Rock Fever

Rock Fever: the hemmed in, claustrophobic feeling you occasionally experience when you live on an island

Here are 10 signs of "Rock Fever." I am not a licensed Psychologist, so please refrain from using this list as a form for diagnosis; however, if you are experiencing any of the following, it may be time to briefly leave the island on which you currently live. It's Ok. Part of the process of loving where you live is being able to identify that occasionally you need to take a break to gain perspective. The following may or may not be based on real life experiences. You decide.

1) You're talking to chickens - specifically, you are criticizing the chickens' parenting habits: "C'mon Hen, are you seriously walking your babies out in the middle of traffic??? Be a better Mom!"

2) When you ask your students about recent trips to Miami, you begin to tingle with excitement as the student speaks of malls and famous food chains: "Ok, Jevonte, we'll start speech therapy in a minute. Tell me about the mall again... Did you see a store called Express in that mall? Tell me... what colours are in for Fall? Did you see scarves? How about tall leather boots? See those?

3) Your entire day revolves around the cruise ship schedule. The cruise ship tourists are preventing you from living your life to the fullest: "Cocktails at Bar Crudo today? Oh, I'd love to but there's actually 5 cruise ships in port. I'd prefer to do cocktails on Monday when there are only 2 ships in port."

4) You deem a meeting a "success" when one out of four people attend and arrives less than 30 minutes late.

5) You create your own offensive Xmas coffee cup and fill it with your crappy packaged vanilla latte so that you can feel closer to Starbucks.

6) You bring a friend to the Pharmacy for back-up when you go to pick up your prescription: "Ok, buddy, I usually lose my cool after the second hour of waiting for my prescription. You got my back?"

7) You don't even blink an eye when your student tells you that he ate Iguana for dinner last night. In fact, you ask what it tastes like (chicken, obviously), and consider adding it to your weekly menu.

8) When someone tags you in a Facebook photo, you carefully examine the picture and wonder who the blonde Jamaican is in the photo. Upon realizing that the blonde Jamaican is actually you, and your tan resembles the colour of the tangerine rum punch in you hand, you vow to spend the next week in the shade.

9) You've become obsessed with a section of the grocery store called "Day Olds." This is a special place where you can occasionally score $8 CI brownies for $2 CI. You celebrate moments like this by texting all your friends about your sweet pick-up and calculating your amazing savings ("That's only 50 cents per brownie! Boom!")

10) When the power goes out for the second night in a row, you lay in your very hot room pondering hairstyles for work that won't require an electronic appliance in the morning and praying for a "power outage day" (that's like a "snow day" in Canada).

The stealthy Cayman chicken: She waits for you to go snorkelling and then steals your chips

Just walk it off, Derrek, walk it off

I have this awesome friend named *Derrek (*all names have been changed to protect identity of individuals). Derrek is fun. Derrek is kind. Derrek is dependable. Derrek is a really loyal, awesome friend. Derrek is one of my favourite people in the entire world.  Derrek is also an aggressive vacationer.

By aggressive, I mean that Derrek takes all vacationing activities to the next level. He is not content with seeing sharks behind a glass…he wants to swim with the sharks - and touch them. Derrek doesn't want to buy the coconuts from the roadside stands, he wants to climb a tree and get his own coconuts. The beauty of travelling with Derrek is that you will never be bored. Ever. Derrek will entertain you with his shenanigans. There is; however, a downside - Derrek has a tendency to hurt himself whilst aggressively vacationing.

Take for example, the Cozumel blowhole incident of 2010. Derrek saw some blowholes. They interested him. While we all stood back to watch the blowholes from a safe distance, Derrek insisted on putting his face directly on top of the blowhole to get a much better vantage of what was about it to happen. Yelling, "Don't worry, I timed it!" we managed to get the camera out to capture this moment that will forever be a memory of that powerful blowhole.

Cue deviated septum.

We laughed as Derrek complained about the saltwater in his sinuses and his painful nasal passage for the rest of the holiday. We all felt slightly guilty for laughing when we returned home only to discover that Derrek required nose surgery for a deviated septum. Oops. Sorry Derrek!

Typically Derrek brings about his injuries whilst vacationing aggressively. This time; however, we can't really blame Derrek for what occurred. He was vacationing at a fairly calm level. Derrek and his fabulous wife had just arrived from Canada. We hopped on a tiny little plane and flew to Little Cayman for a long weekend of diving.

The dives were beautiful - and "normal," in the sense that no one went any deeper than they were supposed to, we all did a safety stop, and everyone was fine when the boat took us back to our rental house.

A few hours after our dives, Derrek began complaining of vertigo. Vertigo is a common problem for Derrek, so we handed him a Caybrew, told him to jump in the pool, and all would be well.

Derrek just wasn't feeling better. Typically the life of the party, Derrek was lethargic, barely sipping his beer and quietly sunning himself by the pool.

"Hey Kirstie, my arms are kinda numb."

"Um, hmmm. That kinda sounds like the bends, buddy."

We discussed this new symptom and Derrek deduced that there was no way he could have decompression sickness, given the depth that we dived and our safety stop time.

"You know what…I think my circulation is just poor. I'm gonna walk this off."

Famous last words. A word to the wise: If you have the bends, you can't just "walk it off."

Within 4 hours, we were all being emergency airlifted back to Grand Cayman so that Derrek could spend some quality time in the hyperbaric chamber. Poor Derrek was on tons of oxygen, IV in arm, laying on a gurney, feeling his limbs get tinglier by the minute. The rest of us were trying not to freak out, as our little plane was flying 500 ft over the ocean (Given that we had all just dived, we were all at risk of decompression sickness if we flew at a higher altitude. Plus, Derrek could have gotten much sicker).

Thankfully, Derrek only required about 3 hours in a very hot claustrophobic hyperbaric chamber before all the numbness, tingling, and nausea was gone. Within 24 hours, he was in tip top shape again, aggressively attempting to catch sting rays with his bare hands, whilst vacationing aggressively. Haha.

I must say, although our diving trip on Little Cayman was cut short, we all experienced quite the adventure, courtesy of our friend Derrek. We were all just so relieved that it had a happy ending. The dive Doctor explained that there are many factors that can contribute to the acquisition of decompression sickness. Derrek may have simply been dehydrated prior to our early morning dives. He did not, surprisingly, dive aggressively. It could have happened to anyone.

Moral of the story: vacation aggressively at your own risk. Sometimes the bends happens. You can't walk it off.

Love you, Derrek!

Palm Trees and Pumpkin Pie

Sometimes I get a little bit homesick.

It's not that I don't love our life on the island.

It's not that I want to move back to Saskatchewan.

It's just that now that I've been living here for over a year, I'm beginning to notice that certain times of the year pique a twinge of homesickness in my heart.

The other day, I went to fill out a check and I had absolutely no idea what month it was. As the bank teller watched me fiddle with my pen, wracking my brain for a month, (any month!) I scoured my environment: palm trees out the window, people dressed in shorts and tank tops, A/C cranked in the cool building. Shit. It could have been January. It could have been August. For about 60 seconds, I had no freakin' clue what season I was even dealing with! Other than American television urging me to find my perfect Halloween costume and the fact that the pool temperature has decreased from 92 to 83 degrees, there are absolutely no cues that orient one to time on this island.

Facebook tells me that it's Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. Although I was never a super Thanksgiving holiday fan, I find myself longing for a cool fall breeze, a scarf around my neck, and a pumpkin spiced latte in my hands. It makes me miss my family. I know they will be gathering on Sunday for turkey, Baba's perogies, and pumpkin pie, and yes, it makes me feel sad to know that I won't be there….but then the romantic version of Thanksgiving that I've created in my brain fades and I recall the feeling of dread that I always experienced around Thanksgiving - knowing that winter was on the way.

Pumpkin spiced latte and Kahlua on ice - Genius?

It's no Baba's perogies, but it does taste like Thanksgiving in a glass. 

My mom traveled back to Canada today. We had such an amazing time together. It flew by and I miss her already. When Mom planned this trip in July, she anticipated that I would still be in a lot of pain from my knee surgery. Her intent was to come down and help out around the house, thinking that I may still be immobile only 4 months post surgery. I was so excited for her to arrive and see that I don't need help anymore. My knees are doing awesome! I'm working full time, doing my physio exercises regularly, weaning off of the knee braces, and am almost completely off of the painkillers - whoohoo! So instead of coming to the island to act as reinforcement, she was able to spend the entire time touring, beaching, lunching, and spending quality fun mother-daughter time with me! I've told my Mom numerous times how grateful I am for all of her support during all of my surgeries, but it was so awesome to show her by treating her to a fabulous few weeks on Cayman. I realize how lucky I am to have such a great relationship with my Mom and I'm so proud when people comment about how similar we are! Mom and I both classify raw cake mix in a bowl as a legitimate and tasty bedtime snack, we speak about celebrities like they are our close friends, ("That's so sad about Miranda and Blake. I saw him on The Voice the other day and he looks like he's doing well"),  and we both appreciate the art of people watching and conjuring up creative stories, ("Check out that couple. She must be introducing him to her parents for the first time. You can tell that her Dad's not impressed.") We really do have fun together and I just genuinely enjoy my Mom's company.

So this Thanksgiving weekend, I am incredibly thankful for my Mom. I miss you already, Mom, but now we have so many awesome memories to replace some of the crappy ones (ummm... Let's toss out that memory of that one time when I stole all of your vodka and replaced it with water. TIP: Parents, freeze your vodka. Duh).

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in Canadia (haha). Throw on a scarf and have a piece of pumpkin pie for me!

Sunset wine!

East End lunch!

Bar Bites at Camana Bay!

Marriott live music sunset!

Spott's Beach!

Catamaran to Rum Point BBQ!

Swimming at Seven Mile Beach!

Ev can't keep up. 

Soon Come

My co-workers are awesome people. They're all very brave. They've said goodbye to family, friends, stepped out of their comfort zones, and moved far away to be here. Many accepted their job without knowing a soul on the island, arriving with no car, no home, and no support system - simply a 5 night hotel voucher at Sunshine Suites. My co-workers come in many colours - they come from all over the world! - Jamaica, Barbados, Ireland, England, Mexico, Canada, and the US. They all come with varying religious beliefs, political views, morals and values. They embrace adventure and excitement. They reminisce about their "old" life and support each other through bouts of homesickness.

In one year of working in my office, I've learned about Georgi-Ann's family time - stargazing in their oceanfront backyard in Barbados. I've learned that Stephanie's grandparents immigrated to Jamaica from India. I've learned that Monty misses combining Milo on his family farm in Colorado. I've learned that Joan thinks the world of her two sons and really misses her son who is still living the UK. I've learned all about the "rules" of dating Caribbean men from Denise (FYI: complicated. Think I'll stick with my Canadian boy). We've celebrated successful weeks overlooking the sea, sipping a cocktail at Friday happy hour. We've lamented over tough case conferences with chocolates on our office couch at coffee break. We've all introduced our family and friends to each other when they come on island to visit. These are the people who helped me create my "worry box" when they saw that I was stressed out about my surgeries. (A worry box is little red box where I can store my worries, by the way - I'm pretty sure it's a psych tool used when working children with anxiety disorders, but whatevs. It works!). This is a unique workplace. Something happens when you bring together such a diverse group of people who all moved away and made so many sacrifices to be where they are - you become attached. Fast.

This week was tough. We said farewell - good luck - bon voyage to one of our best, Stephanie. Stephanie is an Educational Psychologist and has been here for 2 years. She decided to move on to her next adventure and do her Post-doc in Minneapolis this Fall (I know, I warned her…It's chilly. Well,  let's be honest, Minneapolis is almost Saskatchewan cold!)  Stephanie hails from Jamaica and is smart, witty, hard-working, and thoughtful. She's very beautiful and we lovingly refer to her as "Jamaican Barbie." Stephanie taught me that "buddy" means "penis" in Jamaican (The horror of realizing that I've been calling my  students "buddy" for 8 months - remember when I introduced "buddy week"?? - "Hey kids, grab your buddy and bring him to speech today!" ACK!!!). Stephanie taught me that "Soon come" means, "be back soon" (or..."I'm skipping out of work early and I will not see you again today," depending on who is saying it. Haha),  and she taught me that Jamaican Bulla (ginger flavoured heavy carb) settles any stomach.

I've only known Stephanie for a year, yet she was such an integral part of my recovery this summer. When I was at my lowest, feeling sick, useless and sorry for myself, she sent a package containing all my favourite Caribbean treats, along with a note telling me how much I was missed at the office and encouraging me to hurry up and get well because they needed me back! It completely lifted my spirits and pushed me to keep going, at a time I wasn't sure I even wanted to.  It reminded me that I would and could actually get through this. Thanks, buddy friend. That was awesome. It's super cool when someone whom you've just recently met "gets" you and impacts your life in such a short period of time. I'm a firm believer that people come in and out of your life at specific times for a reason. Stephanie was one of my "people."

So although one of the perks of working and living here is meeting so many interesting, diverse people, the downside is all the goodbyes. Cayman is a transient location. People are constantly coming in and heading out. I went to buy a "farewell, good luck" card from the card shop today and they were completely sold out. Coincidence? Most employees here are on 2 year work permits. Upon meeting someone, the conversation typically goes like this, "How long have you been here? So when are you leaving?"

Evan and I discussed this oddity:

"Ev, it's so weird, people are always asking, 'How long will you stay? When are you moving on?"

"It's just like hockey life,  'When are you moving on? Where will you go next?"

Wow. It is. It bears an uncanny resemblance to my previous life as a "hockey wife." Obviously I'm attracted to this transient lifestyle for some reason. I guess I'm drawn to the excitement - the highs and lows of trying something brand new - meeting and learning from such diverse, interesting, adventurous people and then saying goodbye - well goodbye for now anyway. Good luck, Steph. Buy a toque and some Sorels, buddy. Soon come.

Since this pic was taken, we lost Kevin, Raven, and Steph. We miss you guys!!

My birthday

Steph always looks much more poised in pics than me. Perhaps it's because she's sober. 

Home Sweet Home…for now :)

We bought a house!

Well, a condo, to be exact. We purchased the condo that we've been renting for over a year now.
The paint is wearing off and is an uninspiring sandy oatmeal colour. You know, like if someone put sand on your oatmeal.
The dated vertical blinds are falling haphazardly from the valance.
One of the ceiling fans works periodically. When it does work, it wobbles.
The countertop is a faded lilac/mauvy colour and is pulling away from the walls.
The light fixtures scream, "the 90's rocked, dude!"

It needs some work.

But…

If you sit on the toilet, open the bathroom door, and look straight ahead, you can see the Caribbean Sea! You might even see a passing cruise ship. Wave! I kid you not.

SOLD!

Ev and I have worked hard, took some risks, and made some difficult decisions in order to to buy, build, and sell a handful of properties over the years. Our intention was usually to make a profit. Rarely have we built a house with the intent of living in it forever (forever is so so long). So I've always lived by the mantra: never form an emotional connection with your house. Do not, I repeat, do NOT get attached to a property. It's just a property. But…I have felt a little sad when our houses have sold, and I cherish the memories we made in each house. I mourn the loss of those dinners on the beautiful granite countertops, baths in the luxurious jetted tub, and parties at the wicked awesome basement bar. But it was always just a house. I'm gonna be honest with you right now, I LOVE this condo in Grand Cayman. LOVE it. That's an emotion, right? Damn. Yes, this condo needs some TLC, and I'm looking forward to some minor renovations, but after living in this condo for a year, I have formed…ugh…an emotional attachment. Boo, Kirstie, Boo!

Here is why:

1) The pool: our complex has one of the largest pools on the island. I usually spend about 3-4 evenings a week physio-ing, floating, or sipping a cocktail around the pool. It's about 10 feet away from the ocean, so when you lie on your back, you can hear the waves crashing. A beautiful barbecue area sits next to it so Ev can grill a steak while I float. It's pure bliss. Often, I'm the only one actually in the pool, so as I lie on my back, listening to the waves crash, inhaling the scent of BBQ, I imagine that I am Beyonce, casually swimming in my private seaside pool. "Jay Z, where's my cocktail?"

2) The patio: We are located on the ground floor and look directly out at the pool and the sea. To the right of our patio is a honeysuckle flower. When I was a kid, there was a picture of a honeysuckle in our bathroom. I often thought that honeysuckle was beautiful and wondered where one would find such a flower - and now I see it everyday! Tiny birds drink from that flower, so Biloxi can sit, stalk and  chatter away with excitement for hours. Biloxi has also started sunning himself on the patio, on his back, legs high in the air. Now that's relaxation. While Biloxi shamelessly flaunts all of his kitty parts, Evan and I enjoy spending our early evenings on the patio, listening to the palm trees rustle in the breeze, sipping a rum punch, and watching the sun go down. Ahhhh….my patio.

Biloxi! Have you no shame?

His and hers seating

Best spot to drink my morning tea

3) The people: We have lovely, interesting neighbours. Above and over from our unit is a couple from Italy. They have a dog named "Bella." When Bella barks, Michele, the tall, smiling Italian man says, "Bella!" in his thick Italian accent. I love it! My Canadian friend, Brenda, lives in the building next to us. It's so nice to walk over to her place for a chat or meet at the pool for a BBQ. Every evening, a British dad and his little girl go for a swim in the pool. I've watched this little girl grow from baby to a smart little person over the course of a year. The interaction between the little girl and her dad is priceless. I think it is awesome how this little girl will always have the memory of swimming with her dad at sunset each night. They swim, play, and discuss what they will have for dinner. The British accent makes any child's language, in my opinion, sound very advanced and mature, "Daddy, shall we have chippies with our sausage?"Haha.

4) The Path: a perfect little path runs around the complex - weaving in and out around the pool and the buildings, with a view of the ocean. It's an ideal distance to take Dundee for a 10 minute walk every morning. I love that little walk and it serves to "regulate" me before I get ready for my work day.

morning walk with my pooch

This path leads down to a shore dive site - throw on your equipment and go for a dive!

5) Location: Our condo is located in West Bay. When we first moved to the island, a few people advised us to avoid West Bay. It has a reputation for being a little "rough." There definitely are some areas of West Bay that I would not want to wander around at night, but overall, it's nothing different than what one sees in a lower socioeconomic area in any city. There are definitely some West Bay characters who are regularly swerving the streets on their bike, beer in hand  beers in hands, but you know, it gives the neighbourhood some flavour.  Many areas of West Bay are beautiful, with homes overlooking the ocean - our street included. I also love that we can get to seven mile beach in about 7 minutes (coincidence?) and we are rarely stuck in traffic, as we're usually going against the rush hour madness (there is actually rush hour madness here, for reals). I love our location, and I feel like it's a secret spot on the island that many islanders don't even know exists.

seven mile beach - 7 minutes away!

*I asked Ev what his favourite thing was about our condo and his response was, "The landscapers. I never have to mow the lawn again." OK. Typical boy response.

Yep, this condo makes my heart  happy. I don't know if it's our "forever" home. I doubt it. We'll move again, I'm pretty sure. But in the meantime, it definitely feels right, and I can't wait to start putting my stamp on it.

PS: Does, "We need thousands of dollars wired to our Cayman Islands account ASAP!" sound suspicious? Ya, It's not so easy to purchase a property here when your money is in Canada. Ev's been dealing with both our Canadian and Cayman bank for weeks to ensure the funds were wired from our Canadian account into our Cayman bank account. Overall, from the day we requested the wire from our Canadian bank until the day that we could it access it was an 8 day process. 8 freakin' days! I was positive that our money was being held hostage - I was just waiting for the ransom note. In the movies, wiring is instantaneous, no? It's not like some man is coming on a boat with a sack full of our money and we need to wait for him to clear customs. Ev says this was a "lesson in fortitude" for me. Fortitude shmortitude. Show me the money!

"Is that a tasmanian devil?" "No, sir, that's my cat."

Here's an idea for a new reality TV series:

It's called:  "Can you make it  - without hating each other's face?"

Plot: Find a newly dating couple who is fresh, enthusiastic, and "in love." Are they ready for marriage? Let's all watch and find out!

Give them a 22 pound cat and a 25 pound dog to carry in little boxes. Give them 4 overweight suitcases packed full of Tim Horton's tea leaves, which will eventually spill all over their clothing. Injure one individual in the couple - let's say, for example, a little knee injury.

Challenge: Fly as passengers on American Airlines from 5am until 9pm. Give the couple two very tight connections in Toronto and Miami. Ensure the customs line in Toronto is out the door. Cue a scene where one member of couple is running to the gate with cat and dog in hands, belt dangling around neck (no time to re-clothe after security!), whilst pushing other member of couple in a wheel chair, who is stating, in a frenzy, "Our flight is boarding NOW!"

Do not let the couple eat anything during the entire journey. Cue a temper tantrum by the angry cat in Miami. Ensure that the cat is making very loud, distracting and tortuous noises that cause the other airport passengers to glare in disbelief. In Miami, create a "couple challenge" for dramatic effect. For example, when one member of the couple takes the dog to the airport doggie park to pee, ensure security will not let the dog and the individual back into the airport, inaccurately stating that the dog's plane ticket has not been paid in full.

Cue scene where there is frantic texting between the couple,

"What can I do to help? I'm in the boarding area with the cat. He is freaking out. He just tried to escape out of his box. My knee won't make it all the way to security with this spazzing cat!"

"Take a picture of the receipt and text it to me."

"My phone is going to die soon."

"They are insisting that I pay $250!"

"I can't find the receipt. There are 50 pages of paperwork here, but no receipt! Our plane boards in 10 minutes!"

"K. I will pay and meet you on plane."

"Good luck. My phone is at 3% Shit! The cat just escaped."

Once the couple and the pets safely board the plane, wallets empty from paying off security, cue a mechanical issue with the airplane, causing the plane to sit motionless on the tarmac for at least an hour. Cue crying child in seat behind the couple. Cue frantic barking by dog in little box.

There. Can the couple make it through these tortuous 15 hours with no sleep, no food, and only their friendship and love for each other to keep them sane? If the couple survives without hating each other's face, cue an instant wedding - they will be fine. If not, sayonara - you are not cut out for marriage. Better luck next time.

PS: Evan and I made it back to our little paradise. Dundee and Biloxi, although tattered and emotionally scarred, are doing fine. Evan and I still love each other - heck, we even LIKE each other! The knees are holding up very well, and Evan is back to sweating profusely each and every time he so much as lifts his baby finger. I started back at work and, man, was it ever awesome to see so many smiling faces and dish out "hello hugs" after a few months away. I forgot just how beautiful (and HOT!) this sweet little island really is. I've already taken out one suicidal chicken with our car and shamelessly used my knee brace to narrowly escape a ticket, "Sir, I know my car registration is overdue but look, I just had knee surgery," (hiking up skirt to reveal horrid brace). Haha!

Although my heart still hurts from so many goodbyes, I feel pretty good. Life is good.

Cheers

Biloxi: BEFORE - Angry

Biloxi: AFTER - blissful

Dundee: BEFORE - petrified

Dundee: AFTER - elated

Knees: BEFORE - confined

Knees: AFTER: free!

First morning tea on the beach - thank goodness some of the Timmy's survived the trip!

Ev and Dundee on a sunset stroll

I'm not crying, my eyes are just really watery this week

I'm not much of a public crier. I mean, no one really wants to cry in public, but it happens. I didn't cry at my graduation. I didn't cry at my wedding. I seldom cry at funerals. Babies do not bring tears to my eyes, nor do cute little puppies. It's not that I'm a stone cold heartless woman, it's just that I prefer to do my crying in private. Typically, I give myself a day. One day. I might just sit in the bathroom and let it all out. All the tears that I've bottled up over the course of a few weeks, or maybe a few months are given permission to flow freely. Once my time clock runs out, it's done. The crying is over. There. Better. This was always my preferred method of dealing with my feeling(s). Since "knee-gate" in 2012; however, things have changed. I'm not exactly sure why, but it all began when Dr. M explained my diagnosis and prognosis to me in his office one day, over 3 years ago. The floodgates opened, I ugly cried years of salty tears all over his lovely desk, as he desperately searched for kleenex, and I've never been the same since (and Dr. M will never forget to equip his desk with kleenex). And it's getting worse. With each passing year, and the experience of additional surgeries and continuous goodbyes, I'm morphing into this soft, mushy, sentimental, touchy-feely kinda person. Icky.

As we pack our things and say good-bye (for now), I have been kinda an emotional mess. Mother Nature has also timed things perfectly, ensuring that my estrogen levels are at an all time low in order to sabotage my ability to handle things in a rational manner. Screw you, Mother Nature, and your "lady cycle."

These are things that have made me cry in the last few days:

1) Sarah McLachlan: "I will remember you" has played on Songza numerous times while I have been driving. Are you kidding me, Songza? Is this playlist specifically created for: "Stabbing yourself with your keys while you're driving"?  I snivelled away as she sang, "Weep not for the memories." Sarah McLachlan, you, your sappy music, and your sad puppy infomercials are evil (but quite touching as well - keep up the good work).

2) Dr. M's office: To be fair, I'm 99.9% confident that there is tear gas leaking through the vents in that office. Is it a coincidence that my eyes have watered uncontrollably in over half of my appointments in that place? I think not. I'm quite certain that the nerves in my lacrimal glands were stimulated by a chemical weapon, resulting in tears. There's no way that I'm THAT emotional, c'mon! Sorry, Dr. M. I suck. :)

3) Doggie Goodbyes: Yesterday Dundee, our little white Coton de Tulear, had to say goodbye to his best bud, Carter, a 100 lb brown Pit bull. As I attempted to assist in their goodbye, ("Dundee, say goodbye to your buddy. You'll see him next summer"), my eyes welled up with tears and I exclaimed, "Evan, this is so sad! Their faces are just so sad!" to which Ev replied, "Their faces always look like that. They are expressionless, Kirstie!" Ugh. Heartbreaking. I feel personally responsible for ripping apart this deep doggie friendship. (FYI: The dogs suck at Skyping. Dundee can see Carter, but Carter can't see Dundee. Dundee cries and Carter runs to every window looking for Dundee. Incredibly painful to watch. Sigh).

Is this their "sad" face or their "happy" face? Who knows. 

4) Evan asking, "Are you OK?": After 19 years as best buddies, Ev's ability to detect a looming Kirstie breakdown is pretty darn accurate. As Evan and I discussed the list of "to-do's" before departure, I believed that I was  presenting myself as stable and self-assured.  Evan suddenly interrupted me with, "Are you OK, Kirst?" Dammit. Ummmm. Well…."NOOOOOOO!" Ugh. Cue the tears. Cue the Evan hug. Seriously, Kirstie, pull yourself together, girl!

So anyway, I'm not too proud to admit that I'm pretty sucky this week, but it is for good reason. Yes, I will very much miss my friends and family, and the life that we love and live during our summers at Candle Lake. But we will be back again next summer, my friends and family will visit if they can, and life will carry on. I'm also looking forward to returning back to our "other" life on the island. I'm feeling much better and ready to get back to work and our regular island routine. How lucky are we to have two worlds with wonderful people supporting us in both! I think my emotions become stirred when I reflect back on the last 8 months - the most difficult 8 months that Evan and I have endured in our 19 years together, and I realize just how much our friends and family love us. They stepped up, took control,  and cared for us when we were unable and too exhausted to do it on our own. I was at a point where I couldn't give anything back, yet my friends and family persisted, cheering me on,  offering support, loving and caring for me unconditionally. It's amazing how one text, one phone call, one visit, brightened some of my darkest days. We have an incredible team of peops who love us to the end of the Earth, and that makes me bawl like a baby with gratitude. (Cue Sarah's "...Weep not for the memories.")

Cheers friends! Look out Cayman, the Lindsays are comin' for you on Friday!

PS: After extensive drug-testing, intense interrogation, and comprehensive criminal record checks, the animals have clearance to cross the Cayman border! whoohoo! (Luckily Biloxi's "Heathrow catnip misunderstanding of 2003" has been forgiven) hehe :)