Cancer Selfies

Hospice VLog September 9th

A short (hopefully) daily video about what's going on in hospice. Today, some edited selfies from the past few days. Today's rambling video in the comments.

Three years since my first public cancer complaint

I've come to learn a lot about pain, in all its horendous flavours, these past years.

There was the stabbing, burning intensity of whatever the tumor in my pre-treatment naval was doing. A feeling so intense it could block visition. I had a lot of traveling to do that summer, and an exam to write, the pain pulled me off the road at least a half dozen times, and had it struck during my exam I might never have been able to call myself an electrician for those brief days.

There is the strange knotted numbness I felt with the surgical incision. As the hydromorphone hit and began to work, it was as though someone with the gentleist, most skilled touch was gently untying knots in the nerves, the sensation starting slow in the very pit of pain (where the naval used to be). The result didn't even register as a pain/no pain feeling, more the sort of relief feeling your body gives you whenever you've done something right (like when you stop holding your bladder too long, but to a much greater extent).

Recently, after the total bowel obstruction and the begginning of my stay in hospice, the pain registered as an extremely intense heartburn. It had a component in it of real heart burn, because over the counter medications helped briefly, sometimes enough to fall asleep (when combined with well timed sleep aids), but often it as just too painful to sleep. The solution to this was less painkiller based and more based on modifying how my digestive system works, but the cancer pain still manifested differently and in a way I wouldn't expect.

Cancer pain has dominated most of the last three years of my life. Only though accepting my fate and accepting a pain pump (truly a miricle machine to those in need) have I been able to break free of it. Or, at least, dramatically losten the strength of the teather. And I am happy for the freedom.

The following was originally posted September 9, 2023

I really wish I better understood why this is a symptom, probably something to do with the pain.

Anyways, we didn't know it, but I've now been talking cancer for two years. I have no idea what to think of that.

The following was originally posted September 9, 2021

Super glad my body has decided that hunger is boring and unhelpful and instead goes all in on confusion and irritability

Hospice Part 9, the final hospice video (but hospice videos will continue)

In hospice I remain, but this series has run its course. I can no longer express to you the strangeness of a place that has become mundane.

Hospice was a liminal space in which I have been trapped, trapped until my personal avatar of death, of passing on, of transition and freedom comes to me and sets me into the whatever comes next.

I'm beginning to think it's liminal all the way down.

Output will continue, but like Cancer Selfies, Hospice is completed.

The full hospice playlist

Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.

If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.

Ghouls are still out there

When you get diagnosed with a serious disease, the flood gates open to all that quasi legal direct drug marketing. You are inudated with smiling people in lab coats, with their perfectly chosen glasses and pure white smiles.

I've met scientists, and these are not they are not. These are amoung the lowest of the low, marketers. But I'm not here to take on marketers, at least they're hawking a product with some evidence behind it.

The moment you're life starts to be about hospice care, and pallieative medicine, the true monsters crawl out of the woodwork. The purveyers of fake medicine (largely harmless en mass, but deadly to you, kind) who are sure that whatever fad diet they like this week and some yoga will kick those tumours asses (and if not, remember, you just didn't try hard enough). There are the health cults, which are the same as the first group but really want to get their kill count up before their caught. They'll come in the form of gurus and faith healers (especially faith healers, never, ever trust someone with an invisible, untestable product.

Then you've got piles and piles and piles of traditional practices. I don't make time in my day for any of that, but it's your life, if its part of your tradition then I hope you get what you need from it, and if it isn't maybe consider your last mortal action not being one of appropriation.

I would relish conversation on a lot of subjects. This isn't one of them.

The following was originally posted September 1, 2023

I was writing a post about the evils of complementary and alternative medicine and my power went out 😮

Coincidence? I mean, yeah, probably, those fiends are too busy finding cancer patients to take advantage of

From the comments

James Petrosky: Got an issue with my fundamental point here? I encourage you to go do some good quality research. I'm not available to argue about to ❤️

James Petrosky: If it makes you feel better, new agers and faith healers are similarly problematic. Also not debating this.

---

Ron: Not enough is made of the fact that people who push that crap are actively preventing people who need real help from getting it in time to matter. Evil indeed.

James Petrosky: Ron I was reading my memories and it apparently took less than a day for the algorithm to serve up this kind of stuff to me. Skepticism has long been one of my interests, so I'm okay, but not everyone would be

Hospice Part 8, I lost the joy for a moment

Last night, I had a brief crisis of faith, so to speak, as I looked out upon my hospice suite and saw not the cozy, whimsical little nest we had constructed over the past weeks, but a hospital room, fancier and better appointed than most, but sterile and lacking.

The feeling passed this time. It wasn't too difficult to challange. But a single datum points no where, is this a bad night or the look of things to come?

I know not, but know that I have all of you on my side, and I'm confident that is enough.

)

The full hospice playlist

Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.

If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.

Big Chute Marine Railroad

Sitting on my mother's recliner, recovering from my aborted cytoreduction+HIPEC surgery, I had plenty of time to watch YouTube videos with my parents and join them (well, largely my father) in sharing interests. Selected highlights include the extremely well web cam covered city of Ust-Kut, Russia, a visit to Bourbon Street most evenings, and following ships through the Great Lakes-St. Lawrence Seaway. Plus, of course more 40s and 50s detective stuff than it seems possible for a human to get through. It was a nice time.

Ocasionally, we'd split the live feeds up with people's travel videos, short documentaries, and silent walk throughs. And I got inspired. While, in terms of years, I had little time, but in terms of free hours, I had more than I needed.

That inspiration became fixation one day when we were looking at videos of odd locks. Bathtub hydraulic locks, like the kind at Kirkfield and Peterborough, fancier versions of the same that sweep circular arcs, large shipping locks. But the one that caught my attention most and quickest was not really a lock at all, it was the Big Chute Marine Railroad.

Big Chute is part of the Trent-Severn Waterway, a national historic site(s) located in Ontario, allowing water traffic to travel from Trenton, Ontario, to travel to Port Severn on Georgian Bay, bypassing Lake Erie and the St. Claire River (which made a lot of sense in the post War of 1812 days). It's also only about an hour from where I lived at the time, and was a perfect picnic outing to start my living at home surgical recovery.

Operation is simple, the railway has a car, pulled by cables in a central wheelhouse, to which boats attach. When the car is full, or there's no one waiting, the cables pull the car to the other side. It was fascinating for me to watch, I ended up canceling another stop for the day and listening to podcasts while eating tuna sandwiches at a picnic area nearby.

The reason they didn't construct a conventional lock here (like they did on all but a few other locations on the canal) are that the rock would have been prohibitively expensive to blast, being hard precambrian shield, as opposed to much younger sandstones and limestones. The vertical drop added to this issue. These days, it's good that they didn't go this way, it allows the Big Chute to remain passable to spawning native fish, but an impenetrable barrier to of concern invasive fish. This engineer likes it when oddities of engineering are functional as well as weird, and Big Chute really counts for that.

Big Chute was my first stepping stone to recovery, and the fall of 2023, when I was off on a silly yet exciting, to me, adventure every couple of days. I taught myself how to make videos, to document, and to have fun doing it. Getting through eight months of chemo, and actively deciding not to give up after the failure of the surgery I gambled so much on, started to pay off here. I choose to be my day's best self every morning (even if best self is a slug who eats Doritos in bed and watchs Archer on repeat for three days and does nothing else), and Big Chute is an important inflection point. Yes, I was doomed. But I was still alive. Still here. And making something of it was going to be a delight.

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Maverick the Golden Retriever

An advantage of a small town hospital that isn't always available to larger centres (where administrators can be found on weekends) is that sometimes you can get a surprise dog visit. This weekend I won the Golden Retriever lottery and got to spend some quality time with the lovely and extremely soft Maverick.

His sidekick, Goose the cat, stayed home.

Maverick belongs to one of the staff members here and is known to come in and cheer up the patients when the human has time.

I, for one, am full of gratitude and joy at being included in this visit, these days I'm 100% in camp poodle, but growing up I was in love with the world's dopiest Labrador (and imagine the competition for that title) and barely drew distinction between the various retriever breeds.

Maverick was the smiling sunshine coloured ray I needed, and she was kind enough to leave behind enough golden glitter to keep the cleaning staff busy for days.

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Healy 2019

In 2019, I took my first real vacation with Alicia. We visited my parents camp at Healey, Ontario, near my hometown of Chapleau. As close to any place in the world ever could be, Healey is my home. It's where I spent my summers until I departed for university, and where I hurried back to when those university summers allowed. It was special to me in a way no where else could be.

Alicia and I spent the week exploring the lake (Como Creek, Grazing Inlet, the falls, the ghost town of Nicholson, packed with living Petroskys and Tremblay), fishing, hiking and exploring dead logging roads. Plant and animal identification guides in hand (soft cover books, your kilometres, or a lucky hill, away from reception) we looked at flowers and mushrooms and tried to figure out which red berry was which. At least sugar plums/service berries/Saskatoon berries, blueberries and raspberries are easy and rewarding to identify.

Chapleau is a place with little left for me, although I was looking forward to my final visit this summer. I was going to plan it like one of my central Ontario outlines, focusing on claims to fame, old restaurants, weird signs and the like. There's have been enough for an afternoon and a video. And I'd have liked to have done that.

Alicia got an informal version of they trip, the adventure that came four years before the first cancer adventure. It was nostalgic for me, and as always just a little bittersweet. Chapleau isn't the Chapleau I knew (nor should it be, I left).

The next trip I planned with Alicia was past the pandemic, past a mental health crisis or two, past diagnosis, HIPEC's failure and past this last round of chemo. On July 5th, we were to set out towards Alberta to meet dinosaurs and the ruins of Frank and accidentally be in Calgary during the stampede and none of it ever happened. Because that week the cancer won.

The cancer was ways going to win. And I don't care that it has. My capacity for adventure has decreased, but I'll wake up every morning seeking it. And these days, I'm pretty good at finding it, too.

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Hospice Part 7, August 23, 2023

Hospice is a liminal space, a place between life (and those skilled in the healing arts) and death (backed, in my case, by one of the most feared phrases in the English language (cancer, stage four). It's an easy space to get lost in, an easy space for the truly horrifying facts of life to set in and become mundane (the last time I truly consumed food was July 5th, the last bowel movement shortly after.

Todau the metastable system we had developed over the past month collapsed a bit as my partner departed the hospice for the real world of primary school teaching. It's been inevitable since the 5th. The whole group, Alicia, myself, friends, family. We've all known. And so far, while it's only been hours, it feels right.

I genuinely don't know if I expected to last this long. But I have, and I'm still relatively sturdy. I'm now looking forward to spending more time with my brothers and parents (and poodles and Thomasin).

The full hospice playlist

Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.

If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.

Dying My Hair

I never had a phase in high school where I experimented with my look very much. Never dyed my hair, never experimented with makeup, never even really changed up my clothing style until after I graduated from university. It's not that I didn't want to (for differing amounts of want), it's that I wasn't brave enough to take the plunge.

I recieved my last prepandemic hair cut in December 2021 (I always tried to clean up a bit for Christmas) and, when I first met my medical oncologist in late August 2022, I'd grown quite the head of hair. And that I was likely to lose it during treatment.

My partner and I picked the blue that I was supposed to end up with, and Lilly Hill and I set to work transforming my brown hair (accidentally, beautifully) green.

In hindsight, this is the first item crossed off the Remission List. Something I had long wanted to do that I needed the excuse of cancer to finally push myself into. Learning to paint my nails slots in here nicely, too. Doubly so because chemotherapy weakens your nails and raises risk of them falling off if you aren't caredul.

It helped set the stage for accomplishing every difficult or embarrassing or otherwise challenging thing I'd face at least until at least the time I'm writing this: I need to have the strength and stubbornness to say yes, to be willing to chase after the things that are important or joyous or worthwhile for me, but I can borrow a whole lot of that strength and skill from the people I'm lucky enough to have in my life.

And I'm very lucky to have all of you in my life, in whatever little capacities we can exchange

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Windemere: 2008

Every morning, I look forward to what Facebook memories has for me. Are they emotional landmines that will take me hours to resolve, leaving me better able to deal with my condition tomorrow? Will they be presently unresolvible, causing damage until I can put them from my head?

Or will they be a photo from an adventure I had, years before I had the understanding of selfies.

Today is an anniversary of one of the times I took my long term partner in university out to the camp. 2008 could be first or second trip out. I didn't drive and she didn't have a car, so I know the logistics were terrible.

We were on our ways up Grazing inlet, having just left the ghost town of Nicholson to visit whatever of the Tremblay clan was kicking about.

Grazing Inlet, and much of Lake Windemere in general, was carved direct from the rock gouged and scratched during the areas glacial maximum.

Tldr this is how I looked in university, and until I switched it all up for hospital gowns I was doing pretty okay, fashion wise.

The following was originally posted August 21, 2023

I pay a lot of attention to both Facebook memories and the like these days, but I did not expect the gift they gave this morning.

From August 21st, 2008

Deer Trail Touring Route

The Deer Trail Touring Route is a circle of highway running through Elliot Lake, Iron Bridge and Blind River. Its got some neat geology, has some different forest types, has plenty of lakes and takes you along the Mississagi River where it is most calm and joyful. Since my parents made the move to Elliot Lake, it's something that's been on my list.

Today, my partner and our Squish Squad crossed it off The List Formally Known as the Remission List. I don't know if it'll be my final road trip, but all future trips have to take Highway 17, a highway I've been familiar with my whole life, which cuts the sense of adventure.

I tried to find a good puddingstone outcrop, but construction equipment and blind corners foiled us. Puddingstone is a rock with large cobbles embedded in a fine grained matrix, and the Southern Province of the Canadian Shield has some excellent outcrops.

We looked at rivers and river stones, the Little White River meandering across the landscape, leaving marshy oxbow lakes full of water lilies and lily pads. Areas with deep, rich soils supporting mixed wood forests, and wind blown sand deposits dating from glaciation, covered only in jackpine.

As we came out of the forest and began to approach Iron Bridge (no longer home to its bridge), we entered the pasture land that we always looked forward to growing up, because I've always been an animal person and cows are just not a thing you saw in Chapleau. I don't recall seeing any today.

We resupplied (aka bought props) in Iron Bridge (the bridge is mostly iron, but it's not the bridge the town is named for) and headed off to the Mississagi River Rest stop for our little picnic photo op. In the past, I'd have been too self conscious to bring that kind of silliness into the world where others could see it, theoretically, much less a dozen people seeing it in actuality.

This is the sort of strength and resilience I've grown over the past two years. I've grown free of parts of myself I needed to let go of. And it's never to late to relish that kind of joyful freedom

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Science North - Main Hall

Summer 2023, the whole of my mother's side of the family got together for a baby shower for one of my cousins. My brothers and I (along with partners) decided to extend the weekend into our own celebration of life for our maternal grandfather.

When we were much younger, my grandparents would take us to Science North, a science centre in Sudbury, Ontario. We'd usually take in a show, his term for any film, but in this context an Imax nature documentary, we'd occasionally visit the exhibition space, especially if there was a dinosaur exhibit (I never grew out of my dinosaur phase) and finally we'd explore the main hall and all its wonders.

The main hall has largely remained unchanged since I was a child. The stairs in the main hall are dominated by a magnificent fin whale Skeleton. There's geology exhibits (and the whole site is built into a mighty fine geological exhibit, the Canadian Shield). Other highlights include local wildlife, including a stunner of a porcupine, turtles, bat's an a collection of insects. We didn't take in any of the short shows or interactive activities aimed at children, but did spend some time in the butterfly room, where I, still recovering from chemotherapy after months off, enjoyed the extra heat and humidity.

After we were done enjoying our healthy nostalgia, celebrating our grandparents in a way that I will always most associate with them, we took a swing by Jak's Diner in New Sudbury to relive a powerful food memory I have. In the case of science North, I found the memory enjoyable to play in. With Jak's, even though nothing had seemingly changed, the strands of nostalgia escaped me, and while the food was good, it wasn't the same. It was an interesting lesson in nostalgia for me, but thankfully one that didn't set the stage for my future trips.

After departing Sudbury and returning to Midland, I felt a more solid footing in my relationships with my siblings, the exact sort of place I wanted, and needed, to be going into what all my oncologists were calling my final year to year and a half of life.

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Science North - Exhibition Space

Summer 2023, the whole of my mother's side of the family got together for a baby shower for one of my cousins. My brothers and I (along with partners) decided to extend the weekend into our own celebration of life for our maternal grandfather.

When we were much younger, my grandparents would take us to Science North, a science centre in Sudbury, Ontario. We'd usually take in a show, his term for any film, but in this context an Imax nature documentary, we'd occasionally visit the exhibition space, especially if there was a dinosaur exhibit (I never grew out of my dinosaur phase) and finally we'd explore the main hall and all its wonders.

We missed the Imax showings this time, they didn't really fit in with my brother's bus trip back to Ottawa, but we did spend time in the wildly lit event space and the main snowflake.

This was the third big outing I had post surgery, the first being the trips from Toronto to Elliot Lake, where I spent my recovery period, and from Elliot Lake back to Midland when I felt capable of living on my own again. This was the first big outing I was excited about, both the family reunion part at the baby shower and the Science North part.

The highlight of the dinosaur exhibit, for me, was the stegosaurus. Stegosaurus has long been my favourite dinosaur. It's not the largest, fastest or strongest, but I adore their plates and spikes and tiny little heads.

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Hospice Part 6, corgwen, a concert, and shopping

This last video interval had me take two trips off hospital grounds. It was exciting to go to old familliar places and pick my own snacks.

The full hospice playlist

Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.

If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.

Elliot Lake (the actual lake) Beach Day at Spruce Beach

Today, my friends from university, Leslie and Josh, were in town to visit. After some chit-chat-catching-up, they took me out for my second outing since entering hospice a month ago.

First, we did a raid of the LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario, the booze store) pretty much like we did in university: buy one of everything that seemed new or interesting (it was a good day for Collective Arts Brewing of Hamilton, who had the most new and interesting stuff to us) and a few old favourites (I couldn't find the wheat beer I wanted, and forgot the name of the one I did buy, but I know I've enjoyed it in the past and look forward to it tomorrow).

I had asparations of visiting the Miner's Memorial on Horne Lake, and the always enjoyable to me Fire Tower Lookout (if you ever came to visit me in Elliot Lake, these would have been on the itenary), but I just don't have the energy I used to, so we skipped to Elliot Lake, the lake, itself for some photos and experiences.

The most important thing for me was wading into the lake, even if it was only a bit. When I got the Port-O-Cafh inserted, I was promised that I could go swimming. The access point was under the skin, not a tube sticking out through the skin, and safe from the elements. But as it stands I have the Port, three subcutaneous access points (pain pump, Nozinan, general use) and an IV.

There will be no swimming for me, but the feeling of the lake on my skin and sand between toes was everything I hoped it would be. Today was a cool, overcast day, which lessened the magic of the moment slightly, but I imagined the heat wave we had a few weeks ago, and felt the heat, and found a moment of perfect stillness.

I'd have stayed in that quiet forever, but their was silliness to get up to with Tomara. She needed an accessible beach scooter ride (truth be told, I'm the one who was in need, or nearly so), wanted to go on the swing (not pictured) and have a few fun photo ops.

It was a day of ups and downs. I had a great deal of fun, got to taste (and plan to taste) new things. I had scotch, a tiger tail milkshake, and delicious pho broth. But I ran up against my strength and endurance, hard. It's good to know where I stand, but I wish it was elsewhere.

Still, though, another great day in hospice with the people that give my life meaning (and a pretty spectacular and unexpected sunset).

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Huntsville - Tom Thompson and Wood Fired Pizza

I visited Huntsville, Ontario (the only Huntsville of consequence) when I wanted to take a break from exploring the Trent-Severn Waterway, but still wanted to see some historical locks, the Brunel Locks. It's just a single lock in a pretty little park, nothing special other than the fact if exists at all.

Huntsville's more navigable past is also on display at their decommissioned swing bridge, located downtown.

But really none of this is why I visited this little city. Huntsville is home to dozens of murals inspired by the works of Tom Thompson and the Group of Seven. I chose this as a perfect place to push myself, physically, a bit to see how I was recovering from the failed surgery earlier in the summer. I managed to find most of the outdoor art with listed locations, and did find all of the pieces that mattered most to me.

I ate at That Little Place by the Lights and had their Diavola pizza, and I genuinely regret not getting two more kinds as takeout so I could try them later.

Huntsville was a easy adventure for me, lots of sight seeing, as much exertion as I wanted, fantastic lookouts, a little bit of mystery (why is there a single lock in the middle of no where?) and the exact sort of food I craved.

While I was taking these trips, it was as much about proving to myself I was still capable of living a life worthwhile, even in the face of death krwld, as it was generating the positive memories that would carry me through the (in hindsight, not so) harsh winter. And Huntsville, with its statue of Tom, abundance of his works and a pizza I remember fondly nearly a year later, may be as close to the platonic ideal of what I was doing. It was beautiful, the sun was warm, the cola was icy and the dough had just enough of that yeast flavour I crave so much.

A perfect day in a place I'd have never otherwise visited. There's a lesson there, but it is left as an exercise for the reader.

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Fed is Best: The Taco Bell Quest

I maintained my weight during my full course of my chemotherapy treatment. From September 2022 until this spring, I fluctuated 2kg around a stable average. I am genuinely proud of this, and credit much of my end game physical resilience to this fact.

Lilly introduced me to the wonders of Taco Bell, the kind of wonderful place where ordering one of everything is possible, fun and not too outrageous (even if I never did it). The kind of place where those life giving calories are easy to eat. There were other fast food restaurants that I went to more, that contributed more to my stability, but Taco Bell was special.

Our two nearest locations were about a half hour away, which is the perfect length for one of those conversations I only seem to be have on road trips. We'd always get the same things (Delux Box + Crunchwrap Supreme for me, Taco Bell leftovers do great in a toaster oven)., but always talk the options.

We went to real restaurants, too.. More sushi than I can recall, pho, wings and everything we could find in the area, but it's the Taco Bell, and the little adventures it required, that is the strongest, most joyful of the mundane memories I call back on when the cancer pain strikes.

The nearest Taco Bell is in a mall in Sudbury. Two hours away. A doable distance, but it would never work with my nasal tube. I'm forever cut off, but the memory of food and friends is more than strong enough to keep me going

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The Band

Corgi Band day would have been nothing without the wonderful humans who showed up and made it happen. From left to right in the group shot, they are Thor, Catherine, Bruce, me, Alison, and Tom (The Jammers). Plus Bennie the corgi. These people made a very sick person's day (and week and month), for which im tremendously thankful.

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James Meets a Corgi

The List Formally Known as the Remission List has a wide variety of weird and fun things to do on it. From visiting all the historic locks of the Trent-Severn Waterway, to hearing each carillon in the province (country?) play a piece, to participating in a lottery and seeing certian animals that are dear to me. And while I like moose and beaver and painted turtles, no animal was closer to my heart than the beautiful corgi.

I genuinely expected this to be an easy one. I'd be out walking, someone else in the park would have a small wiggle of corgwen. I'd ask to pet them, mark something off my list, and have a moderately better day.

Instead, I had a magical day with my new corgi friend Bennie, and the band she brought along (coming in a future entry!) catapulted the moderately better I expected from crossing off this item to one of the best days I've had in the whole of 2024 (and I got to meet Wiarton Willy this year, a life long goal of mine)

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