Thursday, 29 October 2015

Less than 24 hours

Today could actually be the last day my foot and leg are entrapped in this thing. 

Although it is beautiful; Kristy's favorite colour. 

Tomorrow morning I get it sawed off. I can't even start to describe my elation. 

I wonder if they'll use a chain saw?

I never want to see another cast again for the rest of my life. And the crutches - I'd like to smash into a gazillion pieces and throw them into outer space. 

Which I'm sure is totally realistic. 

I've been the clutziest (?) person in the history of crutch handlers. 

I am crunching along, minding my business, when one crutch decides to take an alternate route, leaving me spinning and my head flopping all over the place. 

I've managed to balance myself on each stair climbing up and reach the top only to nearly topple backward slamming my head into the floor. 

I've managed to fall going up the stairs, landing on my arms, breathing, once again, like darth vader. 

I've managed to fall backward on an escalator. It was classy as hell though. 

My crutches have fallen on our new hardwood floor a minimum of 3/day. Oops Brad, my bad. 

Today my crutch slipped on the wet floor, sending my arm into the wall and my friends holding me up. 

I've gotten many guesses on how I broke my foot. 

"Sports accident?"

"Rock climbing?"

"Kick your husband?"

And then I tell them the truth. At a wedding. On the dance floor. 

"Oh, break dancing?"

I'm a bad ass break dancer. 

My bones aren't what they used to be. Remember that grandma shuffle? Hmmm, seems grandma is trying to make a comeback. 

I owe a lot. I owe a months worth of coffee runs to my colleagues. 

I owe drives to friends. 

I owe many many walks to my furry boys.

And I owe a years worth of cleaning to Brad.

Kris, I know you'll miss the purple cast. 
I'm sorry, but I won't. 

But, I miss you. 💚

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Story Time

I shared my story today. 

I hold back a lot. I feel like there is a time and place to share. Sometimes I feel like I'm imposing or something. I don't want people to feel like I'm pushing them into registering to be a donor or whatever craziness they decide is happening. 

But today I felt you there. 

So I told my story.

And in the process, yes, I hope it made them consider registering. 

I'm extremely grateful for my chunkers. Grateful that I'm healthy. That my lungs haven't decided to exit stage left. 

For reasons beyond me, I'm still here. Breathing in. Breathing out. 

Each day I wake is miraculous. I shouldn't even be here. But for some reason I am. 

So I will keep respecting whatever it is that's keeping me here. Honour my donor. 

And live for the both of us. 

Make that, the three of us. 

For you - Mark and Kristy. 💚

Monday, 26 October 2015


Years ago, Mondays used to excite me. I would wake and feel charged and ready to go to work. 

Then I got sick.  My crusties started ripping up the place. 

And Mondays didn't mean the same thing. 

They were just another day. Another day like the rest. Except that everyone else went to work except me. I stayed home and tried to fill my day. Got sleep. Did my treatments. Looked after the lungs. Tried to eat. Or plugged in my feeding tube. 

Brad would come home and ask me how my day was and I would say "same as every other".

Or, sometimes I would have something else exciting. Like "I took Griffin for an extra long walk" or "I managed to make the bed today".

The last while I've dreaded Mondays. Perhaps because things at work aren't ideal. Perhaps because my cast and crutches are so destructible that I have a hate on for anything involving physical activity. 

Or, perhaps because I'm just simply tired. 

Today, I woke with a new attitude. You don't have anymore Mondays here. So I changed my perspective. 

I approached the day like you would have. I was ok with Monday. I was ok with annoyances at work. I was ok with what was supposed to be a simple summer-to-winter-tire-switch that turned into a you're-screwed-with-a-$1000-bill. 

Things could always be worse. You aren't here. You would love to stil be here with a $1000 car bill. 

So I am ok with this Monday.

For you Kris. For you. 💚

Sunday, 25 October 2015

The day after

Today isn't any easier. Not that I expected it to be. 

I woke and felt...exhausted. It was as though I was hung over. Except I only had one glass of wine yesterday. 

However I did have a junk load of sugar yesterday. So I guess. 

I stumbled downstairs to toast and a full cup of coffee, compliments of Brad. 

Kris, you will be a part of all my mornings. 

I played all the songs today from your funeral. And I cried. A lot. 

I miss you so much. I keep wanting to text you. But you're not there. You'll never be there again. 

I need to trust that you are now everywhere. That you are even closer than you were. That if I want to go for a walk and talk out loud, I won't be a crazy person because I will be talking to you.

I will try really hard to be strong, Kris. 

I love you 💚

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Celebration of life

Kris. It was beautiful. Just like you. 

The music, the words, the purple sand, the Mickey Mouse, the live laugh lungs. 

You would have been so proud.

Of Derek. Of Jim. Of Suzie. 

They love you so much; the kind of love we all crave. 

I threw sand. We all threw sand. I won't ever say goodbye though. Never. You are here. You are all around us. 

Jim says he has an open door. Your friends will visit and tell lots of stories. Probably some they've never heard. 

So, watch out! Secrets exposed!

I'm at the airport now. I wish I could stay longer. I wish I could explore this city with you. Montreal would never be the same. 

You were more than a friend. You were family. Our lung family is connected in much deeper ways then we can explain. 

One day we will all be together again. 

Until then, I promise to live life the way you'd want me to. I know you'll be there. You'll be watching. 

I love you. So much that I bought this at the airport. I will drink out of it everyday for you:

Sleep well my friend. Although, as we all know, wherever you are, you're having a good time. Making friends and playing Mexican Train. 


We all arrived together...after getting lost, asking for directions and then going around in circles (love you Gramps). 

I felt my throat closing and my stomach rolling around. I didn't think I could face it. I still don't. 

But we had each other. Marie-Eve, Danny, Giselle, Pamela and my Gramps. 

We saw Derek first. I tried so hard to be strong. I failed. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to break down, but I did. 

I don't like living in a world where there's no Kristy. It doesn't make sense. 

We saw your casket. Touched it. Even then I wanted you to pop around the corner and yell "Fooled ya!"

Some thoughts don't make sense. But this whole thing doesn't make sense. 

I saw your mom and dad. They are holding it together, just like Derek, but all I want to so is hug them and never let go. 

I saw Aunt Louise! How long has it been? Since my crusty chunkers! That's how long!

We all ate together afterward. I had a couple of glasses of wine for you. I thought you'd like that. It was white btw. 

I'm sitting here, waiting to meet everyone to head out. We have to be early. You are very very popular. Incredibly special. 

Your dad is doing your eulogy. 

Marie-Eve and I have lots of Kleenex. 

I will tell you all about it. 

I love you 💚

Friday, 23 October 2015

Freddy Town

Landed safely, despite our plane from Halifax being the size of an outhouse. 

All good. Landed and my body was in one piece. Cast still in place - unfortunately. 

Ummm, Fredericton airport is the tinest little thing. Like the underdog. But, the people are nice. The security dude offered to sign my cast. Obviously cause he thinks I'm awesome.

Finally I see Pamela and Gramps' faces. I feel at home with them. Safer. 

We are now on board a normal size flying machine and about to take off for Montreal. 

Kristy, we are on our way. 💚