You know, bucket lists are valid no matter how you fulfill them. At least in my book.

So, I’ve been back home about 7 months now, yet it feels like forever some days and other days like a day.

I miss my friends in Spain, I admit it. I really miss walking everywhere, popping into a tavern getting 2 tapas and 2 wines for $6. Such a deal..

Gone are those days. At least for now.

I see their posts on Facebook, and they bring back memories and remind me of the supreme blessing of having lived in another country for almost 2 years, as it was on my life list, not just my bucket list.

Did it cost me?

Yes, 2 years of not putting money away as my finance guy likes to remind me.

2 years of having to spend 10K a year for my very expensive shots for my rheumatoid since meds were not covered there.

A year of sheer frustration and irritation at dealing with another country’s archaic immigration rules and ass-backward way of handling even simple things like trying to return things and lack of customer service, and doctors that don’t examine you and have zero bedside manner.

Would I do it again? Yes

Would I go back to the same country? Maybe, but only because I know what it takes to go through all the crap then come out the other side understanding it all, and then the frustration all goes away, leading to finally enjoying the place.

But I digress.

Where has your time gone? I ask my friends sometimes.

If you knew you had less than a year to live would you be able to say “I’m happy with my life.” Did you do what you wanted? Did you empty your bucket list?

People always say “It’s only one life, live it up.” But do people really do that?

Not many I think. Because day-to-day life gets in the way that’s why.

I remember having a bucket list party years ago after my cancer.

All my buds got together, and each person had to write 2 things on their bucket list and put it in a bucket without their names on it,  then later we all sat around getting toasted and the host would pull out the papers one by one and we all had to guess who’s bucket statement belonged to who.

It was hilarious and heartwarming all at the same time. Especially if it was something crazy like when someone mentioned a 3 way or jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge in a parachute. Funny what you don’t know about your friends.

Or hiking the 2653-mile Pacific Crest Trail. That one is particularly memorable because the person who said it, died just a few years later from ovarian cancer, so it never happened for her.

Funny I can’t remember my bucket list from that day except for one;

To be on a parade float.

Well, I did it.

But not in the normal law-abiding way.

Not long after that party I ran a St. Patrick’s Day 5 km with thousands and thousands of people wearing green with my “let’s have another drink” friends. We all got shit-faced after the run from all the Jello shots mear strangers handed to you as you ran past them on the race and all the free drinks after. So I was running on empty as I crossed the finish line where I was then handed a post-race beer instead of water and didn’t eat the requisite banana at the end of the race. Well, you know what that means; it all went downhill from there.

Then the parade started…. And me and my buddies were oooing and ahhing over the green leprechauns on the floats going by still popping shots and drinking green beer. The good news is, I didn’t drive myself to the race.  I came in on the train, so I figured I was no danger to anyone except to myself if I stumbled and fell in front of the tracks on the way home.

 After all, it was the famous St Patrick’s Day race and parade! Live it up if you can stand up! We shouted as we all toasted each fabulous float going by.

Then it happened… there was one float slowly going by; a flatbed truck with only 1 person dressed in  St Pat’s garb throwing green necklaces to the crowds. The truck stopped momentarily waiting for the parade to continue. …that was when some voice said in my head, said do it! Jump!

And I did; my legs took off and in my drunken state I hopped over the barrier, immediately fell on the other side smashing my forehead on the cement street, jumped up feeling nothing,  and ran into the middle of the parade route and jumped on that float.

And I did it in front of thousands of people and cell phone cameras recording stupidity in action.

I jumped on and the shocked parade guy looked at me and said “your bleeding! I touched my head felt the blood and went “Uh oh” jumped off and ran back to the barriers and the crowd parted like the red sea when they saw this drunk bleeding fool headed their way. I jumped back over the barrier and drunk friend #2 grabbed my hand and led me to an ambulance. The guys inside the ambulance were eating Dunkin Donuts.  I said slurring my words, “Don’t stop eating donuts on account of me” I’ll wait.” In my usual, I didn’t want to bother anyone attitude, even if blood was running down my face.

They shoved the box of donuts aside, grabbed my arm, and pulled me in laying me down on the stretcher. Well, ok I must have looked worse than I felt.

Drunk friend then got in and sat on the passenger side slurring her speech and said can I go with her? Yes, the driver said. “Wow, I never got to ride in an ambulance before with good-looking paramedics! The 2nd paramedic was leaning over me slapping a bandage on my face, and I remember thinking he smelled good, unsure if it was the donuts or the cologne he was wearing. Funny how smells stick with you even when you’re the midst of a crisis. Well, maybe a crisis for someone, I certainly was feeling no pain, or shame for that matter.

I then tried to text my spouse who never went to races with me and was an asshole stick in the mud with zero sense of humor anyway.    I knew he wouldn’t see the irony of his wife who survived advanced cancer doing something crazy on her bucket list as if I didn’t deserve to do something fun for once.

I didn’t want to tell him. But I figured someone would need to know eventually and Ide need a ride home.… Then the paramedic asked “Who is your emergency contact? You are I wanted to say, I am in an emergency now, and you Mr. handsome paramedic is the contact I need. You’re my fixer-upper while I smell your sweet cologne and it’s donuts.

Well, I couldn’t form full sentences anyway even if I wanted to make that statement. So I pointed to a drunk friend in the passenger seat “She knows.”

I tried my phone again. I couldn’t text, I couldn’t even see the letters on the phone. “ I can’t see the letters,” I said in my drunken stupor.

Drunk friend said “I’ll call your brother” slurring her words. Good, I said.

I tried again to text asshole spouse. After 3 tries All I could type was “I hurt self” Hey it was concise, and no one could say I didn’t try.

As the ambulance guy was cleaning the blood that ran down my cheek I rambled on about what I did and why. The ambulance guys both kind of laughed at me when I said “It was on my bucket list, I had to do it.” “so there,” I said triumphantly. “Let’s hope you remember it tomorrow” said my smiling fixer-upper.

Next thing I knew the sirens were ringing, drunk friend was having a ball up front, and I thought wow this is what it’s like to be in an ambulance, this is cool” Next thing I knew I was in some emergency room 15 minutes later on a stretcher with bright lights over my head and some male stern looking nurse starting an IV on me.

Next thing I’m getting a CAT scan seeing how I smashed my head and had a huge gash over my left eye. The CAT scan was clear, and the doc was stitching me up. You’re the first one from the St Pat’s parade so far to come in” he said.  Oh, “I’m honored to be your first drunk fool then.” I slurred.

Then I remember saying to the nurse “shhh this was the first hospital I worked at as a new nurse,” he wasn’t amused

But the doc sewing me up was chuckling when I said, “Listen I survived ass cancer a few months ago and I always wanted to be on a float. It was on my bucket list.” I did it and I don’t care what my asshole husband will say either.” In fact, that’s how I got ass cancer, I married an asshole. “Stay away from assholes.” I slurred. That got the no-nonsense male nurse to finally crack a smile. At least they’ll have a story later to tell their friends.

Yeah, that’s right! She did it and I’m proud of her too! Said a drunk friend sitting in a chair at the end of the room. Nothing like the support of friends no matter how stupid you are.

He chuckled again as he finished my sewing job.

Then my favorite brother arrived, he looked concerned and even seemed slightly amused at what I did.  But he didn’t yell at me.  “I’m here to take you home” he says to a drunk friend.  “Your husband is on the way,” he said to me, oh great, the big downer is coming, I’m sure I’ll get 6 weeks of silent treatment for this. Too bad I wasn’t drunk enough to say I wanted a divorce while I was slurring my words and doing “unexpected things” that day.

The next day I was hungover like I never before with a big bandage over my left eye.

If I had a chance, would I ever do it again? Absolutely, if I was drunk enough that is. Or Ide just volunteer to be in a parade, that’s much safer and legal anyway.

I’m glad I wasn’t arrested, cause I was eligible for sure. If I had, that certainly would have been grounds for divorce I’m sure. hmmm too bad come to think of it.

So what’s on your bucket list?

I love St Patrick’s Day.

Keep an eye out for a YouTube special of “stupid shit people do when drunk”, I’ll be easy to spot, the blond wearing a frog beanie and spurting blood jumping barriers.

Although I lost my green beanie frog hat that day, darn it

Somewhere reminiscing in the US on St.  Patrick’s Day.