MOG #22: B'ingPostive

I am very excited to share this one with you. This is Maddie, a remarkable young lady whose striking story speaks for itself. I'll add in my thoughts at the end.

It's hard to believe that one year ago today I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia. It is still so surreal to think that not only have I been face-to-face with such a scary cancer, but my friends and family were always there to support me. I remember when we got the phone call saying the words a parent ever wants to hear, 'your daughter has cancer'. 

 I was about to go to costco with my dad after a long weekend of an anticipated final appointment with a hematologist. Other than the scary bone marrow biopsy, it was a normal day. I will never forget the look on my parents' face when they walked into the room and had to tell me the dreaded diagnosis. I just started screaming 'why' and crying hysterically crying. With the help of my family I packed my things and headed to the Juravinski Hospital where I began my long, scary, very real journey. I was never alone. 

Through chemotherapy, the ICU, nasty bone marrow biopsies, radiation, a stem cell transplant and many other procedures, my friends and family were always by my side. My outlook on life has changed drastically. I no longer have the time to sweat the small stuff nor do I have the time for people that do. I can say with full confidence that I never thought in a million years that I would ever have to go through this hell of a journey. I am so blessed for each and every person who has helped me along the way. It made me stronger knowing that people were praying for my survival. 

People ask me all the time what 'BPositive' means and why I say it all the time. On the first day in the hospital I needed blood transfusions before I started any treatments. I never knew what my blood type was and she the nurse brought my transfusions into my room and said 'BPositive' I took it as a sign that everything was going to be okay. It put me at ease and has been my mantra ever since. So when times are hard, just remember that your attitude and positivity are 80% of the battle. There is no use in worrying about the hints you can't change. Just find the good in the bad and dance in the rain! My journey will never be over but I'm glad I'm sleeping in my own bed tonight. I kicked cancers ass and I am proud of it! BPositive!!!

***
I made this title B'ingPositive to relfect Maddie's current state; she is a human Being; she is Being positive, she is Being granted more years on this earth to do her thing. 'Be' works on its own, espeically for the way she framed it- you really can't argue with that positive logic. I just see Being as a bigger verb, a more powerful word, and a sentiment that greater reflects what this girl is doing, not did or will do. She is here, in all forms and tenses, she is here. She is Being the best that she can be. She is living beautifully and she is finding gratitude in just Being. 

MOG #21: Through and through

So for a while I had a theory that I didn't want to accept MOG's from strangers. This was because I just have too many people I want to write first before I let strangers or friends of friends post. I really like having something to say about each contributor, writing those spiels and coming up with titles gives me a sense of ownership that I think is necessary when managing a collaborative blog. That's why some posts take longer to come up than others- I want to hand pick the words that frame the introductions, like an author's biography at the back of a novel, I just want readers to see you all in the remarkable way I see you. So today when Katie told me her friend Sean had written a post I was hesitant to even accept it- would his post be taking the place of one of my friends or family? I discussed it a bit with my roommates; they understood the level of personal connotation that comes with managing this blog, but as much as I could convince them, I couldn't convince myself. If someone takes the time to read our entries and then stops what they're doing to write their own, how could I be so selfish as to even think of not publishing it? So the rule is, that I won't be opening up an e-mail account soon; it's just too early to get MOGs from souls I may never met, but it's not too early to befriend that friend of a friend on Facebook and get acquainted before posting their words here. So that's what I did, and turns out Sean and I have mutual friends, interests and experiences. Just the beginning of our friendship and just the first page of his story that we all get to read. I had to remind myself that this blog isn't for me- it's for you. It's for us. This post, is for Sean. 

            Winter can be a stressful time for people.  I’ve seen it all around.  And it recently hit home for me.  Ending for Winter break 2013 and transitioning into the New Year was probably the lowest of the low I’ve ever felt.  I happened to make an on a whim decision I told myself never to make during a time where other outside forces like school and finals were about to come my way.  I began to obsess over it and try to balance my anxiety at the same time as completing finals.  What happened you ask?  Well earlier this year I got a tattoo on my shoulder.  Something I knew I had wanted for about two years.  I always wanted tattoos.  This one was very special to me, representing my love for my analysis of my past, present and future.  It was a self expression to show my love of nature and love of the idea of direction in life.  I had a great summer and fall in 2013.  I began work at Rodman Hall.  This art gallery was where I met some of the most supportive people in all of my time spent in the visual arts field.  I found a new love working with kids, and felt like I was finally on the path to a future I was going to be happy with.  Come fall I also rekindled my lost skill for painting and started playing music again daily.  By the time this tattoo was complete all of this history now remained on my arm. 

            At the beginning of December I decided I wanted another but it was not as thought out as much.  The artist took some artistic liberty and a good piece of my skin was then inked with something I was not happy looking at.  The anxiety over the tattoo led to a finalized decision and new obsession about Tattoo Removal.  This obsession carried many worries about how much ink would come out from my arm, the cost of the procedures that were going to take up the next two years of my life, what lasers were going to be used, and what other people’s results were by the end of their journey.  This obsession drove me into a deep depression.  Thoughts of wanting death began, uncontrollable crying sessions in front of my mother, father, and sister happened.  I felt low, stuck in a hole.  In a dark place about something I did to myself I never wanted to get myself into, all because I didn’t think out my actions the second time around.  Come Boxing Day and a trip to the hospital I was put on meds for anxiety and depression.  As soon as I began my medication, I was able to snap out of it and notice things I used to love. 

            A year before in 2012 I waited for someone. She was a new girl in my life who I had not so much time with because she lived the furthest west you could go across the country.  Boy was she something.  I had seen this beauty in her and knew I was going to wait this small amount of time for her.  She had to take a trip for herself to South America.  After she had returned, she flew me out west to work for her family, see the other side of the country, and just live with her in my life.  For two months I had to wait for her to fly back to Canada though.  I was left in my hometown, already living an extra two years at home to go to college, by that point I just wanted out.  But I found ways to cope.  I walked around my town a lot.  Saw the beauty in the maple trees in people’s yards, felt the cool winds from the beginning of summer on my face, got lost in my music, and just keep looking at the sun and clouds knowing tomorrow would come.  During these walks I thought a lot and during that summer I came home and painted a lot.  A new found talent became something I lived for.  I completed some of the best paintings I’ve ever painted in that 2 month waiting period.  Painting, walking, nature, time in forests, walking familiar streets and seeing the same houses you pass by for hours on end.  These things and appreciations were my life for a long time.  They were my peaceful escape from all my worries and stress.  They remained my therapeutic practises for when I moved back home, then to a newer city to go to University, and even when the time came for her and I to part our ways.

            Back to Christmas now.  After being medicated for the physical reactions to my anxiety and worries, I began to take a new course of action.  My Father and Mother rekindled my ability to look forward and not just backward.   Sure I had made a mistake, something that really hurt me emotionally and mentally.  But now I had to focus on all the old things that made me happy and understand I had other priorities to live my life for.  My dad began going on walks with me.  No longer was it just me now.  We would talk about his life when he was my age and discuss where I’m going with my life.  My mother cried over how proud she was of me.  She was able to view her son’s paintings in a local cafe and began to tear up quite a bit. So many new great things were coming up. 

            A new semester at school means I can now paint again more of what I want to paint and actually have it count towards my education.  I also now have a new term at Rodman Hall and am looking forward to working with all my old friends and co-workers in helping today’s youth be creative and crafty.  This month I was also able to put on an art show with my best friend, brother, and over all ARTner In Crime (yeah you see what I did there) at one of our favourite cafes.  This really showed me what potential I had.  Not just in making art but in getting it out there and being involved in a creative community with other people passionate about art.  Because of all of this, and seeing my mother’s reaction, I am now experiencing what I was in the summer of 2012.  No longer am I stuck.  I am recovering.  I go on a walk everyday on my own, I eat healthier, sleep better, paint every day, and take life one day at a time. 

            To the Future.  My sessions for laser tattoo removal are booked.  I’m very happy with where I’m going and the fact it’s so professional and 10 minutes from my childhood home just makes it even better.  I’m going to keep going home this semester and paint and walk with my father and tell my mother every day how much I love her.  Without her I probably wouldn’t have survived these 21 years.  I’ve decided for fun to make some new changes to counter life’s inevitable change and made some new strategies for staying positive in the process.  TO THE LIST OF REALITY AND POSITIVIE THINKING!

1.       Its just a tattoo, people get them all the time, and I’m not the first to have one I don’t like.
 2.  My new organized life schedule for this semester continues to move me forward and make me even closer with my parents to whom I love very much.
 3. staying positive and laughing about all of this is starting to make more sense and in the long run, I’m still Sean. 
4.  Being Sean means remembering those loves for nature, being outside, playing music, not being afraid to nerd out about your favourite bands, walking with a hop in your step when you’re bored, painting what you want to paint because you love doing it, and knowing that you’re never too far from the people who love you most whether it be friends or family. 

Something I learned from counselling today was that anxiety is weighed by negative thoughts and ability to cope.  If you keep your thoughts positive, it becomes easier to cope.  Keep thinking positive; take pride in what you’ve done, take pride in where you are now, and where you want to go.  We’re all human, and even in through the storms and raging winds, you’ll always be able to find that sunny day for a walk, some good tunes, chats with your father, and things to be thankful for.  

MOG #20: Knocks of opportunity

It's nice to know if you reach out to someone, they will reach right back for you. Such is the case with Mike; we were friends in high school and managed to keep in touch when we went to the same university. Such a passionate person, with big goals and even bigger dreams- a true go getter. Always a lovely surprise to run into this guy and he's one of my favourite people to have coffee with. If you know him - you can't help but be affected by his optimism, or practicality. What a great testament to mankind he is. Enjoy a well said MOG from a well spoken guy. 

It’s amazing how there are 1440 minutes in every single day and each one presents an opportunity. It’s also amazing how so many people let so many of these minutes pass by without recognizing the opportunity that presents itself.

Over the last 5 months I lived in Hong Kong as part of my semester abroad. I was blessed with so many opportunities along the way that I started to appreciate these precious minutes more. Obviously there are the big opportunities like having the chance to live in a new country, experience a new culture, try new foods, and meet incredible people. But what I didn’t think about was what the country was really made of. I had the opportunity to donate my bedding to a homeless person that needed it more than I did and I had the opportunity to take part in traditional Chinese dinners with my new roommate. Most of all though, every moment I stepped out of my room was an opportunity for me to better myself, to grow up, to change, to experience, but most of all to broaden my perspective. My opportunity to travel gave me the opportunity to get to know the world from a different perspective and ultimately gain much more appreciation for the people and places on this planet. For that, I am grateful.

My opportunity did not end when I came home though. I moved in with 5 new roommates which gave the me opportunity to meet new people, and new friends. I have new classes at Brock and this has given me the opportunity for a fresh start.

Everyday we are blessed with opportunity whether we know it or we don’t. For this, I am grateful.

MOG #19: Family room

One of the reasons I started this blog was because I wanted to get to hear from other writers, not that you all aren't great writers- the stories you've given me have been incredibly touching, but to read a post from someone who appreciates the stringing together of words in the way I do gives a great amount of satisfaction. I love writing, but I love reading so much too- especially when I have someone like my friend Cody telling his story. We met through English classes and I wish we would have met earlier just so we could have had more discussions, shared more ideas or given the chance to just be in the same class. Regardless, he's a very talented man, with a great view of the world and the words that come with it. I'm sure this isn't his first and only MOG, and I hope you all enjoy his craftmanship as much as I do. 

It took a while since setting out specifically to locate and write about a worthy moment of gratitude to come to the realization that all of them are worth writing down. Scouring your day to day life for something huge can, as the cliché goes, cause you to miss a small thing infinitely more important. For me, I found that today watching the San Diego Chargers play the Denver Broncos half-asleep in my living room.

The red leather that makes up the large part of my family's living room couch is always impossibly cold when your skin touches it, regardless of how long someone has been sitting on it. It's as if there's a tiny generator hidden under the middle cushion pumping cold air through all the cracks in the leather. A by-product of stretching out on this particular piece of furniture, then, is that you must first seek out and procure the warmest blanket in the nearby vicinity of the couch to protect yourself from the harsh winter of its fabrics. After arranging myself into a human burrito with a purple shell, I began to find myself drifting off to sleep amidst the running commentary of the announcers.

Except it wasn't the announcers, I realized, shaking myself out of what must have been less than a thirty second nap. It was my father, regaling my mother and I with a story of the days of his youth. This particular story was about a high school football game of some sort; with my father, the details are always lost in the kind of haze a sixty-nine year old man inevitably finds much of his history. Most of the time, you can tell when he's making bits up on the spot, smoothing over the tiny holes in the story his memory is no longer able to fill with the real events. Most of the time, I roll my eyes as I catch him and smile, making sure he's too busy to notice, gesturing wildly about some ridiculous scheme his brothers had involved him in when he was younger or the cheerleader who he is absolutely sure would have married him had he asked. Most of the time.

Today, I told him how ridiculous he was, and in the same breath told him how much I loved him and his stories. Something about the moment just stuck out from under the sea of self-wallowing a new term in school can bring crashing upon my shores. Despite the whirlwind of changes my life will likely be going through as I graduate this year and desperately try and figure out where I'm going, my dad will still be the exact same almost seventy storyteller, vehemently disagreeing with referees as a matter of principle. And while that rock may seem more like a pebble than a foundation to build stability on, to me my dad is as strong as any engineered slab of concrete, and his shoulders are bigger than any of the tall tales he tells me just to see me, out of the corner of his eye, roll my pupils skyward for a brief moment before sharing a smile.

MOG #18: Little, but a lot

There are three really significant things about this post. The first and foremost being it's from my best friend, Alex, whom you've already met (#8: A letter of Acceptance). The second being that this is her second time posting, proof that there's always something to be grateful for (And I really appreciate every time someone thinks of this blog when that happens). The last being that it's straight forward and short. I love the way you guys write; I love the effort, the style, the rhetoric, and if that's the way you want your MOG to be framed, that's fantastic. However simplicity is just as powerful and I encourage you to take on whatever form you see fit. Thanks again, sister of my soul. See you soon xoxo. 

Mary said a minimum of one sentence description is required for an MOG, so here it is – short and sweet. Today, my moment of gratitude is for one particular quick walk over to the local Starbucks;  a PSL when you thought they had gone out of season, and an hour or so escape from the world waiting for you back at school/home.

MOG #17: Love in letters

My heart is very happy that this person wrote for you all today; she's one of the most beautiful souls I've been lucky enough to find. Katie and I met in second year and bonded one day in Welsh hall over the fact that everything (school, roommates, moods, money) was awful but thank goodness that we had such "incredible" boyfriends who were "the only thing good in our lives" at the time. Oh how wrong we were.  While our relationships with these less than mediocre suitors ended about a month after, our friendship has only grown. From acquaintances, to best friends, to roommates and next year we become teacher candidates together, the laughs don't stop, the life chats never end, and the bond keeps growing. She's strong, she's aggressive, she's smart, she's the definition of sophisticated sass. I'm just one of her many fans. Adored by all, loved by many and she gives it right back. A truly selfless individual with a huge heart. I also happen to be a fan of her boyfriend too (Hi, Trav!!!!) and am really glad that her first post stems from the kindness in his heart too. Lots of heart to heart talk in this intro today; which is pretty much like a regular day in our humble abode.

Sometimes you have just one of those days, or weeks, or months, heck maybe even years. ‘m referencing towards the crap that life sometimes throws at you unexpectedly. I was having one of "those" weeks last week. In a matter of days I was told to pack my bags in September for a new city, sliced my thumb deep enough to warrant stitches and got stuck in a class with an individual that gives me unnecessary anxiety. Needless to say, life definitely threw some curveballs my way. But the beautiful thing that came out of all this was the support I received from a pretty special person.

Travis is my boyfriend of going on 2 years. As individuals, we don't particularly handle stress well and we certainly know how to test each others limits when the two of us are stressed together. While I was going through the many different emotions due to various events Travis was one step ahead in lightening the situation. I sliced my thumb and he called me Thumbelina; not only adorable but hilariously appropriate and being told that I'm loved no matter where I go is possibly the most comforting feeling. This kid didn't stop there. When he visited this weekend he showed up with a surprise. A Tim's card for coffee on my busy days and a card that reads.

Katie,

This has been a very tough week! A lot of unexpected things have happened and its hard coming back to school with anything like this! BUT you have been amazing throughout the whole ordeal! You have really proven how tough you are and with what the world can throw at you. You know exactly how to search through a situation and find something to make the best out of it. I have no doubt you will find that special thing wherever you are and with however many stitches you have at the time. We do not know what will give you enjoyment, but what I do know is I will be there with you to support you every step of the way.

Those words didn't quite hit me until I read them again after he left. The support shown in that note made me grateful that I have not only a kickass boyfriend but so many supportive people in my life. Its the crap that life throws at you that reminded me of who will be there through thick and thin. Needless to say , I've been blessed with a pretty solid partner in crime for those good and bad days, and I am truly grateful for that.

MOG #16: just January

One of my friends mentioned he was just feeling 'blah'as of late, like the life had been sucked out of him and he didn't want to anything. We've all been there, especially around this time of year. Honestly, blame it on the weather. Take a load off yourself and put it on something as arbitrary as the weather if that makes you feel a little bit better. This is the time of year to find any excuse to be happy, to choose happy. Little things- new mugs, extra cheese, loud music, good reads, loose pants... whatever it is, indulge. Feel good.

Then move on. 
I found this little life note I kept on USB when my hard drive got wiped. Written almost a year ago through a very therapist-ey/self loving practice. Basically you write down all the things that are bothering you on one side of the page, walk away from the document for a few minutes, and then come back to reassess as if you were someone else.  After reading it I just felt better when I didn't even know I was feeling that bad.

This mog is all about being thankful for the bad days that make the good days worth living; for the tough times that make you stronger and for the fact that I save little samples of writing for rainy days-it's all really nice to look back on.

 I just wanted to show you all that we all go through really hard times- I look at this document and remember just how low I was feeling that day.  I'm sharing this with you all not to say than I'm any more superhero-like than everyone, (y'all are the real hero's to me every time you read the submissions or write your own), just that I'm right there with you; I've been there too. Life's tough, you're tougher.
It's just January. Spring is on her way. Hang in there. 

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