Over the summer I still had a lot of shit going on medically, with my irregular heartbeat and the symptoms I had been experiencing, they were still there—some days worse than others and they were tripping me out!

I ended up going to the ER twice that summer, alone. Toronto General Hospital—My Heart Home. I had a great experience while I was there for the 15-day stay, given the circumstances.

They were extremely understanding, kind, and attentive. They were patient with me, and I am NOT the best patient—pretty sure I’m not even a good one!

There was this one nurse who often tended to me during my stay there—she was fucking great. She treated me like a person, a person who was about to go through some shit but didn’t know it yet. When I was getting discharged, she asked me where I lived, and after I told her, she said, “If anything ever goes wrong, you get in an Uber and you come here. This is your Heart Home.” Basically, don’t call an ambulance and end up at fucking Michael Garron.

I was super grateful for everyone who took care of me there, so much so that when I returned to see my cardiologist six weeks post-surgery, I walked over to Krispy Kreme and bought those ladies two dozen doughnuts. I don’t know how many blocks away it was, but it was too many! The doughnuts—a dozen in each hand—felt like bricks! I wasn’t supposed to be doing any of that, but hey, I was in a state, and I wanted them to know I appreciated them. I wrote on the inside across the top of the two boxes: “Thanks for putting up with me—Jaye <3.”

I’ve had multiple surgeries and hospital stays since I was 7 or 8—I lost count years ago—so when I say I am not the best patient, oh, I know exactly how I am under those conditions—a fucking nightmare for anyone! And when I say I had a great experience at TGH—it was top tier and I’ve had more than my fair share of shit hospital experiences!

My surgeon had told me to “live my normal life” cardiologist says I need a “second surgery” even though I was trying to live my normal life that shit never left my head it was fucking with me always.

I started slowing down, still wasn’t sleeping properly but I wasn’t as speedy or sporadic as I had been throughout the summer. There was a shift in gears some time in the fall. I was no longer on any mind altering meds. The medication I was on were all heart related, affecting my body in different ways, not my mind.

After that appointment with the psychiatrist I was just sad, steady sad. I fell into a depression and I was angry—wondering all the time why, why, why, am I still here? Why am I going through all of this just to have to repeat the shit again?! How could something like this even happen in the fucking first place?!

My birthday was coming up in September and even though I was still not in my right mind I wanted to go away—to my favorite beach and by myself. So I booked it!

It had been confirmed that I needed a second surgery—as I was on watch every 4 months and it was that time. Time to do all the tests again to see where were at. After that round—that went on for the next 15 months. It became a thing. Every 4 months I would do the tests—catch a flight—go to the beach and get the results when I got back. I knew that one of those times I was going to be told it’s “go time” again. I just didn’t know when. I told my cardiologist that I was going down south—she looked at me and said “if anything happens down there you know you’re not covered” I knew. Given how the first surgery went down and the state of mind I was left in I wanted one last dip in the ocean. If something were to happen to me while I was away, like my heart gave out—well then, I was where I wanted to be.

Trent had finished his course and was home now and able to watch Nobu for longer than a couple days. I can only imagine what was going through Trent’s mind when he came home to a completely redecorated apartment and the yard being all cleaned and set up. Trent’s not really a big talker so I haven’t asked him stuff like that yet—what was I like during that time, because this whole thing was—is a huge process and as I’m writing today—I’m still going through it. I’m sure one day we’ll have a chat about it and hopefully a good laugh.

I got to the airport. Headed for Cayo Coco. I’ve been frequenting this beach for 20+ years. I absolutely love this beach, the crystal clear turquoise blue water, the white sand and the calmness of it all. The beaches in Cayo Coco are just that—calm, welcoming and relaxing. When I’m in the ocean, it’s where I wanna be! My favourite place in the whole wide world! It’s my zen, my restoration time and it was calling me.

I walked up to the gate and I noticed two moms—separate moms, both with one daughter each sitting across from each other and then there’s me! Hiiii! I’m thinking what’s wrong with this picture? I sat beside the girl to the left of me. She was smiling, good vibes coming from her right away. We got to chatting, found out her name was Esther. Nobody knows anybody. And I’m pretty sure it went something like this… me asking her if she had ever been to Cayo Coco before? She was super lovely, super friendly and we had a connection right away. I or we, pretty sure it was me, somehow incorporated the other mom with the daughter that was sitting directly across from us on the other bench. Her name was Kayla!

I’m thinking these two moms gotta get friendly—they gotta get to know each other, they’ve both got a daughter like, the same age. If you wanna have any fun going solo on a vacation and you’ve got your kid with you, you need to hook your kid up with another kid on the vacay to occupy your kid, so that you can actually have a vacay! I’ve done this multiple times, I knew the ropes! I’m getting everyone acquainted. Now we’re all having a conversation. The conversation was good. It was so good that we didn’t even realize we were sitting at the wrong gate and almost missed our flight!

A flight attendant came down five or six gates and asked if we’re going to Cayo Coco and we’re like “yes.” We’re sitting at a gate that says Cayo Coco but didn’t know it was for the next day so we got on the plane, everybody’s already seated, waiting—oops!

Flights over we go through customs. We’re all looking around and at each other waiting for our luggage. We're all getting on the same bus as we discovered at the gate that we were all going to the same resort so now we’re all buds! We got to the hotel, checked in and got our room keys. Kayla, her daughter and I were in the same building. Esther and her daughter were also travelling with Esther’s mother and her aunt—which I didn’t notice at the gate because they were sitting on the other side of us. They ended up in a different building further away. I went off on the golf cart to my room. Told the girls to meet right where we were, which was the lobby bar and let’s have a drink after we drop off our bags.

We all met up in the lobby and had a drink. It was late like 11-12 AM. I bought two bottles of Ciroc at the duty-free because it was my birthday and somehow for the first time ever at this resort, Memories Flemenco, a resort I had been to multiple times over the last 10 years—we all ended up in the fucking swimming pool— at night. A first time for me! The vacay started off with a bang! I grabbed my bottle of vodka and me, Esther and Esther’s daughter—Indy hopped in the pool! Another guy and a couple that were on the same plane with us also came in the pool that night. We all got friendly, frolicked in the pool and partied until 4 AM. We were having a great time—day-one!

Not sure what happened to Kayla that first night, I think she called it a night and went back to her room. Respectfully—she had her daughter, Vada who was asthmatic and she was with her daughter solo. Esther had more freedom because she had the aunt and her mother with her. Their daughters were 9-10 years old I believe or somewhere around there. They were good kids. Well behaved and they got along well together just as I hoped they would.

I was sort of coming out of the fog I was in and I wanted to surround myself with ALL things that make me happy, things that make me feel calm.

The resort, I knew well—I had spent more than a few birthdays there. I knew that this was gonna be a weird one for me but I wanted to be there nonetheless.

The next day I walked down the left side of the beach that I normally go down and guess who’s already there—Esther! I pulled up beside her, set up and chilled there for the day. Kayla was also there—we were all together. They knew it was my birthday in a couple days but we were celebrating from day-one. I think my birthday was the third day in, these girls were grabbing drinks left and right straight from the hop.

Esther and I were in the ocean together at one point—alone, we got to talking. Being around those two ladies with their daughters was very nostalgic for me. It had solely been Kayla and I until she was 12 years old, as mother and daughter. When Trent came along—as a baby, I started taking my two kids to Cayo Coco solo. So we three had been on that beach together many times.

I was drawn to them and there I was in the ocean talking with Esther about my daughter. I gave her some background, told her I had the heart surgery just 5 months earlier and how it all went down with Kayla. I’m pretty sure I kept up a strong face, a good front, but she knew I was hurting, that I was fragile and she treated me accordingly. The conversation was deep and she tried consoling me by telling me a little bit about her relationship with her mother and how when she had a daughter the relationship between her and her mother got better.

That’s how it goes on vacation you go into the ocean you pour it all out, the ocean recedes takes it all away and the salt water restores you. Well that’s how it goes for me anyway.

Now there’s like eight of us all from the same flight we’re basically a crew and it’s my birthday! I told those guys in the pool that night about this spot Lenny’s. A beautiful spot about a 20 minute drive out. You get picked up in an old ass car, top down and ride off into the sunset for a lobster dinner.

The view there of the sunset is spectacular, everyone was excited. I set up two cars at the front desk to pick us up for 6 PM and that’s where we went. All 8 of us were going to Lenny’s for my birthday dinner. Dinner was great. The company was fabulous. We were all dolled up and the two guys picked up the check which was pleasantly surprising and appreciated by all. REAL MEN! They do exist!

That night we all ended up in the pool again with the other bottle of Ciroc. Only thing different was we didn’t bother with swimsuits this time. I won’t lie, that was three days for me straight in a row—going hard! It got late everyone was drunk and had left the pool. Esther and I went back to my room. We drank some more and we danced like silly girls until the wee hours. We had crazy, fun, dancing, girl time. After all—it was my birthday!

The next day I’m done for—I need a booze break! Not sure why—‘cause I’m an ocean girl—but this day we were hanging around the pool and Kayla had her moment. She told us her story of recent events—women listening to, and supporting other women—I love that shit! All of the sudden Sade came on! Our song! My and Kayla’s song, my daughter Kayla. Our song is By Your Side, Sade. So Sade is playing and I’m on vacation with a girl named Kayla—of all names!

It was September 20th, and I hadn’t spoken to my daughter since March. I was encouraged to reach out. It was my birthday, and with everything aligning—the song, the trip, the people—I felt it was the right time—so I sent her a text telling her that I loved her and missed her. There was no response, but I didn’t expect one. I was in Cuba, where the Wi-Fi sucks. I wasn’t really on my phone anyway, so it was a good time to send a text that I wasn’t gonna get a response to.

The girls made that trip and my birthday extra special. Esther, made me feel safe. She took what had happened to me seriously—not just the surgery, but everything with my daughter. There was even a moment where some drama unfolded at the resort. A guy was being a total dick in the lobby, and Esther, all 5’4” of her, got up and told him to FUCK OFF in the most hardcore Toronto voice ever! Hahahaha! This guy was at least 6’7”, but she didn’t care. She stood her ground. That moment was wild and it showed me I wasn’t alone.

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed the clientele at this resort declining, but regardless of the scruffy guests—the trip was fun. I had a great time and we are all still in touch to this day.

The trip stirred up a lot of emotions for me. Being in Cuba—my happy place—helped me slowly crawl out of the erratic state I’d been in. It felt like I was breaking through a shell, a case I’d been in for so long. The ocean, the people, the good times—it all helped.

But as I started coming out of that shell—everything started sinking in, and the weight of reality hit me hard! No more la di da.

Cayo Coco

Third Eye Awakened

ADHD

Heart To Heart