Creative Modifications

"Surviving life’s plot twists with yarn, loud worship music, and a stubborn streak of hope."

About Me




Hello and howdy from Ontario, Canada — I’m glad you’ve found your way to this creative corner I’m building for my art and storytelling.

I hold diplomas in Visual Creative Arts & Design and Medical Office Administration, blending creativity with strong organizational skills while I continue seeking where God is leading me.

A lifelong maker, I knit, crochet, and explore fibre arts, support a Southern Ontario knitting group through communications, and volunteer creating social media content for Abbey Cats Adoptions.

My work is shaped by faith, resilience, and healing, and I’m currently developing a character-driven fictional world exploring identity, redemption, and hope in unexpected places.

recent posts

  • The High Cost of Wellness and the Co-op Grind

    The High Cost of Wellness and the Co-op Grind

    Went to “Nourish” with BB & BG tonight after co-op, and while the information was very good, I definitely had a moment of intense learning. As PQ texted a few moments ago, “With BB, most of her advice is expensive”—and boy, did I notice that truth today. I mean, I don’t have cash lying around to drop on a slew of healthy supplements that would be so good for my system and go a long way to improving this meat sack I’m currently inhabiting.
    With this recent diagnosis of “moderate arthritis” in my left knee, the doctor’s predictable advice to lose weight, and my general feelings about my mid-section, I know I must do something now. As they say in my favorite movie: It’s time to shit or get off the pot.

    Nourish Flyer

    Push Buttons and Pushing Product
    The information session really stirred the pot for me, hitting buttons that lead straight to anger and frustration. The speaker genuinely walks the walk (as does BB, to an extent) but seems to have absolutely no concept of people living on a fixed income who simply cannot afford the merchandise they were pushing and being supported by.
    Both BB & PQ have said it: start small. PQ wisely suggests, “Instead of trying to make this big change while you’re already stressed with work, pick one small thing you can change and just focus on that. Don’t stress yourself out more with rules you put on yourself. I know losing weight would be beneficial for your knee, but let it be a work in progress, a journey, not a full, automatic reversal of all your habits. You’re gonna give yourself a breakdown.“

    So, with that excellent advice in mind, I need to put some real effort into cooking for myself. I have air fryer recipes saved on Facebook—for ages now—it’s time to make a list and get what I need for those meals. Easier said than done when you’ve got $20 in the bank, five days left, and a freezer half full of easy-to-cook processed food waiting to be eaten.


    Co-op Chaos and Captive Thoughts

    At co-op, I know I can’t be expected to know how to do something right away when I’ve never learn how in the first place. I still get this intense feeling of wanting to master whatever’s being shown to me instantly. In the meantime, I’m trying to keep my mouth shut, be present, and learn everything I can about being professional in a surgical admin office, all while staying out of the way of the paid staff.

    I was shown how to process referrals this afternoon, and I was really struggling to grasp it while the assistant office manager, AD, was just whizzing through the steps and I was fumbling to jot things down. I’ve never liked someone standing behind me while I’m at the computer, and that’s exactly how my afternoon ended. AD was talking with another person and standing by my station, just in case I needed her, while I processed the rest of the faxes. As if I’m going to interrupt her very informal but clearly intense talk with outside tech support! Of course, I jumped at the chance to sit at my wobbly desk, reading over procedures and how-to guides for answering the phone. I am mortified and highly frustrated with having these intense reactions, these feelings that there’s no time in the moment to ‘take my thoughts captive’ every few seconds.


    The Working-Hours Whine (My Own)

    Processing Referrals

    And since last Friday they didn’t have work for me (and I very much needed to rest my leg, to be fair), they told me not to come in. So there goes five hours I have to make up, which is what I’ve been doing for the past two days. BB made an off-hand comment that I was “complaining about working five hours.”
    Yes, I flipping know that most people work eight hours or more. But considering what I’ve been doing all these years and my lack of job experience, the change of having to both mentally and physically adjust to working 10–3 and then 10–4 is a significant shift for me. I need to change my thinking—and yes, that’s not for everyone, but that’s how I am! Today, I was in the office from 9:40 to 4:03, and likely tomorrow and Monday as well. Then Tuesday, it’s back to the 3 p.m. finish. So excuse me if you’re having a problem with me sharing that I’m having a problem changing what I’m used to!

    That’s been my day, my thoughts. And I even yelled at my cat Luna for asking for pets with claws. Going to that info session might have just been too much for me to do in one day. I’m very much not used to all this needing to perform and function!

  • What My Medical Office Program Is Really Teaching me (Beyond the Textbooks)

    What My Medical Office Program Is Really Teaching me (Beyond the Textbooks)

    When I started my Medical Office Administration course last September, I was blown away—okay, let’s be honest, alarmed—at everything in front of me. I felt overwhelmed and scared, wondering how I’d make it through the classes, let alone co-op at the end. What I didn’t expect were the life lessons tucked between the textbooks, assignments, and placement.

    Patience seems like a lifelong lesson I keep circling back to. I’m the type who likes to get the important tasks done first so I can relax and deal with the “less important” stuff later. But if I can survive waiting for the laptop to update when I’m supposed to be logging into class, I figure I can survive almost anything. Patience feels like an art form: you’re cruising through your tasks and then wham—life throws on the brakes. Suddenly, you’re waiting on someone else before you can move forward.
    Just last week at my co-op, the office manager told me to “sit tight” when I asked what I should do next. My brain froze. What does “sit tight” even mean in an office setting? Do I literally just sit there twiddling my thumbs? Do I straighten things up even though everything already looks tidy? I didn’t want to touch something important and mess it up. Honestly, I felt like I was back in high school, afraid of being picked on just for existing.
    Then there’s organization—wow. As I’ve been scanning records, making profiles, and verifying health cards, it’s clear how crucial it is in an office. The ladies I work with are juggling phones for two businesses, slotting patients into the right schedules, calling people back, processing referrals, filing pathology reports, and navigating what feels like fifty screens at once. From the outside, I thought a doctor’s office was busy—but being inside feels more like stepping into a storm and trying to hang on without being swept away.

    At one point, I even asked if there was a script for answering the phones because two of the women say the exact same thing when they pick up. (The phones even have slightly different rings—somehow they know which is which without asking. Witchcraft, I swear.)

    Communication is another big one. Clear, kind, professional communication isn’t just for the workplace—it’s for life. On my first day, a couple of the women told me they were “laid back.” And yes, to a degree, I’ve seen that. The office doesn’t feel overly rigid, and I don’t feel out of place wearing scrubs most days. There’s a friendliness among them—asking about kids, weekends, life in general—that softens the edges of the busyness.

    I’ve also learned that confidence can be built, and growth isn’t always comfortable. Once I’m shown how to do something on the computer, I start to feel confident—whether it’s scanning reports for hours or pulling out staples with my nails. But I’m still hyper-aware of everything going on around me. I remind myself: Tanya, you’ve never worked in an office, never used an EMR system, and you can’t read minds—so stop trying to predict everything before it happens.
    Another humbling discovery? I talk to myself. Out loud. To laptops, to staplers, to no one in particular. (Apparently, I run my mouth more than I realized.) At least I’m learning to keep my non-relevant, “comical” thoughts inside before they escape into the room. Small victories.

    Still, it’s hard not to feel like the “free help” who isn’t really part of the team. I know that’s just how placements work, but it stirs up that old fear of not being included.

    And yet—these lessons aren’t in the syllabus, but they’re shaping me just as much as the textbooks. I’m learning what professionalism looks like. Yes, I’m picking up forms, software, and procedures—but I’m also learning patience, confidence, and maybe even how to be a little more human along the way.

  • Embracing Fear: Lessons from New Beginnings

    Embracing Fear: Lessons from New Beginnings

    When my sister and I were little, every big occasion required a photo outside in front of these two tall, skinny evergreen trees. Someone’s wedding, our graduations, new grade, Halloween, you name it–we were shoved outside and told to smile. Of course, as kids, we groaned and rolled our eyes, just like kids do now. But here’s the funny part: now I desperately wish I could do the same thing. There’s something about those “Mom pictures” that just …. mattered.

    These days, my “documentation” is either a carefully stagged, meaningful photo or the classic mirror selfie in my bedroom behind the door. Still, it lacks that special something–like the wind messing up your hair or Mom yelling, “Move closer to the bush!” Honestly, this past week, starting my 10-3 co-op at Niagara Plastic Surgery, I’ve never wanted mom (or someone) snapping awkward pictures of me on the porch in front of a bush more than now.

    I’m there to learn, not to be perfect. That’s why I’ve got a notebook–to take notes, not to pretend I’m a walking encyclopedia. But it’s been hard, emotionally and mentally. Full disclosure: I took a caffeine pill every day last week just to keep myself moving (don’t worry, I’m planning to cut in half or go without this week). Even so, the first few days were rough. The kind of rough where you’re lying in bed at night, tears at the ready, feeling an intensity in your chest you can’t quite name.

    It took some honest conversations with my good friend PQ–who kindly sent prayers, reasoning, and scripture–to help me realize what that burning emotion was: fear. Plain old fear. And not the “oohh, a horror movie” kind of fear. This was the “I cried out to Jesus and my mom because I didn’t feel strong enough to go back” kind of fear. At one point, I even asked Jesus if he would come back–just saying.

    But of course, I did go back. I got up, packed a lunch (with careful thought to avoid anything messy), and kept showing up. It felt a lot like collapsing on the floor after a marathon, staring at the ceiling, equal parts proud and drained. Thrilled that I’d made it through another day, but aware of the exhausting act of wearing the mask of confidence when inside I was screaming, “I just wanna go home where I’m comfortable and safe!”

    PQ helped me put words to it: I was scared. And fear is a familiar visitor whenever I step out of my comfort zone. After seventeen years of marriage where I thought my husband was my shield, suddenly being along meant I had to relearn (continuing process) how to trust–bothe myself to trust Jesus. That’s a process, especially when you walk into new places, don’t know what to expect, and feel like the only thing you’re good at is making sure your scrubs don’t have cat hair on it and are matching.

    But Friday felt better. I woke up, surrendered the fear to Jesus, and kept moving. I asked questions about the training material, took notes to scan files, and–victory of victories–the computer system did not delete all the files. (I am honestly half-expecting it).

    Here’s the truth I keep coming back to: Jesus is with me. He’s perfect, I’m not, and that’s exactly how it should be. So I’ll keep taking those little morning selfies before I go to, keep pretending I’m confident, and–very importantly–try not to talk to/back out loud to the computers.

    That’s the plan going into Monday: another week of not sitting on my butt knitting (though don’t tempt me), stay engaged, and let Jesus pull me forward while the Holy Spirit nudges me and comforts me–and hopefully I’ll continue to speak clearly and not be afraid to speak up when needed.

  • Chapter One

    Chapter One

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Creative Modifications

"Surviving life’s plot twists with yarn, loud worship music, and a stubborn streak of hope."

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