The Plan

The Plan was to move to Saskatchewan for five years, so our kids could go to school while playing great hockey, and we could catch up financially, possibly even get ahead. We could rent our house out here, pay off our mortgage, and have a “grand adventure” of experiencing what winter really feels like.

The two months following our decision to implement The Plan were possibly the most excited I’ve ever felt about anything. It was like planning my wedding all over again. I did all kinds of research on jobs, housing, hockey, school, vehicles, banks, dentists, etc… I even had a recommendation for a great hairdresser in Regina.

The mobile mammogram clinic, at the time, felt like just another piece of the puzzle dropping into place. Oh that would be a good thing to do before I go! Another box checked!

Breast cancer was the farthest thing from my mind, and certainly not part of The Plan.

We tried for quite a while to continue on with The Plan as though it was still going to be possible. I interviewed for the perfect position two weeks after surgery. We purged and decluttered a billion things during my recovery. My research turned to doctors and hospitals, protocols, travel times. It wasn’t until I got my pathology back of the Her2+, and the treatment timeline went from two months to 18 months did we have to sit down and give up on The Plan. My heart broke.

In the meantime, we had committed Aidan to Notre Dame. We went from paying off the mortgage to having to creatively find ways to pay for his education there on TOP of living in the most expensive place on earth. My paycheque was docked $400 a month. Instead of fixing our deck, we renovated and made rooms for two extra international students. We’re billeting a hockey player. It makes for fun times with lots of laughter and activity, but it’s not The Plan.

I have led a pretty charmed life. I have a history of being able to put it out there and attracting what I want in life. Everything for The Plan was falling together so perfectly. This is the first time when I’ve felt like the rug was ripped out from underneath me.

I know, I know, you’ll all have some sort of comeback about “well think of the positive – you don’t have to move to Saskatchewan!” or “Obviously The Plan wasn’t the Master Plan” or “Aren’t you lucky you went for that mammogram when you did!” Some of you may even say “there’s still time – maybe you can go next year!” Maybe.

I don’t want to hear those things right now. I know them all. I’ve thought them all. I’ve heard them all. And I appreciate them all. But I’m still mourning The Plan. Because it was the perfect plan.