What Are You Packing In Your Bag?

At my last oncologist appointment I was given the results from the CT scan a couple weeks back.

“We found a suspicious lump in your Axilla. I’ll order an ultrasound and biopsy and they’ll call within a day or two”

A cancer journey is a bit like a wooden roller coaster the ride feels smooth at times, feels like your seatbelt is loose and you might fall off at times, feels bumpy and like it’s about to collapse at times and you just never know which turn you’re about to take or when you’ll ever get to get off.

But, if you’re packing your bag for a day at the amusement park, you have choices. Pack some sun protection, or end up with a burn. Don’t keep change in your pocket, or end up donating it to the ground.

So, what if you’re packing for a week of waiting for what could possibly be terrible news? What would you choose? Would you fill your bag with stress, anxiety and worry or could you pack your bag another way?

Mikey packed his lunch every day with stress, anxiety and worry. He’s so tired from all of this. I really think he handles it “worse” than me. He says things like: “I just can’t bare the thoughts of losing you” He packs a really big lunch.

My sessions with Craig, the years looking at my life, the trauma, the choice to remain constant with my personal growth has helped me more than I might have ever realized if I wasn’t riding this cancer coaster.

Instead of being worried, stressed, or anxious, I confronted my worst possible scenario. Instead of eating fear for breakfast, I had my session with Craig. I wasn’t worried, I wasn’t stressed, I wasn’t anxious.

I was ready to take on the week, and pack my bag. Here’s what the bag for the week looked like:

Monday I was with Craig, had a nap and then Kylee and I taught the PINKS 🩷 ladies how to make sourdough. We laughed, we snacked and we connected over bread.

I had some work Tuesday, which fills my heart, and then had follow up for my interns and students. We laughed so hard, they learned new things and we explored curiosity about how to handle sessions so they have some more tools to pack in their bags. I love watching them grow and their love for helping others with TIR. I don’t know what the best part was for them, but I might have chose the funniest way to die in the after party time together. 🤪 I was talking about the boob dent and how I can’t wait to get it fixed so I can clean it easier and without pain. Alexia asked me if I ever tried to water pick it. Good idea. Except my water pick has a cord and water picking this dent would be like power washing the bathroom. Then I started thinking about what could happen if I brought the water pick into the shower. I’d need an extension cord since the plug is too far from the shower. Instantly, I could see the whole thing unfolding and for some reason it was way too funny. Sylvie was sitting close beside me and I could feel her laughter bubbling over as I nearly wet my pants. Sylvie just gets me, and she’s always ready to laugh with me. 🩷 I said: “there’s no part of me who would want to leave this world with some lame ass story like after a long and painful battle with breast cancer, she succumbed to her illness” but, it sounds like me so long as everyone knew what happened because why waste a funny story!?!! to have an obituary that read “after one hell of a ride on the cancer coaster she was water picking her boob dent in the shower and died from electrocution” It feels so original, and funny. Alexia, although smiling and laughing with me was busy ordering me a cordless water pick. I feel like the luckiest girl alive, my TIR family is such a gift, in so many ways! These nights and times pack so much goodness and love in my bag!

Wednesday was also amazing! We took Kalvin to the dog park and then left him for his spa day with Corrie, and the kids and I went to Joe for a tea and danish then strolled through the local maker. I got myself a cute little pouch to make medication storage not feel so gross. Then, we picked up Kalvin and I met Ana at King Street Cafe for some yummy blueberry pie tea, a sandwich and a lovely time of connection. At the end of the day I felt my whole body dancing.

Thursday, I got to share the day with Kylee and my cousins. We talked, laughed, shared stories and vulnerabilities and didn’t lose the car. It was great to see them. Renee and I have always been like sisters, not cousins and the bond is inseparable. Kylee and Jaz pick up right where they left off and I’d give anything to live closer or make that drive regularly to share a cuppa and chat.

Aren’t they the sweetest?

As humans and dog humans?

Cousin love 💕

AI is a little ……. funny and strange. 🤪I’m here for it!

Then it was Friday, biopsy day. I took off my dog suit, and dressed in my dignity gown and got myself an egg sandwich and an itty bitty orange juice and headed over to the hospital. The technician and Dr. Tai were awesome! I love how kind, compassionate and trauma informed the staff are at Erie Shores.

I also find this sort of appointment hard, and I realized why in my session Monday with Craig. Before cancer, I might’ve been uncomfortable with the cold gel, or the biopsy “gun” or being exposed. But, after all I’ve been through it seems like nothing. It’s not their fault, they’re probably used to people noticing the cold, or the discomfort. They apologize like professional Canadians every move they make. I found the apologies kind, AND mildly irritating. As I stumbled into this in session while running the incident of going septic last summer I began getting cold. Like actual cold, bone chilling cold. As my body shook, reaching for covers and warmth I recalled the fever in bed before going in the ambulance. I was freezing. I recalled the warm sun as they loaded me into the ambulance, and then freezing again. I remembered begging for blankets and being told no. I remembered nurse Tara in the grey cardigan with her warm wipes after I threw up in the ICU. I recalled the x-ray tech letting me have a warm blanket and giving me a choice on which half of my body, telling me “I can only let this happen a few minutes then I’ll have to take it from you”. I know cold. And ultrasound gel isn’t it. That near death adventure I took, that was cold . I felt so cared for and heard with nurse Tara and the X-ray tech because even with tanked blood pressure and in septic shock I still had needs. If they would’ve said: “do you want to be warm or us save your life?” I’d have picked warmth. When I was warm I felt peace, when I was cold I felt tortured. I get it, they were doing their job. My body hates being cold and I’ll do anything to avoid it. Re-experiencing that trauma helped me as it always does. I have so much compassion for the nurses, doctors and technicians trying to do a job on bodies and humans they know nothing about. We aren’t just “a case of septic shock” or “a case of appendicitis” we are humans, complex and fascinating layers of experiences they know nothing about.

As my session came to an end I laughed at myself, which is always a good sign my end point has arrived. I said “you know what I’m kind of like?” thankful that Craig isn’t trained to answer that and say “yes, you’re kind of like insanity, only worse” …. I’d take it as a compliment, but it wouldn’t ever happen 🤪.

I’m kind of like ordering a combination plate at a Lebanese restaurant and getting some Lebanese food, a random vegan taco and a pile of spaghetti.

-Amie Elias 2025 ©️

I don’t know what you’re choosing to pack in your bag, but if your bag is heavy I expand that you’ll choose some inner work. If your bag has a random sock, a half eaten protein bar or some left overs from last week and a mason jar filled with dog treats, you’re my kind of people! Life is super short, so may you always live it fully and be surrounded by love!

xoxox ~Amie