Home. Again. ❤️

Five days of chemo. Five days back in the hospital. And now I’m home.

There is something completely different about walking back into your own house after chemo. Your bed. Your coffee. Your kids. The dogs. The normal mess of life that suddenly feels like the greatest luxury in the world.

This round was different. Shorter hospital stay, but another reminder that my life right now is measured in blood counts, medications, appointments, side effects and the constant question of what comes next.

For now, though, I get to be home.

And apparently cancer continues to come with surprises I didn't anticipate.

While I was in the hospital receiving chemotherapy for leukemia, one of my personal professional contacts received this email from my previous business partner:

“I am writing to let you know that Dr. Bosiack has some health issues. If she has not contacted you yet to cancel the OFA Eye Clinic at your show on Saturday 10/31 you should expect that.

If you would still like to run the clinic, I should be available but will need to know soon. Let me know if you want to have me do the clinic and I will get the details for the Premium to you.”

To be clear: this man had not contacted me prior to writing this email.

He did not know what arrangements I had made for the clinic. He did not ask whether I needed help. And MOST importantly, I had not given him permission to share information about my health with my business contacts.

Instead, without my consent, he informed her that I had “health issues,” told her to expect me to cancel, and then offered his own services to take my place.

For the record, I do have to cancel the clinic. I am fighting leukemia. But I had already arranged for another veterinary ophthalmologist to cover it.

And yes, this is the same ex business partner who previously shared one of my personal emails with my ex-husband, something that created an entirely different set of problems in an already difficult situation.

There is a much, much longer story here.

In fact, there will eventually be an entire chapter about it in my book.

But that chapter will come.

Today isn't about him.

I thought I had developed a pretty comprehensive list of the indignities that come with cancer.

Losing my hair? Check.

Spending days in a hospital room attached to an IV pole? Check.

Having other people raise my children while I leave the state for months for a stem cell transplant? Coming soon.

Apparently I needed to add:

Having someone use the disruption caused by your cancer as an opportunity to insert himself into your professional relationships and capitalize on cancer.

I’m sharing his email exactly as it was written because I don't need to tell anyone what to think about it. His words can stand on their own.

And then I’m going back to what actually deserves my energy.

I am home.

I am with my kids.

I made it through another five days of chemo.

And today, that is more than enough. ❤️