2009 was quite an interesting year, to say the least. It really tried our patience and, as is the nature of CF, kept me humbled. I like to plan and to follow that plan as closely as I can but as I learned, plans cannot always follow a linear path.

December 2008: I had started IVs on December 15, after a record-breaking 3 years without them. With this in mind, I felt grateful I had gone so long without them and welcome the oppertunity to boost my pfts from the mid-30's back to the 40's. I spent 1 week in the hospital then continued home IVs during Christmas and New Years.

January: I picked up a weird bug (while on IVs) on the exact same day my pfts finally reached baseline. Within one week I went from being back to health and ready to start my second semester to in the hospital, with pfts in the mid 20s, spiking fevers and on oxygen 24/7. I dropped down to part-time studies for the first time and spent my 22nd birthday in the hospital (my nurse pulled some strings and gave me a day pass to go home for a few hours.)

During this time I met my hospital roomie, Arlene, who was (and still is) waiting for a liver transplant. We enjoyed late night convos and shared small milestones.

February: Still on oxygen, but going for walks around the hospital every day--even though it was usually forced by my parents. The most frustrating part of this was that I was unable to eat since January because the fevers made it difficult and I constantly felt full. I went home for one week of home care, but quickly got worse again, so I ended up back in the hospital.

March: After 13 long weeks, I finished IVs, got off the oxygen (only used for exercise now) and finally went home for good. My pfts only ever went back up to 28%, but I have enjoyed good health since then.

April: PICC line removed. To celebrate the end of a long winter, we take a family trip to Naples, Florida.

May: Go for my transplant consultation at TGH, on the way home I get a call for a job interview.

June: Start my summer full-time job at Theatre Collingwood as a PR assistant. Move to Collingwood for the summer. Beautiful place, where there is rarely a smog alert day!

July: We experience our coolest summer yet. No swimming in Georgian Bay, that's for sure.

August: I go for my four-day transplant assessment workup at TGH. Start this blog and begin to follow the blogs of other CFers.

September: Start back at school as a part-time student. A little weird to adjust too, but I definitely don't have to worry about not being busy enough.

October: Busy, busy with school. (which is probably why I don't remember much from that month!)

November: Lots of transplant stories receiving headlines. Eva's story airs on CBC, along with Natalia's. My own magazine article that I write about a fellow CFer is approved for publication (coming soon!)

December: My mom and I go for a week-long trip to Barbados and come home in time for Christmas. Spend most of the break at our chalet in Collingwood, enjoying skiing and the relaxation!

Happy New Year Everyone!

I should also add--belatedly--that 2009 was the year I grew closer to my CF cysta, H and met Ash--a fellow CFer who later recieved a transplant. Proof that good always comes from the bad.

I have not been skiing since last year before I went on my 14-week stint of IVs (around this time). My lung function was hanging around 35% so I needed a little tune-up (which ended up being a big tune-up). However, when I was admitted the doctors were surprised to learn that just days earlier I had been skiing at Blue Mountain (not actually a mountain as the title suggests). I was able to do 8 runs.

Flash-forward to this year and my lung function is about the same, but I have a new addition to my ski equipment: oxygen. Luckily, I only require 3L for working out which means I can use a portable concentrator (or POC), which is NOT compressed air. I found the perfect little backpack to carry it around in and a nice little ‘disguise’ to cover the tubing (though I didn’t end up using it much, because it was not as comfortable. Comfort first!).

It weighs about 5 lbs, which is slightly challenging for a petite gal’ like myself, but I managed quite well. As I glided down my first run I had to remind myself to breath with my nose and not my mouth (so I could get the benefits of the 02). Easier than I thought. My lungs were at the top of their game: no coughing spasms, no overly fast racing heart, no white spots, no headaches, no exhaustion. In fact, my legs gave out (literally) before my lungs did.

As I finished my sixth run of the day, I felt my legs begin to collapse beneath me. So down I went—as gracefully as one could—and I sat there trying to figure out how to get up since:
1- I rarely fall
2- The added 5 lbs of the backpack made me feel like a fallen turtle
3- My legs were finished and could only respond by trembling in objection

So I struggled for a couple of minutes, desperately hoping I wouldn’t attract attention, then popped off my skis and stood up quickly before putting them back on again. There is always an easier method.

I’m so glad I decided to try skiing with oxygen, it made it so much more enjoyable and now I have a new record to beat. My legs now have to catch up with my lungs.

Airplane travel is amazing, isn't it?

One morning you could be strolling along a tropical beach, with the rolling waves reaching up to stroke your bare feet. By the evening, you could be bundled up in layers, trudging through mounds of snow as you venture from the airport terminal to a heated car.

This sets the scene of what I experienced less than a week ago.

My Mom and I decided to go to Barbados after my cystic cysta raved about it upon her return home (and already quickly booked another trip back). We found a pretty decent deal and a few days after my semester officially ended, we were Barbados-bound.

When I first stepped off the plane I was quite surprised by the humidity. But, it is still the end of their summer and apparently it has been hotter than most years. Unfortunately, my lungs are not big fans of humidity and it tired me out quite quickly. But the rest of my body welcomed the heat (and the beach bar and delicious food), so I have NO complaints!

We were entertained by karaoke the first night (note: those who were leaving the island the next day were not shy about sharing their musical er... [dis]abilites.) And later in the week we served as an audience to the much talked about Mr. Impact.

Since I had more energy for this trip we were also able to do a couple of excursions. One was called the 360 Tour, which was a bus tour of the entire island. And although I'm not a fan of bus tours, this one was well paced and entertaining. We stopped at Speightstown, which is a little fishing town (we didn't stop very long, but it was a Sunday and not much was open anyway). But, we stopped long enough to catch a group of shirtless guys wearing c-mas hats leaving the dock for a scuba dive. I wish I could scuba dive.

We also stopped at the 'blow holes' which are on the North side of the island and really stunning (I will post pictures of all this once I have time to get to my other computer!) before venturing to St. Nicholas Abbey Plantation, which is an amazing piece of property that has been restored. Good rum punch there too. Another notable stop was Bathsheba on the East coast, which again was quite a site (apparently a popular site for surfers, but not on the day we went).

Although I cannot scuba dive, I CAN snorkel. And snorkel I did! My Mom and I went on a catamaran tour that included two snorkel stops. The first stop was to snorkel with the turtles... unfortunately I didn't last too long. The current was a little strong for me (even though I had a lifejacket, I get exhausted quickly from swimming) so I found myself getting very out of breath and a slight headache. But before I swam back to the catamaran I did see a little turtle. On my way back, one of the crewmates told me that a big turtle was behind me and I fully thought he was joking. Turns out he wasn't and after I climbed on the catamaran I saw two giant turtles (one surfaced right in front of my Mom, who was still in the water, and I was impressed she didn’t scream). So I didn't miss out on the action!

The second snorkel stop was over two shipwrecks (though I believe one of the shipwrecks was purposely sunk...) I was able to last longer for this one because of one very important addition... flippers! I've never been the strongest swimmer in the world, so flippers are a godsend. It was really neat to see all the fish up close and personal... the shipwrecks too!

I'm sure I could go on and on about the details of our trip, but overall it was a great seven days. Time to explore, unwind, and eat a lot (I gained all my weight back). Also, on both plane rides I did not need to use my oxygen. The lowest I dipped was 87 (which is slightly hypoxic, but nothing concerning or long-term) and I generally teetered around 94, which is my norm. (Normal values are between 95-100, but everyone's oxygen levels naturally drop when they are at a higher altitude.)

For now, it is back to the snow and back to the slopes.