Merry Christmas everyone!

It's the night of the 23rd. My period has started, I have a terrible head cold, I feel like shit.

And I'm stressed. I haven't hit that zen-like calm yet reinforcing what has been done is all that will be done and there is no point worrying about it any longer. That little voice that says "Have a stiff drink. Relax. Go to bed." And I can't because my head feels so heavy I think it's going to fall off and roll under the Christmas tree.

Just so that you don't think I'm completely out of Christmas spirit, Paul and I just finished watching A Christmas Carol with Alastair Sim and feeling heart warmed I took a picture of Jakob & Paul cuddled in a chair pulled in to the kitchen beside our little tree.

Outside of the teetering on bankruptcy from the sheer commercialization of the holiday and the pressure to buy, buy, BUY!!! - I really do love Christmas, with all the lights, decorations, carols, tv specials, good will stories, time with family, the food, the cheer, the excitement...

But what do I get Norm? I'm running out of time!

3 days until Christmas.

I don't know whether to hide myself away in my bedroom, rest my head on my arms and weep, open a bottle of wine...so many options but so much to do. And I feel helpless and frustrated. Thankfully all of my presents are wrapped. I have spent so many hours in purgatory, I mean the filthy attic, wrapping the gifts that once finished I finally emerged and told Satchel that every present he gets this year I thought of, I bought and I wrapped...and he had better be thrilled. PMS is a dangerous time.

I'm sitting here at my island in a bathrobe and drinking tea. I'm not feeling great today - my head hurts, I have a cold, my period is starting, my chest mound hurts, I'm not sleeping...to sum up, I feel like crap.

FIrst I have to tell you that I actually made it to my sons' Christmas concert at the school. I was thrilled! Jakob sang three songs with his kindergarten class (there is nothing more adorable than seeing the little ones perform - especially Jakob when he decided he was hot in his sweater and started stripping off on stage and then wrapped the sweater around his head like a turban until a teacher finally reached over and took it away), Satchel sang 2 songs with his class and he was selected for the steel drum band and performed for the first time in front of an audience. They were both fantastic.





John the contractor came over to walk through the house and complete the final deficiency list. We both buried the hatchet - in a way men do, we avoided the whole issue that we had as if it never happened. I being the bigger person, even offered him a glass of wine. Once the barn door is complete, the amount of work that still needs to be done could be completed in roughly a day. And then, this nasty, financially destroying event will be over. OVER! I'm keeping my fingers crossed for mid-January,

Jakob turned 5 today!

How this happened I have no idea, sometimes I wish I could just slow the time down a little.

The day started with opening presents and then having breakfast. We saved the big present for after breakfast. A present far bigger than I expected: a race track which took up the entire floor of the library and took Paul roughly 3 hours to to put together.

After the presents, Satchel and Jakob put together a gingerbread train which was fantastic. Normally I pick up a traditional gingerbread house with the romantic notion of how wonderful it will be for the children to put it together. I end up a lunatic trying to fight the affects of gravity pulling down the roof; damaging my children as I curse a blue streak. But this train was amazingly civilized - it went together so well. Not once did I feel the need to pull out a bottle of wine from our stash. Not once!

At 3pm we had the neighbours over and Paul's brother Yves to help celebrate Jakob's birthday and share in some birthday cake chosen by Jakob: chocolate cake with chocolate pudding in between the layers and chocolate icing. Jakob was vibrating after consuming one small piece.

Now it's dinner time and I'm making his favourite dinner: Taco Pizza. I'll wrap the night up later.

Happy Birthday Jakob! You still are the most wonderful Christmas present I have ever been given.

Love Mommy xoxoxoxox

Big fight with the contractor yesterday.

He casually tried to slip in that he will be billing us the cost for having the two doors restained - and quite a bit of money especially since he'd be tacking on his 21% change order fee and GST on top of the $300. I LOST IT.

I ended up writing a not very nice email saying we refused to pay the amount; that it was his fault, he's our contractor and we should be able to request a colour and get the colour we asked for, not get the completely wrong colour and then have to pay to fix it. I didn't include "you fucker" though I really wanted to.

He wrote back the nastiest email ever - even trying to bully us by saying he'll take the doors away and replace them with commercial grade and how he took a special interest in our project and has gone beyond the call of duty, and it wasn't his fault...it was NASTY. I felt like saying "good luck using the doors on another project, considering they are SCRATCHED."

I was completely enraged and of coursed forwarded the whole exchange to my friend who was shocked by his behaviour and said that was the last straw for her, she will not be having him bid on a project for her.

Paul sent an email placating him and he responded "fine, we'll split the amount." I said "fine, whatever, I want this DONE."

I am sick of him and sick of the whole process. They were supposed to be finished November 15 and here we are approaching Christmas. God help the people he doesn't take a special interest in.

If I end up having a couple glasses of wine tonight - I just might have to post the whole exchange.

I find I'm not sleeping well and I'm not sure why. I wonder if it's because I stopped taking my heavy drugs since they just weren't doing it for me anymore. If only I had more pills left, I would hobble down to Queen St and try to sell them; I hear they have a good street value and might help pay for some of this renovation.

I was down at Princess Margaret Hospital this morning for an 8:45 appointment with Dr. McCready (my oncologist surgeon) and after waiting for an hour I finally saw him. I always forget how boyishly cute he is until he smiles. He checked out my chest mound and said with his big toothy grin "that looks just great!" Paul says I should stop calling my chest mound a chest mound, that it might be depressing me. I think he finds it kind of icky.

But I have to say, I have NEVER had so many positive remarks about my breasts until I had to lose one and replace it with a CHEST MOUND. I feel a bit like Pamela Anderson - more than a bit actually.

Anyway, he reiterated that it was strictly DCIS and my lymph nodes were clear but did suggest seeing a radiologist to get their opinion because it was such a close margin. In his opinion he didn't feel I needed radiation. I'm hoping not to go through with it because it would ruin the natural look created by my fabulous plastic surgeon.

On to house news.

Brace yourself, I'm actually including a few pictures. Something my blog has seriously been lacking. I have to tried to make up for this deficiency, mind you, by sharing all the ridiculous drama in my life.

First the insurance company sent over someone to reassess my house so that my insurance payments will only go way up. I did such a sad job tidying the kitchen but thought what a perfect opportunity to finally share what it looks like so far, especially since we picked up a Christmas tree on Saturday. Unfortunately no chance of the tree lasting until Christmas; Haemish, after initially being suspicious of it, now thinks of it as his own personal jungle gym.




After the insurance guy left, Tim arrived to INSTALL THE DOORS FOR THE POWDER ROOM and the entrance to the basement. This makes me so incredibly happy because Jakey has decided that the powder room is his personal pooping room. He arms himself with his Nintendo Gameboy and off he goes for 20 minutes. Longer if I forget about him. The smell is enough to clear the house. And he's such a little guy - he's quite content to just sit there in his own stench for the entire evening, playing his Gameboy, until I pull his little red bottom off of it. And then he complains he's lost all feeling in his legs because the circulation has been cut off forever.

Sorry, I digressed a bit. This living with only guys pushes me over the edge occasionally. Even Arthur the (male) cat refuses to cover his mess in the litter box. He just looks at it with disdain (or maybe it's pride, I don't know) and waddles away.

Here are pictures of the doors.




After Tim left and I finally had a chance to lay down, I heard a knock on the door. It was the electrical inspector to give final inspection. I was cranky because I hadn't been warned he would be coming and you really should never get between me and a nap. But after calls to Paul and to John, I let him in and John showed up minutes later to talk to him. A few things need to be fixed but other than that, everything is fine. The inspector left with the admonition to John to make sure he lets his clients know at least 24 hours in advance before an inspection. John said "Definitely!" and then rolled his eyes.

Now do I try again for what is becoming that elusive nap or do I wait for Ron to show up to finish the plastering and sanding in the powder room before the painters come tonight? I think I just might try.

Excellent news!

I had my first post-op appointment with Dr. Lipa (my plastic surgeon) today and she had a copy of my pathology report: the cancer was contained in the breast, there was no spreading to the lymph nodes. But it was close, 0.09 mm close. A number which had me mixing Baileys in to the left-over coffee when Paul and I returned from the hospital.

House news: not so wonderful. Blown off again by both painters and Ron. At least the heating guys came and installed the humidifier. And there is an advantage to looking like death, the younger one brought up all the recycling bins to my front porch for me.

Time to get another needle for the old voodoo doll.

But I can't describe how relieved I am, now I only have to focus on healing...and harassing the contractor.

I have been retired by my nurse. She came by today to check the incisions and has proclaimed me healed sufficiently and that I will not need further care. She was saddened by the occasion; it was obvious by the emotion and great affection shown that I was her favourite patient. Perhaps because I share the same birthday as her 10-year-old son, perhaps because I'm probably her easiest patient, or perhaps because I offered her cinnamon buns the first time around and sympathized with her early start to the day. She came as close to hugging me good bye as you can someone who has just had major surgery and is walking around like an 80-year-old woman holding her insides together.

Good bye nurse, I never did remember your name.

Ron never showed up today which was disconcerting because he had left a half-ass plastering job in the powder room with the intention of fixing it today and the painters are coming tomorrow to do the final touch up. The Pella guys came today to replace the defective door and found that the replacement door has a good size dent in it and will also need replacing. The three Pella guys were very tall. Incredibly tall. I felt like a young girl beside them - and I'm just shy of 5'10". Maybe it's because I'm stooped and probably closer to 5'7" right now and weigh in at a waifish 127 pounds. But they were so polite and nice and so very very tall...and loud. The main guy spoke in loud booming voice, it was as if he had a bit of a giant gene mixed in to the old DNA cocktail. But I quite liked them and was sad when they finally left over 2 hours later.

Satchel came home with a couple of friends and when the father came to pick up one of the kids he asked if my paleness was due to the surgery and being tired. I said "Definitely, and also because of the constant pain but then there's also all the fabulous drugs I've been given - like heroine."

Oh, I'm just kidding. With all the cut backs to the health care system, they'll only hand out crack.

I think I have managed to modify my blog so that anyone can comment - now if I could only figure out how to determine how many people actually ready it...

With the last bandage removed yesterday, so came my first shower today. I can't even begin to describe how good it felt. Feeling completely invigorated, I was motiviated to get dressed, and not just a clean pair of pj's, actual clothes.

The only downside is that with the removal of the final bandages came the removal of the final bandages. I now have to see myself in all my cut up glory.

The plumber came today and (hopefully) fixed the sink. I could hear swearing from the bathroom but I chose to ignore it. Pella stood me up because it's a "small" job but I am told that they will be here tomorrow. The painters are coming Thursday to fix up the place. The powder room and basement door has been taken away to see what can be done regarding the colour. And the missing hardware, the all important handle, for the french door will be replaced next Wednesday - about time seeing as John knew it disappeared months ago.

Martha is bringing me lunch today, I think I hear her at the door.

I fucking hate this reno process. Fucking hate it. The doors for the basement and powder room just got dropped off and they're the wrong colour - they look like shit. I am so fucking sick of this. Nothing works out. ever. The new pella door has marks all over it that look likes tar.

I'm going to flip out.

Everytime we take a step towards completion we get knocked back two steps.

At this point would I recommend my contractor? NO!

And where is my nurse? I really want to have a nap.

Sunday and the house is quiet. Paul has taken the kids to my office Christmas party. I kind of wanted to go - kept weighing my options: if I pop strong pain killers, put on a clean pair of pajamas and just sit while all the activity swirls around me...well that wouldn't be so bad. And I could have one of the latte's that I have been so desperately missing.

Anyway, I'm here at home in my dirty pajamas, listening to Blue Rodeo on the stereo and enjoying the solitude.

We were blown off again on Friday by the contractor - the plumber and the doors were supposed to come. Paul didn't want to call but he's going back to work on Monday and I'll be up to my own devices. And I'll call, constantly. Between naps anyway.

I was helping Jakob write his letter to Santa yesterday and wanted to share a part of his letter:

Dear Santa,

My name is Jakob. I have been very good this year. I take good care of both my cats, if I hurt people I say sorry and I hug my parents.

Please try to bring the whole family presents, and all the houses...Except for one house: Callum's.

Then he continues with his never ending list of desires. I put the pen down after getting a hand cramp.

I also have to tell you that I weigh the same as what I did in 1991, the year I got married. And my stomach is ridiculously flat with a gigantic smile - a bit old happy face. The verdict is still out on the breast.