Loss

Six days ago, I was pregnant. Four days later, I was not. Technically this is termed a 'chemical pregnancy'. But to me I lost my baby. A baby my husband and I so desperately want. A baby that took us almost a year to conceive. I had 4 days of euphoria, followed by days of such sadness that all I want to do is sleep. My husband has been so amazing and I have found therapy in his loving arms and have medicated myself with my puppy's kisses and cuddles. I have also found support from my friends on TheBump, who were so excited for my 'BFP' and have sent such lovely notes to me. Some of them, unfortunately, have lived the same experience. Through them I know I will mend. But for now I still feel pretty broken.

Namaste

Today I did something I haven't done in a long time. I went to yoga. I haven't done it in years. I substituted it for running. I was that pompous runner who felt that running was the only true form of exercise. Why walk when you can run? That was my motto. But then I hurt my hip.

Turns out running didn't love my body as much as my body loved running. I sustained an injury -- a torn labrum in my right hip. No more running for me. I need to do something though. So I turned back to yoga. And I'm wondering why I ever left.

It is so rejuvenating. I love the feel of my muscles stretching, the feeling of stress leaving my body as I breathe. Sure it's not the same feeling I got when I had Lady Gaga blaring on my iPOD and I was taking a challenging hill. But it's a good feeling. A peaceful feeling. As I get more and more frustrated with my TTC journey - it's a centered feeling I feel that I need.

And who knows .... maybe someday I'll be able to do this ....

A new hope!

Many people don't really know what a nurse does. Most people think all we do is wipe bums and put people on bedpans. Being in cancer care, most of my patients are self-sufficient and I don't go anywhere near their bums. I'm sure they're thankful for this as much as I am. One thing I do that would surprise many (as I see my patients and their families are surprised when they find out) is bone marrow transplants.

The mere word 'transplant' makes you think the procedure is very complicated and the doctor would have to do it. But to be honest, it's very similar to a blood or platelet transfusion, is done at the bedside and is done by your nurse. The doctor is only present for autologous transplants, where the patients gets their own cells back, and that's because of the preservative present in the cells.

I always feel very honored to be the person to give someone their stem cells. It's giving them new life, new hope. Hope for a cancer free future. Hope to live to see their grandchild be born. Hope to live to graduate high school. Hope to see another Christmas. Hope for so many things. And I am a part of it.

I won't lie. Even after all this time the transplant process chokes me up. Usually there's many family members present, pics are being taken. It's a big deal. I spike the cells and although my patients don't know, I say a little prayer for them as I begin to infuse their cells. I only let myself feel good vibes and positive thoughts.

So the next time you think of what a nurse does, maybe you'll realize that we do a lot more than people realize. We help give people new life. New hope.

Man I love my job .....

Breaking Points

This week I have hit a breaking point. Well 2 actually. A breaking point in my TTC (trying to conceive) journey and a breaking point in my weight gain. With respect to TTC --- my husband and I have been trying for many months now. Our one year anniversary is fast approaching at which time we will see a specialist. For the last number of months I have been charting (for those of you interested go to FertilityFriend.com) and using OPKs (ovulation predictor kits). Still, nothing is working. I feel TTC has started to overwhelm me. I had a little emotional breakdown with my husband the other day, so we both decided to scale back our efforts for the moment. No more thermometer, no more ovulation strips. Just me & him. Trying to enjoy the last couple of months of our first year of marriage. We'll deal more with TTC after seeing the specialist. That was my first breaking point.

Then came my weight. I'm getting so tired of waking up and having absolutely nothing to wear. Tired of feeling awkward in my own skin. So I decided to count Weight Watcher points again. This time I'm doing something a little different though. I'm getting my whole family in on it! We have a little weight loss challenge going on. A friendly little wager. We are doing weekly weigh-ins similar to the Biggest Loser and whoever has the largest % weight loss in the end, wins the prize money. First week went well. I lost 4.6 pounds!! Being a very competitive person is helping me this time.

So I'm shifting my focus from one thing to another. I feel good about it. I'm still sad and frustrated that it seems so hard for us to get pregnant. But it is what it is. I'm leaving it in God's hands for now. I'm going to focus on getting myself healthier, emotionally and physically. The rest will fall into place.

The Gym

I was supposed to go to the gym today. And yesterday. And the day before that. But here's the thing --- I'm a master of excuses. I can think of (seemingly) valid reasons why I couldn't possibly go to the gym. Mainly it's 'I'm too busy' followed up with "I'm too tired". Let's not forget the frequently used "I don't have time" or I even sometimes think "I'll just eat less". I see them for what they're worth. Excuses.

But still here I sit. Getting fatter. Lazier. I do feel more tired than ever. And I know it's because I don't get any physical activity. In my head I know exactly what I need to do. Eat less & move more. But I keep eating. And gaining. I think part of me does it because similar to an alcoholic I think, 'I can stop anytime'. But this is obviously not true. I am miserable. I. Am. Miserable. What is it going to take?

Life Without Her

I grew up with a special someone in my home. My mother's aunt Threasa. She was deprived of oxygen at birth and subsequently had severe mental delays. She functioned at the capacity of a 5 year old for the most part. She loved coloring, teddy bears and playing with children. I remember as a teenager I would get annoyed with her. But as we grew up she was like our little sister. She was a permanent fixture in our life. Then she got cancer.

I remember the phone call with my mom. Threasa had not been feeling well and they took her to a specialist's appointment. Her GP kept saying it was UTIs. We all knew there was something more. She was not herself. Not eating. Losing weight and strength. My mom told me as I was on the train from Toronto to Windsor to visit good friends. It was cancer. Inoperable, untreatable cancer. It looks like it started in the bowel and was now engulfing the liver. They estimated weeks to months for her life.

I was devastated. I went to the bathroom and cried and cried. Thankful that the train was loud and people couldn't hear me. But I'm sure they saw it on my face as I walked back to my seat. I was losing my 'little' sister. And not only was I not at home, I was heading further away. My visit with my friend was short. I didn't feel like partying or celebrating. I wanted to be home with my family in Cape Breton. I got home to Toronto on Sunday. Threasa had stopped peeing. As a nursing student I knew this was bad. I booked a flight and got home late Monday night. My father picked me up at the airport and we drove home with my brother. Threasa was still awake when I got home. Her voice was weak and she was in bed. But she said to me, 'Shauna, you came home to take care of me.' And I choked on my words. But I said, "Yes. Yes I did". And I did.

We kept vigil at her bedside until Thursday morning at just after 6 in the morning when she died in her own bed, surrounded by her teddy bears. I was graduating from nursing that year and was familiar with what had to be done. I could give her medication through her butterfly once she could no longer swallow. I was happy that I could do this for her. For my mom. We knew that Threasa would be to terrified to be in the hospital.

It has been 5 years now. And I still miss her. She never got to meet my husband. Never knew that the child my sister was carrying when Threasa died was indeed a girl, as Threasa said it was. But I have faith that she somehow sees us. Or feels us. Loving her from a far.

Good question ....

It never fails. Whenever someone finds out what I do they inevitably ask, "Why did you want to be a nurse?". 'Good question' is usually what I end up saying. But the truth is - sometimes I sit back and wonder myself how I ended up here. Why did I chose a job that would make me witness to some of the saddest, most horrific moments of a person's life? A job that requires me to do shiftwork, which research shows shortens a person's lifespan? A job that requires me to handle medications, such as chemo, that if I get too much on me, could give me cancer? Good question.

I didn't always want to be a nurse. Up until I was 14 I wanted to be a teacher. An elementary school teacher. Then my grandfather had a stroke. I spent that whole summer visiting him. Everyday my mom and I would head over to see him. I fell in love with the hospital. Sounds weird I know. But I really did. I was fascinated with the equipment. I was amazed at how the doctors and nurses cared for the patients around me. I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to be a doctor.

I could go on for awhile about why I'm not a doctor. But the short version is - I didn't get in. I applied to medical school a couple of times, interviewed, got short listed and then didn't get in. Don't feel bad for me. Please. I truly believe things in life happen for a reason. I wasn't meant to be a doctor. I was meant to be a nurse. You see doctors are removed from patients. Nurses are side by side. Taking every step with the patient. We're the ones applying the cold facecloth on the febrile patient. The one holding the hand of the crying, fearful patient. The one hugging the husband who just lost his wife of 66 years. My life directed me to nursing for a reason. To be there for others. Cheesy? I know it is. But it's true.

So here I sit on a nightshift - shortening my lifespan. But hopefully I'm also making a difference in a few people's lives at the same time.