Category Archives: My Stories

Happy Days

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On Wednesday morning, I packed my suitcase, grabbed Uncle Fred and my favorite blanket and headed to the hospital thinking I would be there for five days. Two hours later, Dr. D came in the room and said we’d have to wait a week until I could start my fourth round of chemo. I was certainly not looking forward to being in the hospital for five days but I was ready for it. I had mentally prepared myself and there’s always a sense of “excitement” to start the next phase because it just means I’m one step closer to the end goal. So in a weird way, I was disappointed that I didn’t get admitted last week— not to mention, my bags were packed and I knew I’d have to unpack just to repack— the worst. 

But what originally felt like a setback quickly turned into something I felt grateful for. Not only has the weather been absolutely gorgeous but physically I’ve felt better than I have for quite some time and therefore was really able to enjoy just being home and having some time to myself. I had plenty of energy which allowed me to work on a mothers day gift for my mom all day Thursday (before & after pic below… loved the way it turned out)! Friday night Mike and I went out and got pizza from our favorite place and caught up on some TV. It was a perfectly lazy night.
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Saturday, Mike and I had fun day, plain and simple. The day felt normal and that’s exactly what we needed. My Grammy bought me a membership to the Museum of Fine Arts: Boston for my birthday and we hadn’t been able to use it. Feeling good, I got all dressed up and we headed downtown. We so enjoyed the museum, so many beautiful and interesting pieces of work. I especially loved an exhibit called “Think Pink” which examined the history of the color pink particularly in fashion. We saw Lucien Lelong sketches, Oscar De La Renta dresses and Louboutin shoes… I was in heaven.
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Then we headed to Boylston, walked around for a bit to see all the beauty that’s Boston in Springtime and enjoyed an early dinner outside together. Came back to our home and watched the Bruin’s demolish the Canadiens on our comfy couch. Glorious day.
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Today was special as well. I felt really lucky to be able to spend Mothers Day, not in the hospital as we had planned on, but at home in Manchester with my family. My Nanny was there. My sister was there. And of course my mom. If we had only had my Grammy there, I would’ve been with the four most important women in my life. I’ve been so blessed to have so many strong women surround me and show me what it means to be a wonderful mother. And since it is mothers day, I’ll tell you a little about my mom. She’s the best. She’s the happiest, most loving, funny, beautiful woman I know and above all else, she is my best friend. I’m such an unbelievably lucky lady to call her my mumma.
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Sunday nights can get me a little bummed but tonight I feel happy and lucky that I’m in my own bed, watching the Revenge season finale knowing I was able to have such a fabulous weekend with a lot of people I love. If I would’ve been admitted on Wednesday, I wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy these past few days like I have. Everything really does happen for a reason.
XOXO,
Jessy

Cinco de No Drinko

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This blog post I’m going to come off as a real lush. I’m pissed about not being able to drink; plain and simple. So if you think that’s wrong, click the X button now.
 
Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo and I wanted a Caronarita. Bad. Unfortunately for me, it will be 2016 until the next time I’ll get to suck down one of these festive yet aggressive drinks. This holiday comes on the heels of a weekend that I got really bothered about not being able to have an alcoholic beverage. Mike and I went to a wedding in NH. I was so excited for it…. so excited to be out of the house (and not at the hospital). So excited to use the jacuzzi so that I could put some use to the bathing suits originally purchased for our Domincan trip. It was so fun to get dressed up and see a bunch of friends. The ceremony was beautiful, bride looked so angelic and the groom was grinning from ear to ear- it was a magical moment to watch. Then the cocktail hour started and the drinks began to flow. Okay, I thought, no big deal. Then we sat down for dinner and there’ a glass of champagne in front of each plate. Ugh, maybe I can have just one sip? I’m a few days off chemo and have a few days before the next round. One sip it is. Woopsies, that made it way harder. I wanted the whole glass. But one sip is all I knew I could “sneak.” And then the drinks continued to come flowing all around me. Everyone was indulging, as they should be at a wedding, and I slowly became saddened by the situation. I enjoyed dancing with my boyfriend who goes borderline insane but phenomenally impressive on wedding dance floors. (It’s almost like I’m dating Vince Vaughn from Wedding Crashers.) I was honestly having fun and enjoying this special night but as everyone else around was getting tipsy, it ate away at me that I “couldn’t,” that I’m not “allowed.” I decided not to go to the after party and just head back to our hotel room after the wedding ended. I laid in the bed wanting to go downstairs to the bar but couldn’t push myself to do it. So instead, I laid in bed and thought a lot about why the absence of alcohol in my life is bothering me so much. Coming up with an answer didn’t make me necessarily feel any better but I started realizing that I think it relates to the importance of being part of the group. I’m bothered about not being able to drink because it makes me feel isolated, it’s a reminder that I’m not a normal 25 year old right now, it’s a reminder that I’m sick, it’s a reminder that I can’t just do whatever I damn well please. And you know what? I like to do what I want to do, that’s for absolute sure. 
 
Honestly, I have felt embarrassed or ashamed about really communicating how sad or left out I feel about not being able to have a drink. It’s easy for me to say “oh well, shouldn’t be my biggest priority right now” or “things could be worse.” And those both are true, but the reality is it’s harder than that. The reality of actually hanging out when everyone else is drinking is not the easiest, or the funnest and it’s going to be like this for two years. That’s a long time to feel like the odd man out. At this point in my life, having some drinks with friends is a huge part of social life. Whether it’s Harpoon Fest, having Sunday Funday bloodies, beers at the Sox game, tailgating before a summer concert, or having a Caronarita for Cinco de Mayo, lots and lots of the events that go on outside of work consist of drinking. And I’m not looking forward to not taking part in these things for the foreseeable future. 
 
Tomorrow morning I head to Dana Farber and will be admitted at Brigham & Womens later in the day for my next round of chemo and will stay for five days. Definitely not looking forward to being in the hospital for five nights but hey, I’m guaranteed that there’ll be no temptations. I mean, unless my nurses decide to celebrate National Nurses Week with some cocktails. 
 
Okay… end rant. 
 
Olé!
Jessy
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Crazy for the Carter Family

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I haven’t written in for what feels like forever. Mostly because I really have had no updates…nothing that I felt was worthy enough to write about. Each day has been generally the same. I’m home, I’m tired, I’m sometimes nauseous and I’m still dealing with a headache that has been here for literally over a month. On a “good” day, I have a visitor or have the energy to make dinner, maybe do some laundry, go for a walk or yoga. Nothing exactly over-the-top exciting. Well, except for my new-found talent of knitting– teaching myself this craft has actually been super exciting! So it sounds negative but I’ve felt like, what do I really have to say? And honestly today didn’t start much different than the rest but today took a turn for the fabulous and I now have something to say…something really really exciting to announce and it has absolutely nothing to do with cancer. TODAY MIKE AND I SCORED TICKETS TO THE “ON THE RUN” JAYZ AND BEYONCE SUMMER TOUR!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO WOOOOOOOOO!

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It sounds so silly but this is the most excited I have been over something in a few months. I love Beyonce. I love JayZ. I love Blue Ivy. Plain and simple, I love the Carters. They are the best and I’ve been chirping about how the two of them need to go on tour together for quite some time and FINALLY my dream has come a reality. And this is just what I needed– I needed something to put on my calendar besides my next hospital stay. It’s something fun, it’s something exciting and something I really am going to get to look forward to!

So a big thank you to my wonderful boyfriend for coming through and getting me the best form of medicine I could ever ask for! I might not be Drunk in Love lately but I’m certainly still Crazy in Love (see how I did that!? hehe)  

All hail the Queen Bey,

Jessy   

p.s. I need to learn this move before June 30th. 

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Easter Sunday Thanks

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On this beautiful Easter Sunday I’m thankful for a lot but here are three things that come to mind today:
1. I’m thankful that I was not in the hospital this weekend and was able to enjoy going to a friends wedding as well as enjoy Easter with Mikes family and adorable nieces.

2. I’m thankful for Nick at Nite playing Friends every night lately. I’ve had a hard time falling asleep and “calming down” at night so reruns of my favorite show have been seriously helpful and enjoyable! There’s just something about Joey, Phoebe, Ross, Rachel, Monica and Chandler that really make bedtime that much better.

3. I’m thankful for strawberry Strudels. Yes, the flakey delicious breakfast pastries that we all dined on as 7 year olds. Well, I’ve brought them back into my life as a dessert and it couldn’t be a more delicious treat. Highly recommend. 👌

Hope you all had a wonderful Easter and we’re able to enjoy it with those you love most.

XOXO,
Jessy

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Boston Strong Forever: My Reflection 1 Year Later

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One year ago today I woke up like a kid on Christmas morning. It was my first ever Marathon Monday. I had heard so much about this day and all it’s wicked glory. As a kid who grew up in New Hampshire and went to school in Florida, I had never gotten to experience the excitement and pride that this day brings. My Beacon St. apartment was directly in front of the mile 23 marker— my first floor living room window looked right out onto the street as the runners pushed through the final few miles. Our apartment was filled with mimosas, buffalo chicken dip (and an endless array of unhealthy snacks), jello shots and of course, an ice cold keg of cheap beer. It was a party and I was THRILLED to be a part of it. April 15, 2013 was a beautiful day for a race. Blue skies, a slight wind, and sunshine. A perfect day for a celebration. With a red solo cup in hand, I stood with my girlfriends on the sidewalk cheering on all the participants. I had never been to a marathon before and I truly was blown away with the strength of these participants. By the time I was seeing them, they had run 23 miles— 23 miles!!!— it’s a feat I really can’t even fathom. One of my favorite moments of the day came when a group of military men and women marched by. As they passed with an American flag being held high and proud, the crowd starting chanting, “USA! USA! USA!” I felt such a sense of pride in that moment…not only proud to be an American but to be a Bostonian. During that moment, I remember looking around at all the bystanders and all the runners and really trying to take in what is so special about this day. It’s Patriots Day. It’s Boston’s day. And for the first time, that meant it was my day too. It’s all of our day.

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I had just finished babbling on the phone to my mom about what a fun and fabulous day I was having. Probably a bit too much fun for a Monday afternoon but then again, it was my first Marathon Monday so what else do you expect?! Then this day of excitement, pride and joy became a day of tragedy. I was outside at the time and people from inside the apartment yelled for us to come in and see what had just unfolded three miles from where I was standing. An act of pure evil had just happened. Quickly a house full of people drinking and laughing became a house full of people surrounding a television, silent and crying. After a few minutes, we began bringing runners inside to give them water. Our apartment was suddenly full of a lot of people I didn’t know but it didn’t matter. We all had the same thoughts, feelings and emotions. A bunch of strangers became one. A city became one. And one act of evil had created hundreds of acts of greatness.
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The days following the Boston Marathon were strange. The suspects had not been caught and everyone in the city was on edge. Walking to my car the next morning, there were armed military men at the T stop dressed in bullet proof vests and carrying enormous rifles. I hated it. That’s not what I should see on my way to work, I thought. That’s not what anyone should see on their way to work. It felt un-American. On Friday April 19th, after being in a lockdown all day, completely glued to the television and truthfully frightened, the ban was finally lifted in the early evening. Mike’s brother and sister-in-law had just had a new baby girl two days prior and we had planned to meet her that night. So we jumped in the car and sped off to Newton Wellsley Hospital. After being greeted by an army tank and having our car searched, we parked and ran upstairs. The moment we were walking in the hospital door, “suspect #2” had finally been located and was being handcuffed and taken away. I felt so much joy from this news, so much relief for our city and for all those who had been directly affected by their cowardly acts. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I hoped he and his god awful brother rot in hell. I felt such anger, such hateful thoughts towards these so-called human beings. And then, just when I was feeling such nasty and almost barbaric emotions, we opened the hospital room door and were greeted with a miracle; the best humanity has to offer…a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Cheeks rosy, skin soft and eyes filled with innocence. She was perfect. She didn’t know the horror that had ensued on Monday or the anxiety ridden week that had just finished. Because she was just a baby— a baby born into the most spectacular city, with her whole life ahead of her. I’m so grateful for seeing her that night because that angelic little baby unknowingly took away all the negative thoughts in my head and replaced them with hopeful and happy thoughts. Baby Tori won — baby Tori won against two terrible terrible monsters.
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The morning of April 20th, I think the entire city breathed a sigh of relief that April 19th was a day of the past; I sure did. I felt relief but also felt a sense of urgency to go enjoy the magnificent city that our law enforcement had just risked their lives to protect. So I strolled on down to Newbury and walked my favorite street in America. Then I headed over to the Boston Public Gardens filled with flowers that were blooming magnificently and signifying the start of Spring. And then, with a heavy heart, walked to the edge of Boylston, to where a memorial had popped up honoring those lost and injured in the marathon, to pay my respects and say a little prayer. It was a special day in an even more special city.
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The week of April 15, 2013 taught me a lot. It taught me that life can take unexpected turns so you should always enjoy the present because who knows when it can change. It taught me what a fabulous day Marathon Monday truly is— and to never, EVER not take it off from work (it’s so worth the vacation day). It taught me how much we need our law enforcement and military. It taught me that good always prevails over evil. And it taught me that Boston is truly the greatest city in the world.
#BostonStrong- yesterday, today and always.
XOXO,
Jessy

What a Wonderful World

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Last night Mike and I slowed danced in the living room. It’s something we’ve always liked to do but I look forward to it even more lately as it’s a special few moments just between the two of us. Right as one 1950’s song ended and we were about to clean up from supper, Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” came on. We continued to dance. 
 
As we continued on in our little romantic comedy and I listened to the lyrics, I thought about just how meaningful this song really is to me. It’s a song that when I was about 5, my sister and I sung to our Nanny and Bumpa at their 40th wedding anniversary and whenever I hear it brings me back to my childhood and fills my heart with so much warmth and happiness. It played on a day that for the first time in over two weeks I felt good. I felt like myself. I felt silly and happy and energetic. As it played and Loius sung about red roses blooming, I couldn’t believe that on the same day I had seen the first set of tulips pop their beautiful blossoms through the dirt. Spring officially sprung for me yesterday. 
 
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Spring brings such a magical feeling here in New England. It’s the end of short, cold days. The end of a dreary, dull winter. And the beginning of long, warm days. The beginning of a season full of sunshine and color. Spring truly does create a sense of hope. Hope that the days ahead will be better and brighter than those of the past. This year, that sense of hope is so empowering and invigorating for me. I needed spring (I think we all did). I needed to see those tulips pop through. It signified the start of something new. Something that is beautiful and brilliant. Susan Bissonette said, “An optimist is the human personification of spring.” And so this year (and hopefully every year going forward), I will strive to be just like spring. 
 
Today I get to write this sitting on my back porch, breathing in crisp beautiful fresh air. It’s a bit nippy and while I would typically complain, this year I don’t mind being a little chilly. I don’t mind because as I feel the wind whip on my face, I feel so alive and it reminds me of the days I sat in that hospital room looking out the window wishing I could feel this wind and hear those birds chirp. And because of that, I think to myself…what a wonderful world it truly is.  
 
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XOXO, 
Jessy 

All You Need Is Love…and Friendship

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I haven’t written a blog post in a week. I’ve started them, but haven’t been able to finish. I’ve wanted to write one but haven’t been able to find the right words for how I’ve been feeling. Because quite honestly, I’ve been feeling just about everything but inspirational. I still don’t know if I have the “right” words to say but I do know that it’s healthy for me to get out how I’m feeling and that’s what I shall do. Because my hope is that one day, I’ll read this back and it’ll be just a reminder of what I went through and how far I’ve come. And I gotta be honest, I can’t wait for that day. So March 26, 2016 (two years from remission)— get at me.
Last week, I received an email from Dr. Mandi (one of my two absolutely fabulous doctors). I had asked for some sort of outline of the next two years so I could get a better understanding of what was really ahead of me. So I got it, just like I had requested, and it scared the absolute hell out of me. Two years of treatment spelled out in front of me. Two years of a lot of procedures, appointments and chemotherapy. Two years of my life not being my normal life, not being the one I want to live. And being not even two months “in,” it pushed me over a cliff of anxiety, sadness and anger. This past week was hard… both physically and mentally. My body is achey. My head is still pounding from a spinal tap I got 10 days ago. I’m tired, really tired. But worse than the physical annoyances, I’ve been mentally struggling to stay above water. I felt so many emotions and none of them were positive. I felt sad, lonely, overwhelmed, confused, and honestly, pretty pissed off. Pissed off that so many important things in my life have been pushed back or paused. Pissed off that my whole life I’ve always tried to make healthy choices for myself and this still happened. Pissed off that things like taking a shower is a production. I found myself being jealous of complete strangers for reasons like they have long hair or are jogging or walking a dog. I was finding myself having to talk myself out of bed in the morning. And so when Dr. Mandi’s email came and I read, line by line, how intense the next two years will be, it scared me, because I felt like I can’t handle two years of weeks like this.
All in all, I was having a big pttty party for myself and I knew it. But I couldn’t snap myself out of it.
But then Thursday night came and for the first time in days, I went to bed with a big smile on my face. Not because I felt physically any different than the rest of the week, and not because I magically was feeling more positive. Thursday was different because it was the start of a weekend with three of my best friends… one who lives in Boston, one who lives in Chicago and one who lives in North Carolina. And the excitement of spending an entire weekend with my girlfriends was just the medicine I needed. Our time together was different than a typical girls weekend, consisting mostly of ‘lounging’ and relaxing but simply being together took my mind off of everything else and made me happy. So the power of friendship prevailed over anxiety, anger and sadness. Prevailed just when I needed it to. Just when I couldn’t pick myself up on my own. Friends and laughter and love picked me up and gave me something to look forward to and be thankful for and to simply enjoy. Because snuggling on the couch, watching trashy tv, eating candy and making each other giggle is one of the most enjoyable pastimes a girl could ever ask for.
Now my girlfriends have all gone home and it’ll be just me again this week but I feel different than I did on Thursday morning. I feel different because I’ve been reminded that these next two years won’t all be like last week. Some will be, yes. But there will also be a lot of days that are happy and fun and enjoyable. And those are the days that I’m going to think about and look forward to when I begin to put on my pitty party hat again.
So CHEERS to fabulous girlfriends!
XOXO,
Jessy
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p.s. this Sunday I’m thankful for 1. my girlfriends (duhhh), 2. Uncle Fred (my adorable stuffed bear), and 3. the weather finally starting to warm up (but lets face it, I could use another 20 degrees warmer).

Hard Day Down, One Step Closer

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Disclaimer: This is not a sunny post. I need to get out how I’m feeling right now and right now, I’m a little cloudy… cloudy with no chance of North End meatballs.

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Yesterday I received extremely positive news— I’m officially in remission! REMISSION!!! Meaning that when they pulled my bone marrow on Wednesday, it came back clear of any cancer cells. Hallelujah! However, factually, they know that if we do not continue to fight the cancer cells they will absolutely come back. So continue to fight we will.
But I found myself unable to truly feel the excitement that should have accompanied this amazing news. News that my body is kicking some serious ass. News that I am going to live. L-I-V-E. This is huge news, obviously, but I felt so little relief. I had become overwhelmed with emotional and physical pain yesterday. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were, to say it simply…a lot. I had prepared myself for Wednesday but not Thursday and Friday. I hadn’t understood that I would be back in the hospital so quickly and was feeling so frustrated about it. I also hadn’t been able to prep myself for how I would physically feel… which was terrible. My whole body ached. Every joint hurt when I moved, or laughed. My head felt like a tractor trailer was sitting on top of it— and the only thing that brought any relief was to sit in the dark (and lets face it, I’m all about that light!) And then the nausea started and I couldn’t keep anything down. And throwing up sucks. No better way to put it.

So after blood being drawn, an ultra sound of my stomach and back, a check-in with my doctor and six hours of being in one out-patient room to get a few rounds of chemo, I finally was being transported by wheel chair to the overnight room I’ll be in for the next few days. With a splitting headache and my mom holding my hand, I began to get extremely nauseous and became “that person” getting wheeled by a stranger while puking their brains out into a plastic bucket. Crying. It was one of those moments. A moment I don’t think I’ll ever forget because I’m not sure I’ve ever felt lower or more beaten in my life. Not because of the pain but because of the way it made me feel about myself. It was embarrassing and down right demoralizing. I wanted nothing more than to grab Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak and hide. Better yet, I wanted to wake up from what I feel like is a horrible nightmare. But I can’t. Because it’s not a nightmare, it’s my life right now. And as much as that sucks, it’s life. It’s my life and it’s still a good one. In fact, it’s a great one. And I’m lucky to be here. Even in low moments like that one.

Around midnight I was able to get on medication for what was causing all my symptoms and it’s helped a lot. At 3am I got hooked up to a type of chemo that runs into my veins for 24 hours straight… so I’ll be here at the Brigham for a while but feeling much better today am going to try to do some things I enjoy. Like blog. and paint. and sleep— hopefully!

So all-in-all, not my favorite few day but those days are now in the past and that means I’m one step closer to winning this game. I thought I’d leave you with a fab quote that my dad said yesterday as he sat by my side all day, 9am to 10pm. As the true sports announcer he is, he compared my remission news into a perfect Boston sports analogy… “When the C’s were murdering the Lakers in Game 6 of the 2008 NBA Finals, they didn’t stop playing hard at the half when they were ahead by over 20. They kept fighting and kept playing their asses off until the buzzer hit 00:00 because they knew that’s what they had to do to win the game.” And win they did… by a NBA Finals’ record of 39 points. And that’s what I’m going to do too— keep on kicking ass and keep on playing as hard as I can. Because I’m a competitor and I’m gonna win this game.

Thanks for listening. I’m jumping back on my positive party in just a few minutes.

XOXO,
Jessy

The Next Chapter

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Monday afternoon I walked outside for the first time in 25 days and although too cold for my liking, it was the freshest, most crisp air I’ve ever breathed into my little lungs. Getting to sit next to Mike as we drove home through our fabulous city made me the happiest, proudest Bostonian to have ever lived. Stepping into our home was overwhelming but beautiful at the same time. I felt a sense of relief and gratitude that I was able to be in my own home again, as I know not everyone dealt this hand is always as fortunate. Then together Mike and I jumped into the most gloriously comfortable bed I’ve ever laid in and spent a few minutes simply enjoying being together in our home and in our bed. It was a moment I’ll never forget. 
 
And then there was Pizzeria Regina’s. Never have I shoveled food such like a wild animal in my life but I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Buffalo chicken pizza. Pineapple & prosciutto pizza. Mediterranean Greek Salad. 
Nom. Nom. Nom. 
 
With all the excitement of being home, there also came a very daunting feeling. Because as I woke up in my own bed yesterday morning and everything in my home was physically the same, nothing was the same. The last time I woke up in this bed I went to work like every other day not knowing what life was about to hand me. Since that day, my life has flipped upside down. And while I do truly believe everything happens for a reason and this is just a difficult chapter in what is an amazing life…it’s going to be hard. Really, really hard. 
 
But lucky for me, as with every other day so far in my small journey, my family (that includes you Mr. Stevens) was here to pull me up and help me see all that I am lucky to have. And that it’s not just my life that’s changed but all those that I love lives that changed. And that we’re in this hard, long road together. 
 
Today I had my first visit as an outpatient and it went really smoothly– my doctors and nurses, per usual, were amazing and made me feel comfortable and calm. As scary and new as this experience is to me, they constantly remind me that they do this every single day and are the absolute best at what they do– the reassuring feeling this creates is invaluable. While I was in the hospital, I’m not going to lie, I was going absolutely insane over the terrible food… I watched literally hours and hours of the Food Network (I know, I know I’m as masochist), so after a long but successful morning, Mike and I found a spot that was featured on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives hosted by my idol Guy Fieri and treated ourselves to some of the most delicious sandwiches I’ve ever eaten. Wooooo chil’ they were good! 
 
So now I don’t have to go back to the hospital until next Wednesday where I will get a bunch of treatments done including my second bone marrow pull. REALLY not looking forward to that but it will tell us something very important– if my leukemia cells have disappeared! And that, that’s some news I want to find out! Until then, I will keep on keepin’ on and enjoying all the little things in life… like silky sheets, snap chatting with The Voice (yup, did that last night), going for walks, painting my nails, looking at old pictures and of course, eating dynamite food. 
 
Happy Hump Day everyone– hope it’s a fabulous week so far! 
 
Xoxo,
Jessy 
 
P.S. I had cold pineapple and prosciutto pizza for breakfast yesterday morning and I didn’t feel one iota of guilt. Probably doing it again tomorrow. 
Sue me. 

A Different St. Paddys Day Weekend

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St. Patricks Day weekend is one of the many many reasons why I love living in the beautiful city of Boston. This weekend here is like no other– so full of excitement, energy and plain fun!Honestly, I was very disappointed about having to miss all the shenanigans that go along with this wild weekend but it is what it is. Luckily for this little Irish girl, I was able to have a nice day with lots of visitors! After three weeks of not being able to snuggle my favorite princess, my doctors said that I could have Eleni come in to see me. It’s amazing what a child can do for a soul…it literally made my heart feel better to give her hugs and kisses. Then some fabulous girlfriends came to chat, shower me with St. Paddys Day bling and give me some much needed girl time gossip! My parents and brother came later in the afternoon and unfortunately I wasn’t feeling well by the end of the day, but it was nice to have them here to be there with me during a not-so-great time.

Busy day for this lady but an even bigger day tomorrow. If my neutrophil count goes up to 500 (basically a number they give to my immune system), I could be going home. I’m trying not to get my hopes up but that’s basically impossible. I want to breathe fresh air, see the sun, lay in my bed, eat a home cooked meal. I want that so bad. So tonight, I’m saying an extra Irish blessing in my prayers and hoping I get my wish to go home tomorrow.

Hope everyone had a special weekend. Enjoy the week ahead!

XOXO,
Jessy

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