It's a beautiful day to prepare

It's a beautiful, sunny, summer day;  the kind I love.

I'm writing outside, with a warm breeze kissing my skin and the scent of flowers tickling my nose. The birds are chirping, the neighbourhood dogs barking and the air conditioner huming. It promises a cool retreat when the day heats up. Aaaah, summer in southerwestern Ontario.

I'm in prep mode today - mentally and physically. I don't have a lot of physical jobs on the agenda because I'm still quite sore. I think the fluid Dr. H drained from my belly had been sitting up under my ribs for too long and now I have a bruise, or owie (the technical term), under my left ribcage.

The jobs occupying the list include cleaning out the fridge and then hitting the grocery store to restock it. I may also putter a bit and clean up the space that will be my home office. I'll blog, respond to emails and write from that locale. That is, when I'm not outside enjoying the day Mother Nature provides.

Mentally, I need to gear up into fighting mode. I've been in a holding pattern for so long that it almost seems surreal that I'm going to get chemo tomorrow and start fighting this nasty disease. I haven't really contemplated how I'll feel this weekend, which may be a good thing since I'll feel absolutely terrible. I need to gather my notebook, my puke bucket, my thermometer and the other assorted paraphenalia associated with getting through the side effects. I've even blocked out some of the items I'll need because I thought I'd put that experience behind me.

Besides, with this waiting, I've felt like I've still got all the time in the world, which of course, now I don't.

The other to-do on my list is to fill the prescription for the anti-nausea medication that I'll start taking tonight. Five pills before bed and then five pills when I wake up. I'll also get some more to take for two days post-chemo to try to keep the nausea and vomiting at bay. It wasn't too bad last time, but if I'm on Olaparib, my experience my be more severe.

Yesterday was an adventure - a long, drawn out adventure - that I shared with my sister, Angie. We got lost a couple of times in Henderson Hospital, which is attached to the cancer clinic, trying to find ECG. Eventually we made it and my heart is just fine, thank you very much.

She sat beside me as I drank the peach-flavoured radioactive juice before my CT scan. I couldn't have anyting to eat or drink after 9 a.m. yesterday morning so when they handed me a cool drink at 1:15, I gulped a good portion of it down. I was parched.

We laughed at our wrong turns, she got me addicted to the brick breaker game on her Blackberry and we shared a very late lunch at the cancer centre cafe (including delicious pecan tarts). Even though I said I could go to this appointment by myself, I was happy for the company. She made it easier and more pleasurable. And thoughtful sister that she is, she even brought me a care-package chemo box filled with treats and chocolate to put in the chemo bag for tomorrow. What a sweetie.

This goregous day marks the last day of preparation because tomorrow the fight begins. I know you'll all be with me every step of the way and we will be victorious over this cancer.

Tina