Where's Lauren?

*waves*

I'm over here.

I've been absent awhile. I know. I have about 3-4 blog posts on a range of topics half written, waiting for me to be inspired to finish them. That inspiration has been buried under an avalanche of curveballs that seem to continue to be sent my way. I have high hopes for 2016 because I am SO done with this year.

I recently have gone through my second job loss this year, and this time around Calgary's economy is further in the toilet than it was in June, by a long shot. In fact I think in many regards, someone has flushed the toilet and closed the lid. It's both terrifying and motivating depending on the day or even time of day you ask me.

I'm looking for work: something that is the right fit and gets me excited. At the same time, I'm also working to build up my business, Write.Brand.Image. I'm fortunate that I already have a few small projects to work on, although I know I will need to increase that a lot more to be able to stay afloat. I've thought about relocation but I am just not sure I am ready for that yet. For now I'm going to concentrate on growing my business and considering all the options out there.

There are a lot of people here out of work. Thousands and thousands of workers (120,000 ish?) at all levels, across the province. Suicide is up 30% this year. Engineers, project managers, administrative assistants, oilfield workers, trades. I made the mistake of reading "the comments" on a few articles on the subject of layoffs and our economy. There is a sentiment out there that Calgarians somehow deserved this; that so many of us "oil workers" have not planned for a rainy day and have been living beyond our means (so not true on many levels). Many of the unemployed aren't even oil and gas workers (me!) but the trickle down effect is already well underway.

There is also this comment section notion that many of the unemployed should go and work in retail or fast food jut to have some money coming in. From what I've heard though, the service industry isn't wanting to hirer many of those out of work 'office types" because they know many won't stay in those roles. It's true. Frustrating for all, but true. In the office world, there are a fair number of really junior roles being posted for probably half or a third of what people were making a year ago. Even those with extensive experience willing to work at reduced rates are not getting hired, probably for the same reason they can't get the service industry jobs. It's no wonder people are feeling less than positive.

In my case, I've been a bit overwhelmed by the generosity and kind, motivating and constructively helpful words several people have sent my way over the last few weeks. I had a couple of pretty low points but because of these caring folks, I've rallied back and feel I'm in the best position to move forward and kick some butt in 2016.

As a public service announcement, if you know people who are struggling with job loss or looming job loss, reach out and say hello to them. Listen. Don't try to fix their problems because you probably can't. Avoid the cliches like "everything happens for a reason..." and "this will make you so much stronger" or "at least xxxx hasn't happened to you" or "lots of other people are unemployed too". Encourage but don't over cheerlead. Buy them a coffee. Offer them a brief distraction. Invite them for dinner. Do things that give them hope and help them see real options. Offer specific help like watching their kids or pets or giving them a ride somewhere because they probably won't want to ask for help. Let them know you are thinking about them. And, again, listen.

Perspective

I've been learning a lot this week about perspective and how different mine can be from that of others. In some cases, having a good discussion about the other person's outlook on thing can bring clarity, understanding and acceptance. I may not completely see things their way but I can accept how events made them think and feel, and what they saw as the important issue, and how that may have differed from my initial take on things.

In another case, delving deeper into the other person's view on things has actually caused more confusion, and has made me realize we are further apart on things in life than I thought. Some people are so sure their perspective is the only way of looking at things, that they shut out all the alternatives and feelings of others involved. It's funny, but  dealing with this latter situation, has made me realize I needed to be more aware and open minded about the other person's perspective in the first situation, and that I was in the wrong.

Cryptic right?

It is. In the first situation, I realized that I was making things more about me than they should have been and that in one area, I wasn't being completely truthful in how I viewed events - not with myself or with the other person. A molehill became a mountain because of it and I regret that a lot. I reacted in a way that wasn't in keeping with who I am, or how I treat people and I made it worse by not owning my mistake.

In the second situation, the other party basically did the same thing to me. When confronted with a concern I had with their behaviour and how they were treating me, they insisted all the problems were because of me and couldn't see how they were contributing to the issue, or how they could be doing things differently. They blamed me for how I was feeling. I recognized this and more importantly how it made me feel. While these two situations were not related at all, it opened my eyes to how I could be doing things differently. I've always thought I was pretty good at seeing both sides of a dispute or issue, but I can see now where I'm maybe a little more egocentric in some situations than I should be. A little too black and white. And not empathetic enough.

Lessons, lessons everywhere.

Trust

Trust is a funny thing. It's kind of like a gas tank on a car. We all have one. Some of us cruise around life with it pretty full all the time. Others seem to be running on empty for multiple periods of their lives. A lot of our ability to refill or top up our tanks comes from being able to on one hand, hone our instincts as to who to trust while on the other hand being able to see someone else's perspective, forgive and let go. It also requires us to see everyone as an individual, and not paint people with the same brush as those you may have known before. Not the easiest thing to do at times, but imperative if you ever want to have any kind of meaningful human interaction, and also for you to be able to function at full capacity in the world.

The Internet says trust is believing that the person who is trusted will do what is expected. It starts at the family and grows to others. The development of basic trust is the first state psycho-social development occurring, or failing, during the first two years of life. Success results in feelings of security, trust, and optimism, while failure leads towards an orientation of insecurity and mistrust possibly resulting in attachment disorders.

Assuming you make it past this phase successfully, things can still certainly happen later in life that can make us find it difficult to trust others. Friendships gone wrong, bad co-worker or employer relationships. Bad things sometimes happen to us, and it can take a lot out of our trust supply tank.

This year I got to know a few people who had a hard time trusting. I can empathize; I myself have had periods where I was running low on trust. Some had very good reasons to not trust. One in particular really did. I think he wanted to but just couldn't get beyond the past. It sadly ended up costing us our friendship which I really wish had not happened. But my take-away (there is always a takeaway) is that because of him, I actually learned to trust more and the importance of trusting again. Events of the last couple of years had me doubting a lot of things - my instincts about people, relationships and how to navigate all that stuff. His vulnerability and honesty about trust issues allowed me to feel safe opening up to him and allowed me to start trusting other people and myself more. I also saw the flip-side where a complete inability to trust, even people who were quite loyal and trustworthy (like me),could paralyze a person, limiting opportunity and effectively, happiness. I also learned that only you can top up your own tank -  surrounding yourself with honest, good people helps, but that on its own isn't enough. You are always going to encounter people who aren't truthful, However, by shutting everyone out to protect yourself, you can really miss out on a lot of great people, experiences and opportunities. And nobody wins.

I think this was a big lesson for me this year (there have certainly been a lot of lessons), and one I really needed to go through. I feel like this last year has been an unexpected learning curve, and I'm only somewhere in the middle of it now. There is something to be said for the mid-life crisis myth actually being a thing (and does not necessarily manifest itself only through buying a sports car). Interesting.

The Magical Mystical Dude

There is a myth in our world about this magical mystical dude. Actually, there are supposed to be several magical, mystical dudes out there, and of that several, one has been specifically designed to be "the one" for you. Some call these mysterious creatures soul mates. Others refer to these elusive unicorns in catchier lingo like "Mr. Right". When you meet him you are just supposed to "know it" (he'll "complete you" after all). And then, the rest, as they say, is history.

Here's the reality. This magic mystical dude does not exist out there for everyone. Not everyone is going to meet one person, preferably whilst in their 20's, marry and spend happily-every-after with them. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Once upon a time I believed wholeheartedly in the magical mystical dude. I was going to find mine, capture him, woo him with my many charms and we'd live happily ever after. I bought the dream the rom-coms sell us. Then I grew up and realized, while for some people the magical mystical dude is a real thing, for me and a lot of other people, he's not.

Someone recently called me a cynic - and I want to be clear that I'm not. I believe in the good in people and am highly optimistic about pretty much everything. I believe in love and passion.  I believe in the importance of healthy adult relationships. I think soulmates are real, although the definition isn't what a lot of people think. I've even been in love a few times (gasp! you can be in love more than once?!?) and I know I will be in love again before my time here is done. I'm a Libra after all, and I think we are supposed to be in love with being in love. Or something.

The idea that there is one person out there for everyone, that I haven't found my magic mystical dude and therefore need to keep searching, as though my life depends on it, is silly. Like he is out there - I just need to look harder for him or I'll miss out. Really?

I've had some great relationships that didn't last forever - but I wouldn't change those experiences for anything. I'd like to assure everyone who has concern for older single folks that we are not incomplete because we don't have our very own magical mystery dudes. I haven't missed anything. I have a fantastic career, good people in my life, my very own zoo, my own house and a plethora of great life moments (with more on the way). My life is pretty rich.

I've been thinking about this post and the idea of the magical mystical dude for quite awhile. Dating when you are 40-ish is different than dating when you are 25. People aren't looking to "build a life" together the same way they perhaps were in their younger years. I think ultimately, people are looking for support, companionship and chemistry. Commitment and what that looks like varies from person to person, couple to couple. There isn't a magic formula or a neat little box things fit into. Many people my age who are "dating" have been divorced and/or have had significant relationships end. Kids are often involved. People are leery of jumping into new living arrangements or marriage. Not because we are cynics - because priorities and needs have shifted. If you are lucky you find a great person who is looking for, needing and wanting similar things, who you can spend time with - whatever that looks like. Live more in the moment. There is less of an end game than when you are younger. Or a another kind of one. Things are different - and again, it's totally okay that is the case.

Now granted she isn't my most favourite person, but while I was pondering this topic, someone shared this post by Arlene Dickinson on Facebook. And I think it makes a good point and articulates a lot of what I've been feeling and witnessing as a single person who doesn't have the magical mystical dude in her life.

I think as we get older, there are some areas of our lives (and it's different for everyone) where we don't have the luxury of wearing the rose-coloured glasses all the time. Being realistic and managing expectations (both your own and others) is not the same thing as cynicism or pessimism. It is normal to adapt expectations too. We do in our careers, our friendships and family relationships - and no one would ever think to call that pessimistic or "settling".

I'm happy. I have what I need right now. And while I love that well-meaning, super-awesome friends wanted me to find my magical mystical dude and some kind of happily-ever-after traditional relationship, and are sad that I haven't, please know I'm doing just fine.

My People

I haven't posted in awhile. I wish I had a good reason for it - like jet-setting vacations or some other fantastical series of events. Truth is, 2015 keeps giving me little jabs and kicks (and some bigger punches) and I've had trouble figuring out what to write about without sounding overly negative. I'm generally a very positive person but this just hasn't been my year. And the more I try to think about something good to write about, the bigger the block has become.

However some recent no-so-great events have got me thinking a lot about some of the really special people in my life. I'm lucky to have some pretty great individuals in a few areas of my life but one group of these awesome people in particular, are on my mind even more as of late.

As most people know, I am adopted. I grew up after the 8 day mark in a really good family. I was (and am) loved and was given opportunities to learn and experience many amazing things. Despite all this, I was always curious about "where I came from", which is a totally normal thing for us adopted folk to, at the very least, ponder. When I was in my mid 20s, I was fortunate to be able to track down my birth mom. We exchanged letters and emails and one Friday night met at an East Side Marios for the first time. I was very nervous (and she was too) but after a few minutes of looking at the face of someone who actually looked like me (a first for me), I felt oddly at ease.

The next night, I attended a BBQ where I think I met half of southwestern Ontario including most of the rest of my birth mom's side of the family. Most of the people in attendance had no idea that I even existed until just weeks before the "unveiling". Yet family and friends alike welcomed me into their community like someone who had just been away for a little while. That's where I truly got my first taste of how amazing this family (and all their people) were.

Over the years I have gotten to know them all better. I know who I share mannerisms with. I see where my love of animals might be a genetic thing. I know where I get my shyness and my creative clutter tendencies from (I won't name names). They have told me the story of all the things that lead up to my adoption and are always candid and open when I've had questions. They've let me into their homes on numerous occasions, and into their hearts too.

And I've learned so much from them. My birth mom and her sisters and the "kids" all seem to know when each other needs help - whether it be a ride or something from the store or a pet taken care of. They come together frequently and genuinely enjoy being together as a larger, extended family. They plan great dinners with everyone helping out in some way (and for the record I ave never eaten anything less than amazing at any of these meals). They step up without any effort or complaint and they make sure everyone around them is okay. They are fiercely loyal and supportive of their clan. I felt this the very first time I met them all, and it has only become more clear over the last 12 or so years I've known them. In short - they are awesome. I am a better person for knowing them all.

For the record, that's not to say my adoptive family doesn't share some or most of these traits. I think we were always just more spread out geographically and maybe didn't gel in quite the same way across all the family ties. It is simply a bit of a different family dynamic.

I remember when I was considering moving to Calgary, my boss at the time warned me "Sometimes, you are going to feel really far away". The last six months, with what my Mom has gone through, as well as my Grandma and now some things that my birth family members are facing, has made me really get what he meant. I feel far. Very far. I want to be able to step up and help them out the way I know they would for me if I needed it. Because my birth family, just like my adoptive family are my people.

For now, all I can do is think positive thoughts, and do the best I can to be there for them - because that is exactly what you do for your people.

Not Being a Stepmom

On July 1, 2008, when I moved in with my boyfriend, I officially became a stepmom. A little over six years later, in September 2013, my relationship ended, I moved out and I stopped being a stepmom.

Being a stepmom was probably the hardest and yet most rewarding thing I have ever done. I've never being a "regular" parent so I can't make a comparison first hand. There are probably a lot of things that are the same but there are definitely some differences.  For example, you almost instantly have all the roles and responsibilities as a parent (feeding them, taking care of them when they are sick, the discipline etc.) but you haven't formed a relationship yet (really). You don't know how they feel about you, and you don't really know how you feel about them. There are often other parent(s) in the picture and you need to figure out where you fit in to all of that - which part is yours to play in the raising of the child. And that child may or may not resent you for a myriad of reasons from the change in household routine to jealously (although I thankfully didn't experience much of that).

But once you get through that, and you settle in, there is a lot of good stuff that can come with being a step-parent. In my case, "The Child" often would speak more freely with me than he would his dad, asking me a lot of great questions about how things in the world worked. We could have some pretty interesting conversations in the five minutes it took to get him home from daycare after school. I got to do things with him that I loved like making cookies or teaching him how to cook. I was able to share some of my family traditions with him, whether it was trick or treating Halloween, or creating some pretty awesome memories at Christmas. Every year, regardless of if he was planning to be at his mom's or his dad's for Christmas, we'd set a day to decorate the tree and house together, Christmas music playing in the background. One of my favourite Christmas memories from my childhood was the year my parents gave me a Smurf themed Christmas (because I was totally into Smurfs). All the gifts I got from Santa were Smurf related and I was thrilled. So it was pretty cool when decades later I got to do the same thing for The Child, although his was a "Nerf" themed Christmas.

Activities and traditions aside, if you are lucky (and I was), a bond forms. And they learn to love you and you learn to love them. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

When I broke up with The Child's dad, he was at his mothers for the week. He had left, on the Monday, for his usual week on/week off custody arrangement. Because the breakup was somewhat unexpected, he left not knowing that I wouldn't be there when he returned. I didn't know that either. So I didn't get a chance to talk to him or say goodbye. His dad, wanting to protect him, asked his mom to keep him a little longer until I could move out. When he eventually came back, I didn't live there anymore. And his dad didn't want me to see him.

I think - actually I know - that this was probably the hardest thing I've had to deal in my life (with perhaps the exception of my dad dying). In the first few months after the break up, it was soul crushing. If any thoughts of him or memories came bubbling to the surface I had to shove them away with everything in me in order to keep it together. I couldn't look at pictures or I'd cry. Ugly cry. I thought about writing him a letter but couldn't figure out what to say, and wasn't entirely sure (at the time) his dad would let him have it anyway.

There are a lot of articles and tips out there about the end of romantic relationships. There are a ton of blogs and resources about becoming and being a step-parent. What is surprising though is that despite all the blended and re-blended families out there these days, there isn't much about what happens with step-parents and step kids when things don't work out. And there really should be. Because you are grieving the loss of something real.

At first I didn't think I was justified in being sad. I mean, I was partially to blame for the end of the relationship with his dad and this was a consequence. And I wasn't the "real" parent so I didn't have any rights to anything. And The Child wasn't gone, he just wasn't in my life anymore. So I didn't talk about it much with anyone and I tried not to think about it. I wondered how he was doing, how school was, if he was eating his lunch or letting it go bad in his backpack (a six year, ongoing battle we had) and if he knew how much I cared about him. I wondered how soccer was going, how he was doing with homework and what he thought about all of this. Every once in a blue moon I'd see a picture of him on Facebook courtesy of his aunt or uncle and I'd be both thrilled, and then sad all over again.

About a year after the split, this past Fall, my ex wanted to borrow one of the dogs for a hike in the mountains with The Child (we had barely been on speaking terms until that point). They came by my new house to get the dog and I got to see The Child for the first time. We just exchanged hellos in the driveway for the briefest of moments and off they went. My brain went into overdrive trying to process everything. I couldn't push it away as much as I wanted to. It was so good to see him and at the same time so hard. Later that day, after the dog was returned, my ex sent some pictures from the hike of The Child and the dog. And it was like things shifted a little - maybe some healing began.

Today the three of us had brunch together - our first visit since the breakup. It made my heart so happy to see the The Child, to hear about school and the gifts he got for Christmas. To know he is doing well, making good choices and becoming a great young man. Losing our relationship (the one with The Child) will probably be one of the very few regrets I have in my life, but I feel like today I got the start of a bit of closure on grieving what our relationship was in the past. Hopefully I'll still get to know what is going on in his life as time goes on. I'd like that a lot. I'm really proud of who he is becoming and where his life is heading and I'm glad I had the opportunity to be a part of it for six years.

My 39th (or 40th?) Christmas Eve

Here we are on Christmas Eve. The dogs are bathed, the house is pretty clean (and not just by my standards either), I have a giant turkey defrosting in the fridge and I'm enjoying a glass of wine by candle light.

I have to admit that a week ago I was starting to doubt my decision to not go home for Christmas. Or my decision to be alone at Christmas. I am not sure which actually. I'd hear a Christmas song and get overly emotional. When people would talk about what they were doing for Christmas, I'd sneak away - partially because it made me sad and partially because I was beginning to get tired of the pity looks I'd get if I said I was hanging out with the dogs over Christmas.

I'm back on track though. It's my last Christmas of my thirties (someone so kindly wrote that in a Christmas card - thank you!). And this is the only one I've spent alone. There are a lot of people who have never had the big family Christmases I've been so fortunate to grow up enjoying. A lot of people haven't had Christmases with fun (and quirky) in-law types either. I've also been able to have several Christmases with a child in the house, in a parent role. I had the opportunity to help make his childhood holiday memories something special. Not everyone gets to do that either and I'm really thankful that I had that chance. Or to have a Christmas, like my special one last year, where I got to spend time with both my amazing adoptive family AND my wonderful birth family, reminding me that I was not only raised by good people, but I come from good people as well.

The last couple of years may have been a bit bumpy for me in spots. But I'm tough. And more importantly I am lucky. Because I have a life that is full of love, opportunity, health and good people. We can never plan how things are going to turn out, and sometimes we need to roll with the punches more than others, or more than we might want to. When we focus on the good in ourselves and the people around us though, we really have everything we need to keep on keeping on.

Merry Christmas and thank you to all my funny, compassionate, supportive and loving family and friends. Even if we are miles apart, I always feel like you are with me.

When the Water Heater is the Tipping Point

On Saturday my water heater broke. And it really stressed me out. Like a lot. For a few reasons.

A couple of people suggested I might be overreacting. It won't cost that much, even if you need a new one. It's not a big deal to get it replaced. Welcome to being a home owner. Water heaters don't last forever. Don't worry about it. All very good valid points. Was I overreacting? Probably.

Here's the thing. I get that the water heater isn't a big deal. In fact, out of all the things you need to replace as a home owner, its on the cheaper end of the scale. The water heater was, however, the straw that just about broke this camel's back.

The five most stressful things one can go through in life are as follows (in no particular order):

• Death of someone close to you
• Moving
• Divorce/separation
• Major illness (you or someone close to you)
• Job loss

Now I don't want to me a negative Nelly here or seem like a wimp, but in the last year and a half, I've managed to cover three of those, one of those three twice (moving). Add in an additional relationship break up, buying a home (which is a different stressor than moving), and a fairly high pressure job, and sometimes my plate feels a little more than full. Sure, there have been some good things happen in the same time period, but the last couple of years have been a bit more of a load for me to carry, and I've done 95% of it on my own.

So was I really reacting to the water heater? No.

Maybe it was the fact that this was the first house related repair I've ever had to handle on my own in my life, something that has stressed me out in the past even when I've had the help of a partner. Maybe its because sometimes, owning a house by yourself is financially scary. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't had time to buy a step ladder to change a lightbulb in my kitchen in the last month. Maybe it's the fact that I'm trying to juggle having four awesome pets, a house, a fun but demanding job and a social life.

Maybe it was the fact that a month ago my mom had pretty much the most difficult surgery a person can go through, a million miles away. And that the surgeon found cancer. Small, tiny pancreatic tumour, but still cancer. And maybe it's because last week she started 6 months of chemo. Which I am probably not supposed to talk about. Actually I'm not.

When people become critically ill, there are suddenly all kinds of rules. What you are supposed to think, talk about, not talk about, ask, feel, do, ignore, pay attention to. What you are supposed to understand, say, not say, wish, hop, suggest, believe and ask. You don't get to write any of these rules and you can't have an opinion on them. You certainly don't get a copy of the rule book but everyone and their donkey will tell you what they think the rules in the situation are. Most mean well - they are trying to help or want to control a situation they can't control. The rules are presented in an absolute way, leaving no room for discussion or protest or regard to your feelings.

I first learned about these "rules" of how everything is supposed to be in the 90's when my Dad was first sick and eventually terminally ill. I deluded myself into thinking that if you've been through something like this once, it will somehow be easier in the horrible event you need to do it again. Turns out that's NOT a rule. It isn't easier the second time around, in fact I might argue that its more difficult because you know where things COULD go. And while my mom could be fine, she might not be. And I'm not supposed to talk about that either.

I was recently watching a Sex in the City re-run. Samantha has cancer and attempts to bring up her fears with Carrie. Carrie wants to be cheerful and supportive, and keeps insisting all will be fine. That everything will turn out. After a little back and forth, Sam says "Carrie, please. Let me talk about what I'm afraid of. Please?".

That. That is what I'd like to do. Without advice or solutions or rules or a lecture.

So yes, I overreacted about a water heater. But it had nothing to do with the water heater. It had everything to do with everything else. And sometimes that's just the way life goes.

Giving Tuesday - Kidney Edition

It's "Giving Tuesday", so I cant think of a better thing to talk about than kidney donors.

A few months ago I got an email from a lady named Sarah in the US who had found my blog (the kidney one, not this one). She wanted to reach out as she was in the process of being tested to be a living kidney donor and she wanted to know if she could ask me some questions. We emailed back and forth and eventually became Facebook friends. Yesterday, she donated as part of a six person chain for a lady in Illinois who had been waiting for a kidney since 2008. I exchanged a few messages with her today - she's doing well and is very upbeat. Go Sarah!

Watching Sarah go through the process (from the sidelines, via email and Facebook) really took me back to when I donated. A lot of the initial testing I went through alone, but about a month or two before I donated, I found two people on-line who really helped me cross that finish line in the process. Jody was local and had tested in Calgary to be a non directed donor - her operation ended up being in Saskatoon. The other lady I connected with was Angela. She lived in upstate NY and had also donated anonymously that year. Both of the ladies offered great information that I certainly used before and after the surgery. They definitely made the process better for me because they shared they stuff that doctors don't think of, from personal hygiene tips to what to bring to the hospital. It gave me comfort to know I had two strangers who had been through the experience cheering me on from their corners of the world.

Living donors are a strong willed, determined bunch. We are pretty resilient and roll with things well. Every living donor I have met has a feisty independent streak in them - that's for sure. I truly believe all the donors I know could have donated without the email buddies, Facebook friends and on-line information groups. But the fact that we had access to these wonderful other donors to use as a resource, most of whom became friends as well - I think that made for a richer, more positive experience. It has made me happy that I can pay it forward when people like Sarah have connected with me. When I first signed up for this, I thought I was just giving a kidney. I didn't have a clue that it would become such a big part of my life and bring so many awesome people into my life, even years later.

This time last year, when I told my kidney story on CBC Radio's Definitely Not the Opera (DNTO), I had another lady reach out to talk about kidney donation. She had often thought about donating - when she heard my story it was a catalyst for her to contact her local transplant centre to start the process. We emailed back and forth as she had questions along the way. Yesterday, it occurred to me I hadn't heard from her in awhile so I sent her a note to check in. As it turns out, donating isn't right for her right now. She apologized for wasting my time with so many questions. But here's the thing - it wasn't a waste. She made more of an effort towards donating, or simply even just thinking of helping another person, than many people do in their lifetime. She took the time to educate herself about the process and in turn, shared that knowledge with others in her life. Donating is not for everyone for a variety of reasons and that is okay. The point is she tried and also talked about it - that makes a difference. As a nurse at her centre said, only about 1 and 5 people who go through testing donate - and that includes people who have family members in need.

She ended her email with an interesting and very honest question (which I appreciated):

"Now that you know I'm not doing it.... I am just wondering, do you honestly have no regrets? Or do you just try to stay upbeat to encourage other people? Do you ever worry about the long-term effects? I have really admired your attitude this whole time, and it shows in your blog... but I always wondered, how do you not worry at all?"

I honestly don't have regrets. I know I made the right choice for me. The bulk of the risks are behind me (surgery, complications post surgery) and now all I need to do is focus on staying healthy by eating in moderation, exercising and just taking care of myself they way we all should, regardless of kidney count. The fact is there is a lot about our health we can't control and none of us are guaranteed a long, perfectly healthy life. I do my best to control what I can, where and when I can. I do worry about a lot of things (money, my pets, friends, family, whether or not the cream in my fridge will still be good for my weekend coffee) but to be completely honest, my remaining kidney never makes the list.

I could also not ever regret a decision that has made me more confident, stronger and more aware of who I am and what is important to me. The "kidney thing" as I affectionately call it was a real turning point for me and I wouldn't change that for the world. I have also met so many wonderful people - from surgeons to nurses to donors to recipient and even the "almost donors" - who continue to inspire me everyday. I'm really lucky that I had this opportunity to go  through something like this. I appreciate not everyone does. And I hope I continue to meet new people along the way who are thinking about becoming donors - and that in some small way, I can help them along the way.

Birthdays, Housewarmings and Friends.

Forgive the fact that I missed one day of writing - too much on the go!

Last night I had a party to celebrate my birthday as well as my housewarming. While I like being social on occasion, having people over to my house has always been a bit stressful for me. So much so that I think I can still count on one hand the number of parties I have had in my adult life.

I am really glad though that I had the party. It was a great evening, much needed after this past week, and it was wonderful to catch up with old and new friends. It was neat to see people from various areas of my Calgary life interacting - everyone just clicked so well, like they had known each other a long time.

Earlier in the week I was feeling a little sorry for myself, and felt like I was kind of alone in the world. But the universe has smacked me in the head enough over the past few days that I realize how foolish I was for thinking I didn't have support. I have so many great people in my life who care about me more than I ever imagined. I am certainly not alone.

Yesterday would have been Dad's 67th birthday. There were so many times when I was a kid and adult that people (including my mom and brother lol) mixed up our birthdays. So it was kind of fitting to celebrate my birthday on his. All this stuff with my Mom has made me think about him a little more lately, even though he's been gone so long. I remember my parents being 39 and the whole gang they and all their friends turning 40 (there was a bit of a party circuit for a couple of years). My Dad didn't know when he was my age that he had less than 10 years left. I sometimes wonder what would have been on his "list" if he made one. Would he have made a list if he did know? I didn't get to know him enough as an adult to answer that but I can try to imagine the sorts of things he might have wanted to see or do.

Tomorrow I will return to the list making and get back on track.

Support

I am a little overwhelmed by the response I got to yesterday's post about my Mom. From people who offered ideas on how to support her from afar, to others who shared stories about their own experiences with cancer, prayers and everything in between - it was all pretty amazing.

At my cousin's wedding last weekend, there was much discussion about what was going on with my Mom. It was pretty emotional, although it was beautiful to see how loved she is by my cousins, aunts, uncles. It helped to know that people who live so much closer to my move would go and visit her, check in on her once she is out of the hospital, and do what they can to help. I left the wedding feeling a little bit better about being so far away.

One of my relatives asked me a question no one else did though, that really got me thinking.

"Do YOU have support. In Calgary. People that can help you?'.

I wasn't sure. I hadn't thought about that. I live alone (minus my zoo of cats and dogs). My family is far away. It's easy to think and feel sometimes that you don't have that safety net of people around you. Sure, I have friends, but I wasn't sure if I had people that needed to be burdened with this (or frankly any other problems I might have a long the way). I realized last night and today as I heard from so many lovely people, that not only do I have some pretty awesome people here in Calgary to help me, but I have a whole lot of people looking out for me all over the place.

On another note, my Mom is feeling a lot better today. Many of the symptoms that had been given her such discomfort over the last two months seem to have faded in the last 48 hours. I'm hoping she has a peaceful weekend before her surgery. And I'm feeling a lot better about things, knowing that not only that she has so many people in her corner, but I do too.

Onwards!