jfleurcannon

[jfleurcannon]

passageway, photo by john domont

one year ago my life changed. i woke up from my hysterectomy surgery and i could breathe, fully. i could feel the difference and i hadn't even moved yet.

this journey of pain and coping caused the end to many things in my life, friendships, my marriage, my ability to mask it when it became too much, but mostly to my self-worth. my pain, which was daily, and intense became a part of me, and my personality. i became mean, impatient, quiet, unlovable, and untouchable.

the man i married understood until he didn't anymore. i ended up having to defend my illness and symptoms. because many people don't understand chronic pain or an illness or illnesses that are chronic and debilitating if you can't see them. you can't see endometriosis or adenomyosis or fibromyalgia or depression. you can feel them, but you can't see them on the outside. as a result of feeling like ass 90% of the time i became a pro at hiding it, like a mask, by wearing makeup, doing my hair, and not always wearing pj's.

people would say, 'you look great, you must be feeling better'. i realized by hiding how i was feeling everyone thought i was ok, because of makeup and hair. i did that to make everyone else feel better about my situation, or so i would be asked less questions. or so maybe, just maybe, someone would ask how I was? and not how my illness was treating me. this role lost its magic real quick when it became exhausting to pretend. or i would forget that i had mascara on and cry and realize i made the mistake of not putting on waterproof, like a fucking rookie. this wasn't my first masked rodeo. i knew better, always wear waterproof.

i always knew that a hysterectomy was my body's end game. get rid of the organs and tissue that have caused me so much pain and loss. the endless surgeries, probing, prodding, inappropriate comments by doctors or their staff, medications and interventions, and none of those things actually helped. they never made it go away. the only thing that would do that was to take all of it out. but having this surgery, i knew to be both a blessing and an emotional rollercoaster to comprehend.

on february 15th, 2019 i said goodbye to my uterus, tubes, and cervix. we kept my ovaries intact so i wouldn't leap into menopause early. my brilliant surgeon (the one with the 'small hands') gave me my life back. i will forever be grateful for the care i was given during that operation. i will not miss waiting rooms, stirrups, speculum exams, doctors making jokes about their small hands, or some other horribly insensitive 'joke', i won't miss being told meditation will help, or have i ever thought of going to therapy? i never knew doctors took a comedy program as part of their training. haha. therapy, that's a good one. is that to talk the pain away? that sounds like it would work.

#endometriosis #adenomyosis #fibromyalgia #depression #hysterectomy

[jfleurcannon]

gritty, raw, honest parenting moment while ill with ill child. 😷🤒🤧

[jfleurcannon]

photo transfer on wood

this is one of my favourite crafts and it's honestly so easy. i flubbed my first few attempts, used paper that was too thick, rubbed the image too aggressively in the end stages, didn't rub the paper off enough in other places, etc. but sometimes the flaws are what makes it even more beautiful.

i have done this so many times, on so many different wood objects, but the classic thick wood board can turn into the most perfect moment in time, in such a creative way.

all you will need is;

print an image on regular paper with a laser printer or photocopier, colour images work best but black & whites work too.

an unfinished wood painting panel, board, ornament, as long as it's not treated or with any glaze or varnish.

mod podge or gel medium

paint brush or foam brush

very fine grade sand paper (optional)

clear spray glaze (optional)

patience

i always start by making sure the board surface is free from bits sticking out or any lint or fuzz it might have collected.

apply a generous amount of mod podge or gel medium to the board.

place the picture (image-side down) onto the board and smooth out the image or any air bubbles. i usually let this process dry completely overnight and then do the final steps the next day. insert the patience part here.

using a damp cloth or hand towel i place the entire cloth over the image and soak the top layer and try to peel that off to easier work on what's underneath. you repeat this process until all of the fuzz from the paper is gone, revealing the image. {also, the image will be reversed, so don't freak out!}

when all of the fuzz has been removed and you are happy with what you see, you can lightly sand around the edges to antique your piece a bit more. if not, skip that and you can apply another layer of mod podge or gel medium, and let dry completely. i would give this stage 24 hours to set. if you would prefer, you can spray with the clear glaze instead. i prefer to use a gel medium.

you will love transforming old and new pictures in your home into these crafty works of art. and they are amazing as gifts as well!

#diy #crafts #woodpanel

[jfleurcannon]

the great expectations

words spoken begin to transform into expectations granted and the waiting game ensues. the only time i look forward to things or have expectations in general is based on committing to something. anything, nothing special, even the planning of nothing can still be 'a plan'.

illness is something in the sick one that can't be controlled, nor can rest, or pain, or tolerance, or mood, but words are still spoken and expectations set. disappointment always leads me quiet as a mouse. then the mouse scurries busily cleaning, moving around, burrowing, hiding, anything to not be still. stillness is not what i need.

what do i need?

i need to make a plan. stick to the plan. enjoy the plan. have spontaneous moments without care for time, adventure myself into discovering something new, be brave, get lost behind the lens, but mostly, just be. just breathe. stillness and lack of movement don't help me be better or feel well minded. it isn't 'self care' for me to be sedentary. getting lost in the moment, in a park, on a walk, staring at the sky, not knowing, not thinking, only breathing. only focusing on the air going into my lungs and the bullshit i'm breathing out.

breathe in the good shit, exhale the bullshit. amiright? there is a guided meditation for people who don't give a fuck, and i naturally l.o.v.e it.

https://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2015/07/08/fuck-that-meditation-video_n_7753822.html

enjoy. and remember to be kind always, instead of being a wanker.

[jfleurcannon]

why do i never feel like enough, ever? as a mom, a partner, a sister, a friend, or a daughter? ever. like i miss the mark by just enough to feel like a failure. an all or nothing expectation on myself has turned my hope for the best attitude into not quite enough.

in dark times my thoughts tend to sway towards the worst case scenario mentality. believing the worst will happen or an outcome won't be in my favour, or hurdles and obstacles become too intimidating to manage. i mean, why not add another element of struggle to the mix?

when these things happen i rewind to my worst time. like britney, 2007 was a brutal year for me. sunnybrook was the worst, the F ward was my lowest point.

if britney and i can get through that, we can get through anything, right? she had a painful comeback, as have i. same same. but different.

[jfleurcannon]

ET was the first movie theatre experience i can remember. i was sitting on my sister's lap and was captured by the magic of both this character and the family that took him in. namely gertie, drew is my age and although i was a bit terrified by ET i was also compelled by him. her scream upon seeing him, his face in the closet of toys, him in the wig and jewels, riding in the basket on the bike, that stupid finger, when he and elliott get sick - STOP. that to me was movie making magic and that is when my love of the theatre (both movies and stage productions) began.

the old family cottage had this super wonky tree stump and exposed root situation that looked exactly like ET to me. we also had the VHS copy of the movie up there. my favourite place, the place where i found so much quiet and calm. and had ET to protect me.

[jfleurcannon]

this one hits home. it cuts deep. i don't bleed from the cut but i hurt from it all. the glass case of emotions sparked by these twenty one words.

half the time my son is with his dad. which means, half the time he's not with me he's spending it with his dad, his girlfriend, and her daughter.

half the time another woman consoles him, hugs him, comforts him, tucks him in, makes him lunches, hears about his day, and gets to participate in the silliness that ensues when spending any time with him.

he's magical and loving and i helped make him. but someone else gets him half the time.

i don't know her but from photos and the odd thing the boy tells me about her. i don't know her yet she gets him half the time.

i want to know her because she gets him half the time. i want to share stories with the boy about her, and feel like i know who this woman is. i want to know her but that doesn't mean i want to be her friend.

this co-parenting game is the trickiest of them all because there are no white flags or time outs. there is no one telling you that was a low-blow or a mediator to kid gloves any and all forms of communication.

i don't her know.

yet she gets him half the time.

[jfleurcannon]

conversations with little go a something like this.

#walkout

[jfleurcannon]

from an instagram post five years ago.

#irony

[jfleurcannon]

finding the love in your life starts with you.

[jfleurcannon]

oh fuck. a hysterectomy story.

just so i don't have to go through explaining. please visit links and read up if you are interested, i simplified it AF and wiki'd the source, otherwise, this is legit not the place for you. i talk about things, life, whatnot, and my life is fucking bullshit sometimes.

endometriosis

adenomysosis

fibromyalgia - i'm not even gonna get into this one. because, as the doctor who diagnosed me said, 'not many people believe in this one, so maybe don't say that you have it out loud.' but chalk that guy up for chronic musculoskeletal & joint pain in my wrists, arms, shoulders, back, butt, and knees. but 🤫.

i'm sure y'all know wtf depression and anxiety are, i see those #bellletstalk tags. it's been with me for years, since i guess the chronic pain started. i got my period and wondered why the fuck i was the only one who got sick, like sick. fainting, knocking over a mannequin display at the eddie bauer at fairview mall (you're welcome, sisters), passing out at school and having to be carried out by julie (thank you, sister), missing so many activities and things i wanted to do but couldn't. having 'jenn's always sick anyways' thrown in my face by a childhood friend, being made to feel bad about pain and not wanting to be in the mood, having to cancel plans last minute because of pending pain, side effects from meds i'm taking that make me sick, but not quite as sick as the original problem - so i deal. like i deal with it all. [like a warrior. i have held my pain like the damn death star. my uterus is the death star. except that time i carried and birthed a baby, and then it was fucking AWESOME!] typically it's bottom shelf paper bag internalized. and for years my solution was to therapy it out, or shove the feels down hard so i developed massive GI issues, or maybe that is the endo, who the fuck knows. fast forward years of therapy and a shit ton of medication and three suicide attempts, the final one being in 2007. i was hospitalized for the final attempt at sunnybrook's mental health ward. the F ward, i shit you not. i felt like girl intrurrupted, but there was no winona or angelina. there was a pam and a joan. no padded room, but i couldn't leave to go outside for the first week. that was fucked up.

pain is pain, and although i am a fan of ja-rule, pain has never equaled love to me. it has only left me with an overwhelming hate for parts of my life, that were always plagued by illness, pain, and brewing depressive state. i would get sick for long, long periods of time and there would be no reason for it. had i known then what i had (endo, adeno, fibro, MFGT's) it would have made sense. two of the three are auto-immune diseases. i get a cold, and i really get it. i lose my voice, and it's gone for months.

the only fast thing i've done is labour and delivery. it might seem strange to put the birth of my child in the pain category, however the story will explain why in a mo. i arrived at the hospital at 10am at 2cm dilated, upon exam by a nurse i pushed and my water broke, i was put in a wheelchair and brought to wait for a L&D room, outside the exam room and in the tiny hallway, there my insides tore open, quite literally, nerve damage, and rapid labour. i screamed and screamed and was told to wait while they got things ready. i mean. i thought i was dying. why was this happening so fast? my husband came back up as i was being brought into the room (i think, some details are fuzzy). i was examined by a doctor and was at 10cm. it hadn't been more than 10 minutes since i had arrived. i remember things moving too quickly for me and i was very panicked that something was wrong. i remember being told the boy's heartbeat was becoming compromised and we needed to get him out. options included a C-section, forceps, or the vacuum. all terrified me as i literally was without ANY pain management. we opted for the vacuum and they offered me laughing gas as a super sad knife-in-the-back compromise. i took it, but the hell? AT THAT VERY MOMENT I WANTED THE SWEET, SWEET NECTAR OF THE ALL POWERFUL EPIDURAL! four pushes with the vacuum on and the boy was born, at 10:35am. in 35 minutes i arrived at the hospital had my baby, like whatevs, and held him while being stitched up. naturally there were stitches. i can't even with that pain. OMG. people say you won't remember the labour pain and that 'it'll just go away when you see your perfect baby', you know what? they lied to your face, or they had an epidural, or they didn't experience rapid labour. 2-10 in 5 minutes. they did not teach me that in L&D class. i wanted ice chips, and the tub, and the playlist of music, and maybe a pelvic roll or two on the ball, but no, miles wanted his entrance to be dramatic and fast and it was nothing less than that.

any and all of the things i've battled have stayed with me like wearing a cloak, all day everyday i feel pain, whether it's physical, mental, emotional, or otherwise, i feel it. i can't see it but i fucking feel it. with diagnosis always come the waiting game of endless specialists, tests, interventions by way of oral medication, physical therapy, walking epidurals, suppositories in my ass or vag, chiropractor visits, along with visits to acupuncture, massage, GP, GYNE, and psychologists.

after a thirty year battle, and almost one year of keeping this in my drafts folder, i finally have felt an end to my endometriosis and adenomyosis pain. a hysterectomy and final excision of endo from nerve clusters fused together because of it, i can breathe. i can breathe clearly and without a constant fear of nausea, hot flashes, bizarre mood swings because of the menopausal state the IUD was causing, and chronic pelvic/back/low abdomen/bowel pain. i still have a 44 year old body and permanent nerve damage from rapid labour and negligence from a past surgeon, but holy hot hell it's nice to not want to punch people in the face for asking you how you feel. i know that's not a normal reaction to that question. i get that. however, as someone who has suffered from chronic pain her whole adult life, it is the hardest question to answer honestly. how you feel sometimes is like shit, or crap, or a god damn mess, or you just don't want to talk, especially to that person but you can't say it. so you answer, 'fine', 'great', or 'living the dream'. is the honest answer the best answer? it may not be, but it's the one with the least amount of follow up questions or lengthy conversation to follow. i love things, and flowers, and coffee, and white wine, and my man friend, and my kid, and my family, and a handful of others - but for the most part i would honestly prefer not to talk to anyone about anything. it's all the same conversation anyway. and i'm tired. tired of listening. tired of talking/hearing my own voice. tired of noise. in need of quiet and calm. my one year surgery anniversary is coming up and i'm looking forward to it. i have never looked forward to a post surgery anything because those have always led to more surgeries. but the doctor from brazil with the 'small hands' did the job this time. removed the death star and its accompanying bullshit organs (tubes and cervix) and we are good to go now. she works again, without pain 😉

surgeries for endometriosis & adenomyosis

2006 - laser laparoscopic discovery of endo

2009 - stage IV endo excision via laparoscopy

2015 - laser laparoscopic removal of endo & appendectomy

2016 - endo excision via laparoscopy

2019 - full hysterectomy (minus ovaries) and extensive endo excision on nerve clusters fused together

#hysterectomy #endometriosis #adenomyosis #fibromyalgia #depression #anxiety #rapid labour

[jfleurcannon]

three little birds

pitch by my doorstep

singing sweet songs

of melodies pure and true.

[jfleurcannon]

the reality of parenting sometimes is gritty and ugly and raw. when you're tired or upset or without energy or patience, it doesn't really matter. you know why? because your kid isn't any of those things. your kid just wants to spend time with you and be silly and have fun and not care about the reality of your situation.

at the end of the day i wouldn't change a thing. this kid is magical and loving and funny and smart and really cuddly and terrible at tricks, as shown in whatever he was trying to do in this clip.

these sound bites of my life with miles are the video quilt of our time together. he gets me and i get him and although i want to hug and smother him at the same time, i'll settle for hugs and kisses, endless farts, and 'i love you's'.

[jfleurcannon]

reflecting on the past year and a half. it's been a doozy. a time of major change, learning lessons, growing as a mom and human, being reminded daily that i am not perfect, or without flaws. learning mostly that those 'flaws' are my perfections, and my ability to fucking roll with the punches, and get back up, every time i feel knocked down or defeated.

in the fall of 2017 my husband and i separated, in early 2018 our family dynamic changed when our house became miles and i. i was scared as hell, but my sweet boy and i made it through, together. he helped me see that i am strong and that we can handle anything, together. he asked me to marry him on my birthday last year, and although i explained that would be inappropriate, he still loves me.

with family and littles, my special man friend and girlfriends, this change is so sweet. bring on spring and sunshine, and the gorgeous local flowers, and holding hands, and beautiful stolen moments that i want to freeze in time.

this pain-free life is new, and with it comes an honest regard for the thirty years it took to get here.

[jfleurcannon]

michael rapaport at his best.

‘beautiful girls’ is one of my favourite movies for so many reasons, but mostly its quick witted banter and amazing cast.

there is a scene with michael rapaport and timothy hutton. it is one of my favourite movie scenes of all time. it is demented and fantastic.

enjoy.

“Look. Supermodels are beautiful girls, Will. A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you’ve been drinkin’ Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high: full of the single greatest commodity known to man, promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, and in her soul, and the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it’s gonna be okay. The supermodels, Willy? That’s all they are. Bottled promise. Scenes from a brand new day. Hope dancing in stiletto heels. … A beautiful girl is all-powerful and that is as good as love. That’s as good as love.”

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xDQjJf_tfKY

[jfleurcannon]

how summer 2017 almost broke me.

i’m fucking tired all of the time. part of it is the endo. part is the fibromyalgia. part is that i have a kid and i hear every sound all of the time, day or night. part of it is the medication i take and the varying sedating side effects. but i think, most of all, that looming for quite some time, has been the separation of me and my husband.

i am a wedding florist, and coordinator, which typically includes me meeting with brides, their partners, mothers, friends, bridal party, etc to discuss all of their pinterested ideas and how exciting this time is in their lives. but i hate all of that. weddings. vows. marital bolognes if you will, that lead my emotions to come pouring out of my eyeballs.

i was challenged on many emotional and reactionary levels this season and i blame amy’s mom. a literal conversation with a mother after her daughter’s perfect wedding, all while i was watching another couple wed in order to tear down their ceremony decor and get the balls out of there.

“you've ruined my only daughter's wedding.

thanks for nothing.”

click.

~ mother may i, aug 25th '17.

dear mother of the bride who i never met, fuck you for making me cry. and for making me believe we actually ruined your daughter’s wedding. and mostly, as a mom, for speaking to another human like that. and forget you for adding to the pile of shit i have to carry with me like a cloak.

[jfleurcannon]

salal tip and spray rose perfection.