Happy 1st Birthday Oscar!

Where has the year gone?

Exactly one year ago today I had ostomy surgery. "Life changing" doesn't begin to describe the last 364 days.

As a newly formed ostomate I experienced many firsts. Not the first time I had done a particular thing but the first time sans rectum and most of colon. For example, I opened an automotive repair shop with the hubby, I flew to Toronto/London/Halifax and back, competed in the Napa Rally 5000 and drove the entire way, used a spray tan booth, got addicted to Brazilian waxes, stood in lines, fixed rust on my car, raked the leaves in the yard, have started baking cookies (Christmas cookie plates for everyone!), have taken the Pug's and Baron for walks, went to a concert, have started to eat meat again, have had to buy fat fat clothes, became friends with my treadmill, have saved millions on toilet paper, have more panties then I know what to do with and many others.

Oscar has not only given me my life back but has also given me a life. The above mentioned things don't seem like a big deal but if you constantly had to poop (It would be like the day after you ate McDonalds, constant McPoo's) the little things that you take for granted become major obstacles.

This morning the hubby said "Happy Birthday Oscar, I love you" and when I asked him why, he said "Because he makes you better and you make everything better." I have the best husband, but I also have the best life because of Oscar.

Thank you Oscar and happy birthday. We will celebrate tonight and for the rest of or lives.

Traffic circles suck.

I have an unhealthy fear of roundabouts.

Born and raised in Windsor, Ontario, I was never subjected to these circles of chaos. My first encounter was while driving in Germany, I just drove REALLY fast and hoped I was doing the right thing. My hands still get sweaty thinking of that first foray. I've been known to change entire routes if I'm made aware that a traffic circle is upon us.

Today I had my first non Crohn's/ostomy Dr.'s appointment and had to drive through no less then 2 traffic circles. I was nervous and my palms got damp 5 blocks before the road showed itself. I thought it was ridiculous to be nervous over a stupid road when I have been through so much. Unhealthy fears are rarely sane.

So, on the way to the appointment I gathered strength, channelling all my fears BO and made it through the roundabout. I was mumbling profanities and I'm pretty sure the people who saw the Jetta that was driven by a crazy woman talking to herself thought they were witnessing a kamikaze Volkswagen, but we managed to make it around the circle.

Thank you Oscar, because of you I am able to venture into roundabouts.

Back to the 'ole chalk board

I recently started taking a writing class on Tuesday nights and am enjoying it immensely. I've been working on a book, more working off then on, but a book it is, for the last 6 months and thought what better way to gain some insight into the writing world then to take a class? I was nervous at first only because I remembered what taking a class was like last year BO.
Last fall I signed up for a "woman in woodworking" course at NAIT, the local college. It was 6 Saturdays from 9:00 until 3:00 and it taught women how to use wood working stuff. There are technical names for all the tools but so all of you don't have to grin and nod like I did, I'm just going to say "Lot's of big power tools." I enjoyed the class, except for the lack of washroom's. I would be at one of the machines, plank of wood in hand and the "urge" would hit. I'd hand the piece of tree off to the nearest lady and make a run for it. Apparently it's mostly men that occupy the trade section of the college and there is only 1 ladies room, which is on the other side of the wing. Off I'd go, thinking that if I couldn't make it, maybe I would have some sawdust caught in the rolls of my jeans to help with clean up.
Thankfully I always made it but I wasn't able to make it to the last day of class. Crohn's swept in, reared it's ugly head and I was stuck at home, on the toilet. You can imagine my disappointment at not being able to finish my clock!
2 week's after the course had ended, I had the colostomy surgery. I also had a special visitor. One of the ladies from the class came to see me, finished clock project in hand. All the student's had known about my issues and decided to complete the clock for me. The clock is even more special, having been completed by a group of wonderful ladies.
I was full of trepidation when I signed up for the writing class and sure enough, the instant I traipsed into the classroom the "urge" struck. As I took my seat I marvelled at the freeing feeling of Oscar. I knew I would be perfectly fine regardless of where the ladies room was located.
Thank you Oscar, because of you I can take as many classes as my social calendar will permit!

High heels aren't made for boot camp!

I asked the hubby to grab a pair of black high heeled boots out of my closet and he came back with the wrong pair. In a huff I stormed into my closet, rummaged around for a few minutes and returned victoriously with the pair I wanted. He asked "you have no less then 5 pairs of black high heeled boots, how was I to know which ones you wanted?" In retrospect, I have a thigh high pair of Louboutin's, a wedge pair, a mid calf pair, a pirate fold over pair, a kitten heel pair and my new favourites, an equestrian pair. Fair enough, all those black boots get confusing. This day however I wanted to strut my stuff in the fold down pirate boots. They are a lovely pair from Stuart Weitzman that I purchased a few years ago and are just now coming into fashion.
I sat down on the couch, and pulled the first boot on. Odd, my leg is hanging OVER the boot. By this I mean all the weight that has been gained since Oscar's inception last November, is now starting to affect my footwear.
Unacceptable.
I'm vain, I know because 4 years ago I quit smoking not because of cancer or any other horrid thing you can get but because smoking gives you wrinkles. Truth. I quit because I didn't want wrinkles. VAIN.
This is how I felt about the "boot debacle of 2010" I was going to get in shape and continue wearing my favourite footwear.
I joined a boot camp. It's a fitness boot camp that promises improved fitness and a 2 dress size loss in a month. I lasted a day. I was all cute and perky in my new Nike's, pony tail swinging while we ran around the room but about 15 minutes in I could no longer feel my arms, 20 minutes in and the feeling returned with a vengeance. 25 minutes in and I was swaying, 30 minutes in and I was out. I couldn't finish the hour. I could barely see straight let alone finish climbing the mountain (mountain climber position), and really I don't care whats on top of the stupid mountain. All I wanted was a couch, some water and maybe a cigarette!
I drove through Edmonton as quickly as humanly possible and when I realized I wouldn't make it home, I detoured to our shop. Thankfully no one was on the washroom and I ran in and promptly threw up my chocolate Lucky Charms. Not so lucky.
I am lucky however that Oscar permitted me to take part in a exercise class. Thank you Oscar, you and I will one day soon walk proudly in a cute pair of Weitzman's but until then you will settle for the pair of Louboutin's because those still fit.