Rule Britannica, Rule

Okay, so yesterday was rough, but I’m glad I did it. I walked down streets we used to walk down and visited places we used to visit. Most notably, Toronto General Hospital. I don’t know why I had the urge to go there, but I did. I stopped the car in the underground parking where we used to park, turned it off, and started crying. After I got enough of a grip, I went upstairs, ordered a coffee, and sat where I used to sit in the atrium when I would call people to let them know how Joey was doing. That part of the hospital looked very much the same:

 

I cried there too. And shook. No one batted an eye. People there have their own shit going on. I was glad to go unnoticed.

When I felt ready enough to move on, I visited the ground floor. Things there looked very much the same. The Hero Burger where Joey posed for a picture with his surgeons was still in tact, the really nice chicken wing guy is still there, as is the Greek restaurant and manager, as well as, unfortunately, Bento Nouveao Sushi:

 

 

Shudder. I stood across from the Subway where Joey took his first outing off the 7th floor after his lung transplant:

I feel a special affinity for this place. There are a lot of bad memories here, but a lot of good ones too. This is the place we came when Joey didn’t die. Where his life was saved because of his donor and a kick ass medical team. I don’t know why I had to go back, but I did, so I went. I feel better for doing it.

Afterwards, I did some more walking around, ordered Indian food from my favorite delivery place in Toronto, and hung out with Kathryn and Samuel for the rest of the evening. It was an exhausting day, but I needed to do it.

This morning, I left T-Dot bright and early. My first stop was in Pickering, where I met with Doug Dickerson, the Deputy Mayor. We had a good chat about Joey and CF. He dubbed me a “Walking Encyclopedia” about Cystic Fibrosis. Complimentary, but depressing nonetheless. Here we are with his new DVD:

From Pickerton, I moved onto Ottawa. While waiting to see my MP, John Weston, I went on a walk around the outside of the Parliament Buildings:

They are pretty impressive; the sight of them took my breath away. Cystic Fibrosis does that too, in case I haven’t mentioned. Just call me Britannica. And then make a donation to find a cure. Lol…sort of.

My meeting with John went well. He extended my appointment, took the time to listen to what I had to say about CF and organ donation, and attempted to make arrangements with the Minister of Health to meet with me tomorrow. My fingers are crossed that she has time. Just in case, I left her copy of the DVD with my MP, who agreed to deliver it to her for me, along with a note a wrote to her while I was in his office:

 

I am now on my way to visit Karen, Carson, Gage, Arlene, and Allen. How lucky is it that ¾ of the Canmore crew happened to be in Ottawa when I’m here? I’d say pretty freaking lucky. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get going so I can play trains my nephew.

K