of posts but stay tuned - I have some pretty good stories lined up. Hopefully I'll be writing a great one in January about how amazing my Christmas was this year!
     I adore soaking up those magical two weeks between Christmas and New Year's filled with snowy boots, laughter and family. Nothing makes me happier than cuddling up with my boy watching Yukon Cornelius, Charlie Brown, Kevin McCallister and all the Christmas classics by the colorful cozy glow of the tree with a large mug of Egg Nog. 
     And yet, every year as the seasons come and go, it never fails - that when the weather changes, my symptoms erupt like clockwork. Every October and every March I'm sick and most likely in the hospital. I have missed six of the past seven holiday festivities and countless birthday celebrations.

    Last year, since I had just been moved to a general nursing unit from the ICU four days earlier, I spent Christmas in the hospital. It's kind of funny though, looking back. All things considered, it was as great as a Christmas could be there. My family and friends really made it special. I had a little tree, little twinkle lights, little presents and a lot of love. 

     Now it's one year later. Back in October I fell terribly sick with a fever. I was nauseous, dizzy and delirious for days. At one of my bi-weekly treatments at clinic my doctor did blood tests, x-rays and everything else under the sun. The doctor called me that night and told me to go straight to Emergency. My blood cultures had grown two bad bacteria (gram negative rods if you're savvy and something else I can't remember) and I was in a state of septic shock. I was put on extensive IV antibiotics for ten days before I was allowed home. Everything seemed to be going great. Until two weeks later. It happened again. Two weeks after that - again. They have CT Scanned, MRI'd and Ultra Sounded me every which way and my doctors cannot find where the infection is in my body that is getting into my blood stream and causing me to go septic. I always say that if the rest of my life wasn't so wonderful, I'd be the unluckiest person I know!
    I'm keeping high hopes and sending even higher prayers that I will be home with my family this year. I want to be there for everything! The decorating, the baking, the visiting, Santa, the tree and all of that tinsel sparkle and holiday magic. If it comes down to it though, I'd settle for a Christmas Eve/ Christmas Day overnight pass from the hospital. Fingers crossed!
   
 I hope you all are feeling the tingle of rosy cheeks and holiday cheer as much as I am! 

   Jane xo
 
   

December 5th, 2012 - Update

Hello everyone! 

As you may have noticed, I have not written anything new for weeks. I was admitted into the hospital for two weeks (with no internet!) over the past month. It was a serious emergency, but luckily for me I have two of the most amazing doctors who quickly got me back on my feet. I've been writing the past few days so I'm hoping to have a post to put up over the weekend. In the meantime, read your favorites and follow me on Twitter, Pinterest, and Facebook.

Jane xo

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It's Cold Outside. Read A Book November 16th, 2012

       I have been spending so much time reading lately. Reading in the hospital because renting a television costs $13.57 a day. (Yes, per day. How sick is that? Pardon the pun.) Reading in waiting rooms. Reading during my three hour treatments. Reading for inspiration.      
       A few weeks ago, I decided to tackle the small pile of books I had bought but had never gotten around to reading. I purchased so many newer books they became somewhat forgotten about. 
       The first of these is a book by Kristin Hanna titled Magic Hour. This book soaked me up like a sponge. It was so good that as soon as I had finished it, I ran down to my parent's apartment and told my mother she just HAD to read it. Yesterday, she gave it back looking exhausted. She had stayed up the entire night reading it. On a work night. Yes - it is that good! 
       One of my favorite things about a great book is sharing it with your friends and family. I get so excited when they also enjoy it and can talk about the story. I decided to put together a small list of the top three favorite books I have read so far this fall. I promise - you'll eat these up like Thanksgiving dinner. 

The Secret Life Of CeeCee Wilkes by Diane Chamberlain

This author never disappoints. I have read six of her books but the first, and by far my favorite, was The Secret Life Of CeeCee Wilkes. You will understand after having read it why I can't walk by any one of her books without buying it. This story starts with sixteen year old CeeCee Wilkes. She is a backwoods, small town waitress who is in love for the first time. She is blindly lead into a criminal plot with her boyfriend that spins wildly out of control. She is forced to run, change her name, and live out her life in secret. Decades later, the boyfriend is on death row - and CeeCee Wilkes is the only person who knows what really happened. This book will have you turning pages long into the night. So, get comfy, grab a cup of tea and a cozy blanket and be swept up in the intrigue. This book will have your pulse racing long after the last page.

Iron Lace by Emilie Richards

Emilie Richards has written many novels, but this is the first one that I have read. Set in New Orleans, Louisiana, 1975, the tone of the story is thick with politics, war, and racism. 
It was the beginning of modern ways, and most elders were lead kicking and screaming from the barbaric old rituals. Aurore  Gerritsen is not one of them. The matriarch of her family is living out the last of her life in her mansion. Her great grandparents started successful businesses that has kept her family wealthy for generations. Before she dies, she invites a young talented journalist to write the story of her life. Although at first reluctant, Phillip Benedict is swept up in the old lady's world, but nothing could have prepared him for the impact of Aurore's revelations. This book is so vivid, you will swear you've seen a visual video instead of words on a page. 

Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah
When I think of all the months this book has been right under my nose not being read, I could kick myself. The story begins with Dr. Julia Cates, an expert child psychiatrist, who moves back home to the Pacific Northwest into her family home with her sister, Sheriff Ellie Cates. One morning, from deep withing the heavy growth forest of the Olympic National Park, a six year old girl appears. She cannot speak and offers no clue to her identity. I really don't want to shed light on much more of this novel except that it will push your limits, emotionally. For the last hundred pages I cried. I was a bigger blubbering mess than a theatre full of women after a showing of The Notebook. Not that this is that kind of love story. I can't say anything more other than - Go buy this book. Now!
  


Finally, I want to thank you all for all the amazing feedback and compliments. I never could have imagined in a million years that my stories would be read over 10,000 times in under six months. Thank you :)

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October 31st, 1990 Halloween

       Halloween brings back such mixed emotions for me. I love getting the house all decorated and helping my son with his costume. I love trick or treating with him out in the brisk autumn air with leaves crackling beneath our feet.

       When I was little, trick or treating down my road on the way to my grandfather’s house was my very favorite thing about Halloween. I loved how the air always smelled of chimney smoke and how there were children running house to house in a fit of giggles. He always had the best candy and would save me extra of my favorite molasses kisses. I’m pretty sure I’m probably the only person I have ever met who likes to eat those impossible to chewy treats.

       The best thing about Halloween itself, of course, was the pillowcase full of chips, rockets, lifesavers, aero bars, double bubble, tootsie pops, chocofudge, fun-dip and, if you were really lucky, maybe a can of soda pop. I would kick off my boots and lay claim to a big spot on my living room carpet and dump out my treats to survey the goods, dividing them into groups and making piles of the bad ones to pass off to my little brother. Halloween was also the gift that kept on giving because you knew you would have a candy treat every day for recess for at least the next month or so.

       Then in third grade I got diagnosed with my illness. I was pale as a ghost and all skin and bones. I had just had my very first surgery. I was so uncomfortable sitting in school that my mother made me a pillow to take for the chair at my desk. It was white and blue with Paddington bear on it. Every time I think of myself as that sick and lonely little girl, I want to give her a hug and tell her it is going to be okay and we’re going to have a rough life but we’ll get through it, I promise. It was horrible the way my most of my old class mates stayed clear of me as if I could infect them with all the terrible things that were happening to me.

       When October rolled around, the buzz started about the class Halloween party, costumes, candy and about who was brave enough to watch their older brothers horror movies. I was being tube feed all my nutrition at the time, so the last thing I wanted to do was be around all the festivities and not be allowed to so much as taste anything. I thought my mother would understand but she had a whole different idea.

       My mother decided that even though I wasn't living the ideal “normal” childhood that it was still important for me to participate in children’s pastimes when I was well enough so I didn't look back and regret it when I was older. Well, I’m older. And I still regret the Halloween of third grade.

       Since I would not be allowed to eat all the candy, potato chips and class party pizza, mom took me to Walter’s Party Rentals convinced that I should have the best costume ever so I would excited to wear it for the party and around trick or treating. She rented an amazing Miss Piggy costume. It wasn't a plastic mask or rubber head piece, it was as if it were the real Miss Piggy only I was inside. I was so excited to have the perfect costume that I pushed all my frustrations aside and started to get swept up in Halloween.

       Halloween day came around. Besides the pangs of envy over everyone eating at the party, I was admitting to myself on the way home from trick or treating that I was glad mom convinced me to go out today. My little brother and I were just finishing up the last houses in our neighborhood. The autumn night was mild and the tape that held my feeding tube in place was getting annoying and itchy under my heavy mask. I decided to take if for the walk home. We were cutting through the hole in our playground fence when my brother called to me.

       “Hey, Jane! The MacDonald’s lights are on! One more house! Come on!”

“We have two pillowcases each!” I laughed but followed him back through the fence. When we got to their yard I dropped my things on the sidewalk and carried my lightest pillowcase up their front steps as my brother knocked.

      “Oh hello! Happy Halloween!,” Mrs. MacDonald said, putting Cheesies in our bags. She looked at me and said, “My aren't Halloween things getting realistic – that on your face looks so gross!”

       It took me no time to realize she was talking about my feeding tube. I turned and ran down the stairs willing the tears not to come. As I raced through the playground I could hear my brother yelling to me that I forgot my bags of treats but I didn't care. I did not stop until I hit my bed,  pushing past my questioning mother, letting the screen door slam behind me.

       I cried. I cried all night. I cried the next day. There wasn't anything anyone could say to make me feel better.  Over the years I never went out trick or treating on Halloween again. My mother just accepted how I felt and left well enough alone. Even all these years later, when I’m costume shopping and out trick or treating with my son, I’m still haunted by the ghost of that poor little girl who cried every time another missed Halloween came around.

Happy Halloween!

The two cutest treats I saw for Halloween this year! My cousins make beautiful babies! I had to share :) 

Cupcake CutiePie Taylor :)

  Little Red Riding Reese <3 

I hope you, your friends, and your kids had fun dressing up this year and braving a wet night of Trick Or Treating despite all this gross wind and rain from Hurricane Sandy. If you want to share some cool costumes that you saw this Halloween - or maybe even ones that you made yourself! - I'd love to see you post them on my Facebook page at www.Facebook.com/JaneSpringPage. 

July 11th, 2012

       Pita bread, hummus, carrots.  I’m surveying the items in my shopping cart Nikki and I are gathering for an overdue girl’s night in. This bounty is in serious need of candy. Nik is vigilant about what she eats but I have an insatiable sweet tooth and baby carrots were not going to cut it.

       “Wine. We need lots of wine,” Nikki is telling me knowing full well that in our fifteen years of friendship I rarely ever drink. I’m distracted by something familiar about the guy standing ten feet away from us on the opposite side of the aisle comparing boxes of rice noodles.  In a split second, I realize who it is. I’d seen him a hundred times before but I was thrown off by the denim jacket and khaki cargo shorts, having never seen him without his long white lab coat outside the confines of the hospital.

       I do what any mature thirty-year-old grown woman would do when she sees a guy who she’s crushing on and panic. Grabbing Nikki by the arm, I duck around the corner before he sees me, rushing away like some scared little girl. 

       “What the hell!?” Nikki looks at me like I have ten heads. I point down the aisle and explain my actions in two words. “Hot Doctor.”

       “Ahh!” she sneaks a better look at him. “That’s him!? He IS a Hot Doctor! For cripes sake go talk to him! You look fantastic. Remember the cafeteria incident? You said that if you ever saw him while you were out here in the real world looking normal that you would do something about it. Do something about it!” She gave me a little shove. 

       Dr. W has been the resident working alongside my doctor for over a year. I could tell the first time I met him that he was going to be an incredible doctor. He listened. He actually made eye contact. More importantly, he understood that sometimes when tests don’t have all the answers, that patients themselves may have better insight than scans and textbooks.  He treated patients like people. You would think it would be a given that most doctors would know your first name without first having to check your chart. Unfortunately, that is not always the case.

                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months earlier…

        Chips, chocolate bars, pop. I’m in the hospital cafeteria at 2 a.m. standing in front of a vending machine daydreaming about the powdery neon orange cheese flavoring on Doritos. I've been an in-patient a little over five months and the only nourishment that enters my body does so via an implanted catheter in my chest which pumps in all the vitamins, minerals, nutrients, fluids and lipids I need from the bags hanging on this IV pole I’m leaning against. This Cadillac of healthy diets chemically predigested straight into my blood stream costs well over eight hundred dollars a day but does nothing to squelch the cravings and desire to taste the actual juicy, crunchy, sweet, sour, creamy flavor of anything between my teeth and on my tongue. 

       “Please tell me you are not seriously considering cheating on me here?” Doctor W was attempting to look at me very sternly but the crinkles by his eyes gave his lightheartedness away.  He was ridiculously handsome and so genuinely nice it could almost make you roll your eyes skeptically that guys like this actually exist. “Nothing in there is worth the progress we've made. Plus, I’ll totally tattle-tale on you to crazy Cathy the nutritionist and she’ll lecture you for hours about why your digestive tract needs a rest.”

       “Tattle-tale? You know, you are way too comfortable around me for a doctor.” I smiled. I didn't mind at all and he knew it. Over the past five months, a budding friendship had started to emerge. At first, he would stay behind after his team of physicians had moved on questioning me about my illness. Seeing as how I have such a complicated – and in some aspects, very rare – medical history, visits could easily last an hour. Eventually, he started asking the inevitable question: how has spending upwards of eighty months in the hospital over the course of a single decade effected my quality of life.  Our being so close in age we also soon realized we shared some mutual friends from university and before long talking medical history gave way to become more personal.

      “How about you just sit here and watch me drink a disgusting coffee from that ancient machine over there?” The coffee vending machine with fading seventies diner decals sputtered and hissed in reply. Laughing we sat down at a table. You would never know it was the wee hours of the morning had it not been for the emptiness of the cafeteria tables. Throughout most of the hospital, there are no windows and artificial lighting remains turned on endlessly. Hospital nurses, lab workers, doctors, and other staff are always busy working. Patients are catching naps here and there throughout the days but are rarely ever sleeping. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and scheduled medication times are the only indication that the time inches on. Days are identical on weekdays, weekends, or holidays. Blending together, they drone on separate from the outside world.  

       For the next three hours, we sat in the cafeteria as anything but Doctor and Patient. I knew before that night I was attracted to him in the way that every woman can appreciate a handsome doctor. It was a welcome treat to sit down with him as two people enjoying good conversation not revolving around my hospital chart. But on that night a very tiny spark started to flicker down in the pit of my stomach. I started to be attracted to him. A man who once performed fake CPR on a kitten his distraught six-year-old niece was adamant was no longer alive because it had been asleep for longer than ten minutes.  A man who could quote my favorite old Kevin Smith movies. A man who kept telling me repeatedly how it finds it fascinating I could be so sick and worn down, and yet honestly happy with life at the same time. 

       When Doctor W asked, I told him about how my past relationships hadn't had the strength to deal with the backbreaking weight of my illness. I told him I did not plan on ever putting another person I cared about through the ordeal again in the future.  He insisted that the right guy would understand. He said that someone who really loves you doesn't care about anything else.

       My mind started to wander. Would it be possible that a doctor could fall for a patient? Of course, there are ethical issues, but in the late/early night/morning over-tired haze of cafeteria light, I considered it. Who better to understand the physical and emotional toll of an illness? Someone who would fight alongside you to make sure you were getting the best care and treatment options. How amazing would it be to not have to always worry that he would bail out because he couldn't possibly have known what he was getting into? Could someone like him, someone who would truly know the extent of what living my life entails, possibly love me despite everything… 

       “Doctor W? Will you be joining the team for report?” Dr. Lisa Lea, a tall, pretty brunette  general medicine intern snapped me back to reality. Without us noticing, the morning medical staff had started to trickle into the cafeteria to stock up on caffeine before morning rounds. Dr. Lea was trying to be subtle about sizing up our little gathering with a critical eye. “Feeling well, Jane? Everything okay through the night? It’s good to see that you've gained some weight. Don’t worry too much about all that steroid puffiness in your face. That will go away.”

     I was quickly sucked into the pitiful realization of the situation. I was not a person that Doctor W ended up realizing was remarkable and wanted to hang out while he had some free time. I was a pathetic sob story. He felt sorry for me. Here I was, his age and instead of living life I was staring at a vending machine wishing for a taste of greasy chips. I was hooked up to machines, so bloated from fluids, my face a gray medicated pallor. I was so angry at myself! I wanted to jump out of my seat and convince him that I wasn't like this all the time.  I used to be pretty and I know we could get along and have fun out in the real world.

      “She’d be doing a lot better if I’d have let her sleep at all instead of making her listen to my bad jokes and keep me company during a slow night of on-call duty. Get some rest, kiddo," Doctor W walked away to join his colleagues without even once looking back.

       And with that, I was deduced to humiliated and pathetic. What the hell was I thinking?! Guys don't look at me the way they look at girls like Dr. Lisa Lea. I was so angry for even letting myself think for a split second that he saw me as more than a friend. Ha! Even 'friend' seemed like a joke! Hot Doctor only felt sorry for me like a jock would take pity on a dork sitting alone in the school cafeteria. I thought we had actually gotten along. Clicked in a way that made him want to spend that extra time with me. Why could I not have run into him while out downtown with my friends? All dressed up and having fun like a real human. Another joke – that was never going to happen. 

       

                                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

       It wasn't downtown and I certainly wasn't dressed up, but I was eighteen pounds thinner, wearing makeup and a cute sundress from a day out shopping with Nikki. I took a breath. All I wanted was for him to see me like a normal person. To know he's seen me look how other girls do. I needed me being some really nice sick girl he felt sorry for not to be his only impression of me. I wanted him to know that from now on when he does see me sick, it isn't impossible for him to imagine me as anything more.

       “Doctor W?” He looked at me and said ‘Hi’ with the polite vacant smile of someone who has absolutely no idea who you are. Oh my God.  I want to disappear right now. This is my worst nightmare. I’m about to foolishly remind him he’s been my doctor for the past eighteen months when I see my face register with him.

       “Jane?! Oh my gosh! I completely did not recognize you! Wow...you look gor-g- great! You look great!” He is smiling that million watt smile at me and I finally start to breathe again. We spend the next ten minutes talking and catching up. He asks me all about my summer pausing frequently to look me over and comment on how wonderfully healthy I look.  Finally, I say I need to be getting back to my friend. “It was really good to see you, Jane,” he said. 

        I walked back over to Nikki making sure to keep composed while I was still within his view.  Doctor W had finally seen Jane the girl.  In a nice dress out in the real world and had a real conversation with her. Not out of doctor-patient necessity. Not out of pity. As two equal acquaintances bumping into each other.

       “Tell me everything! He’s is so frigging cute – no wonder you call him Hot Doctor!” Nikki begged for the details as soon as we were out of earshot. I was looking forward to telling her every word but first, without turning around, I asked her, “Do one thing for me? Check and see if he’s watching me walk away.” He was. 

Updates and Explanations October 10, 2012

 Hi Friends! 

       I just wanted to quickly answer some of your questions and concerns about why there hasn't been a post in quite awhile. After feeling so good during the past six months, a few weeks ago I started to notice some symptoms creeping into my days here and there. This is the longest stretch I've been out of the hospital in over five years. It may sound silly, but being able to cook supper and chaperon field trips has been the most incredible dream come true for me. Some people catch 11:11 on the clock or blow out  birthday candles wishing for love, money, vacations, luxuries. All I've wished for in the past ten years is to be well enough to be a normal full-time mom in every sense of the word. To be present for every laugh, every cry and everything in between. I'm so incredibly fulfilled being home everyday with my son that it was very hard for me to bite the bullet and start paying attention to what my body was telling me. I ended up having to receive treatment at the hospital everyday. (As an outpatient so far - whew!)  Tomorrow I'm having surgery. It's not a major procedure but it will be a rough week or so of recovery. Now that I've had a taste of normal life, the last thing I want is to have to be admitted.

       More importantly, I want to Thank You for all the support and well wishes. It is very appreciated and brightens my day to get encouragement during long hours at the clinic.
       If you really miss me though - why not take a look back to where it all began and then enjoy some my favorite stories! The first is the link to my very first post. Wow - I was so nervous about finally putting myself out there, I honestly felt as though I was posting naked pictures of myself online! Yikes! Now - less than five months, almost 9,000 views  and countless amazing comments later - I couldn't be happier.

My Name Isn't Jane.... http://janeagainsttheworld.blogspot.ca/2012/06/my-name-isnt-jane.html

Here are the top three most read posts!

January 2003 - http://janeagainsttheworld.blogspot.ca/2012/08/january-2003.html

It All Started With The Lipstick -  http://janeagainsttheworld.blogspot.ca/2012/07/it-all-started-with-lipstick.html

Remnants. August 24, 2012 -  http://janeagainsttheworld.blogspot.ca/2012/08/remnants-august-24-2012.html

Interesting how the raciest posting has the most views. I guess there's a little 50 Shades Of Gray in all of us, huh ladies? ;)

Thank You again for all your continued support - it means the world to me! I promise new content very soon!

Love, 
 Jane xo