Cancer Schmancer

Dear friends, especially those who have been faithful readers of this blog, I'm thrilled to tell you that this party is over. That is, I'm moving back into the wide world of work, so I've decided to stop posting here and start posting here.

Not that it hasn't been fun keeping you up to date on my health odyssey and my other adventures, but I really want to change my focus away from the cancer experience. It will continue to be very much a defining element in my attitude to life, but it should be in the background now, so I can jump into new things with both feet.

Those of you who got notifications of new posts here will hear about the new blog posts in the same way, unless you tell me to take you off the list. Anyone who wants to be added to that list, just drop me an email.

The existing posts here will remain and, of course, I welcome any readers who may benefit from my experience. Thanks to you all for taking the time to share my life here.

Posted by lynda at 03:38 PM | Permalink

I said a while back that this blog would no longer be entirely about health and that hasn't changed, but I will note a small success here on that subject. Yesterday I had an ultrasound, a follow-up to some inconclusive findings in January. The test showed no significant change; that is, what might have been tumour material has not grown perceptibly since January, and in fact, is unchanged since last May. I share my oncologist's opinion that this stuff is scar tissue, quite benign. And so I forge ahead with LIVING, complete with its rich tapestry of experiences, from the freshness of the April evening walk with my dog to the misery of getting up early and not lazing in bed with my tea -- yes, folks, I'm back to work.

Posted by lynda at 10:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I recently tried out Skype, a neat way to talk to people online. My first experience yesterday was pretty cool, as I was talking with cousin Graham in England. So picture it: Graham and I, thousands of miles apart, are talking -- real voices in real time, not just instant messaging -- for free. Gotta love it!

Today, Bob and I did a much more local spin. He's downstairs in the batcave and I'm two floors up tucked into bed with my laptop. And we're talking with Skype -- at last, we've solved the intercom problem! Now I can bug him to stop surfing the net and put the kettle on without even getting out of bed. Gotta love it!

Posted by lynda at 11:04 PM | Permalink

Claire headed off early for her last goodbyes at the zoo and Mom and I went out much more slowly to spend our last day at The Rocks, the historic area near the harbour. We caught a bus, as usual, in overcast cool weather, threatening rain. Got to Circular Quay in about 10 minutes and walked around from there, with occasional stops to rest and enjoy the people and old buildings. We found the New South Wales records office, so went in to inquire about our ancestor who fought for Australia at Gallipoli. Not much luck, but a helpful lead on how I can continue the search online. Meandering back through the brick walkways, we found a cafe for our last fish and chips (plus a healthy salad!). On the way back to the quay, we went up to a farewell balcony designed for people waving off those on passenger liners -- great views of the harbour! Within minutes, we found a bus to bring us back here to the Internet place, just around the corner from our hotel. In spite of how it looked this morning, there was no rain all day. We must leave early tomorrow morning for the airport, so this really is the end of a superb vacation.

Posted by lynda at 02:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Our final morning in perth was lovely -- sunny for the most part and comfortably warm. We had a relaxing brunch at a cafe around the corner from the hotel in a restored Victorian building. Then we wandered the open-air malls one more time, window-shopped iPod Minis and watched a street musician. Settled in a cafe again where the people watching was good, then made our way by taxi to the airport.

The flight to Sydney was quick and smooth, only about three and a half hours, just time for a quick dinner and lame movie. The hotel in Sydney -- same as last time and I won't honour them by advertising their name -- exceeded its bad impression from last time. Took ten minutes or more to check in (nobody in line at nearly midnight and we were reserved for three people), then we found the phone didn't work and there were only two towels. We got the room changed and were settled again just in time for the fire alarm to go off -- false alarm and at least it wasn't raining outside.

Now it's Sunday morning, oops, just after noon, and a glorious hot day. Claire is off to Manly to say goodbye yet again and we are sightseeing on foot in the city, meeting friends of Janine's later today for tea.

Posted by lynda at 09:03 PM | Permalink

Thursday
Claire headed out Thursday morning to shop at the outlet mall while I went walking and found the art gallery. Mom stayed at the hotel to wait for a coffee date with 5W women and I met them later once I had sampled the gallery exhibits. We all set out together in the afternoon for the Perth Zoo. To get there we got one of the three free bus services in the city to the ferry jetty and took a 7-minute ride across the river to south Perth. The zoo was a short walk from the ferry dock. I finally saw dingoes (enclosed), plus lots of kangaroos and wallabees in open areas. Good presentation in the African savannah section, but overall this zoo needs better signage and more benches for Mom to rest on. We came back via a regular bus from just outside the zoo. For Thursday's dinner, Mom insisted on lobster, so we found a restaurant just a few blocks walk away in Northbridge (so named, perhaps, because it is north of the railway bridge).

Friday
Thursday morning we had booked Friday's wine tour, so we were picked up just after 9 in pouring rain and high winds. Great weather to spend touring the countryside and drinking wine. We visited three Swan River Valley wineries in the morning, stopping at the third for a delightful lunch, then sampled two more wineries in the afternoon before dessert at a microbrewery. We finished up at the chocolate factory where our driver insisted we sample excessively. An excellent tour, but oh, the calories! If we can manage it this evening, we plan to do some final shopping around the corner from the hotel. Tomorrow is our last morning in the wonderful city of Perth -- great place to visit and lovely people everywhere we've been.

Posted by lynda at 05:34 AM | Permalink

I'm writing these entries offline and pasting them in, so I hope they make sense. Here's our last two days.

The rest of Monday we continued to see how the Nullarbor Plain changes over its thousands of kilometres. Saltbush seems to be the only growing thing that can hold on in most areas, but even that gave up to red sand in some places. From time to time we would see towers that could have been for transmission I suppose. Once we saw one that had been given up to bird nests. Near that track every few kilometres was some kind of maintenance building flanked by a solar panel array.

Monday evening we stopped at Kalgoorlie for a bus tour of the mining city Kalgoorlie-Boulder, home of the largest open pit gold mine in the world, which we saw lit up and doing business as it does round the clock. The city has a marvellous number of restored and protected turn of the century buildings.

Overnight we entered the marginal plain area and another world. As we neared the end of the plain we had seen cattle, then finally real fields of grazing sheep. The landscape then changed again to rocky hills, lushly forested -- saw another kangaroo. We followed a river known for its whitewater rafting at other times of the year. The sudden appearance of water puddles and reservoirs was startling after so much desert. We pulled into Perth just after 9 am.

We had a wait at the train station for our ride and waited again for our hotel room to be ready, but meanwhile found the local internet cafe and started to explore the central business district, which we seem to be right in the middle of. Later in the afternoon, we found two major outdoor malls within a block of the hotel, swarming with people. We dined at a Belgian cafe across the street: Belgian beer, mussels and of course waffles with double cream for dessert.

On Wednesday we were picked up about 8:15 for our bus tour of Perth. Our driver was very entertaining and knowledgeable about the sites and history. Best spot was our stop at the botanical gardens in King's Park, where we had lots of time to take a treetop walk overlooking the city. Very nice gift shop there, too, with excellent prints and pottery. The afternoon part of the tour took us to the ferry docks for a cruise on the Swan River to Fremantle (about an hour and a half), past the millionaires' houses on the river. Fremantle is an interesting collection of period buildings, souvenir shops, restaurants and markets (none open today). Lots of bookstores. We came back by bus, taking a scenic route along the coast for a bit to see some of the beach stretching along this part of the Indian Ocean.

Posted by lynda at 07:32 AM | Permalink

Yay! We pulled into Perth this morning -- hot and sunny with lots of greenery everywhere. As we wait for our hotel room, here are some of my notes from the last two days. (I'll post more once we get settled into the hotel -- looks like we're in the centre of things -- lots of walkable areas.)

Sunday

For our last day in Adelaide we set out to see the zoo. I decided to walk because one of our hosts from last night's dinner had shown us the route. It was a quick 20 minutes across parkland and along a shady path. Mom and Claire joined me eventually after taking the bus. It's a lovely zoo, small but well kept and with lots of animals in clear view. We saw their bird show, which consisted of two blue and gold macaws in free flight over the main lawn.

Claire and I then set off for the city centre, waited a bit for a bus, then decided to walk along the River Torrens. We chanced upon the Migration Museum, so Claire went off exploring while I toured it for an hour. Excellent presentations! Lots of info and artifacts about people who migrated to Australia over the past two centuries, lots of personal stories. Part of the complex is the former Destitute Asylum and a hospital for indigent mothers. Very poignant stories depicted the orphans and women unfortunate enough to find themselves there in the 19th century.

I met up with Claire again and did a quick tour of the State Library, which was nearby, and the South Australia Museum. In the latter I only had energy for a quick tour of a photography exhibition. The library had in its lower level a small gallery full of aboriginal paintings, so we did a quick scan there as well before grabbing a cab back to the hotel. Still time there for a beer and catchup on email before our ride arrived for the train station. At the station we had lots of time to rest and people watch -- who should show up but three people from last night's dinner to see us off! Cathy, our hostess, plus June and Bill from Florida, came and chatted with us until we boarded the train.

Monday

After an exquisite dinner last night, we fell into our bunks quite readily, especially knowing the wake-up coffee or tea was to be at about 6:15. After a sumptuous breakfast, we spent much of the day crossing the incredible Nullarbor Plain, an apparently limitless stretch of desert, punctuated with saltbush (a grey shrub about 8 inches tall at most) and very occasionally a scrawny tree-like effort. We stopped at Cook, once home to 300 people but now a ghost town with a couple of people running a sparse gift shop. Got a good view of a low-flying wedge-tail eagle before we got back on the train. Under a couple of surprisingly green bushes further on we saw kangaroos, but otherwise no wildlife and very few birds.

Posted by lynda at 09:52 PM | Permalink

We're been out of earshot for you blog fans for a few days while on the train and in Adelaide, so here are my notes for that time. Today is our last day in Adelaide -- going to the zoo just across the park from the hotel, then late this afternoon catching the train to perth.

Wednesday
Met Claire at the train station just as we walked in. She had to take the bus (two buses and a cab, actually) to get to Circular Quay and do an errand in the city. We had lots of time for coffee and a chat before we made our way to the platform to board the train. The sleepers for Red Kangaroo service are quite tiny but adequate. We settled and got moving, then went along to the lounge car, where we could see out both sides -- great views. After we left the city and outskirts (about an hour), we gradually ascended into the Blue Mountains, leaving the pouring rain behind, too, for forested steep countryside with houses and villages here and there. There are 10 tunnels through these mountains, according to the audio tour, but some are quite short. Several breathtaking panoramas go by -- you can see for miles in places. Just before it got dark, the train started downward out of the mountains, into hilly pasture land, still with lots of trees, then finally before we couldn't see any more, almost flat farmland.

The dining car offered several choices, plus wine and beer, from cheerful, friendly stewards -- I heard one singing as he went by. Other passengers were chatty and good natured.

Thursday
We woke about daybreak to see flat, scrubby land with patchy trees here and there and a few sheep. Easy to see clumps or pairs of kangaroos bouncing away plus a couple of emus.

We stopped in Broken Hill about 7 am, long enough to peruse the vendor stalls at the station (all white, mostly old women selling home-made or cheap goods). Then we went further on the recommendation of the steward to peek into the Palace Hotel, a large Victorian building that had seen better days on the main street -- wall to wall painted murals in the front foyer and up two levels of stairs. We bought sandwiches at a coffee shop and headed back to the train.

The rest of the day took us through everchanging landscape, some desert and farmland, some scruffy trees, all under brilliant sunshine. We saw hills in the distance and gradually caught up to them. Got into Adelaide about an hour and a half late, but our pleasant driver was waiting with his van. The hotel is comfy, but Internet access very expensive, so we may wait until the next opportunity. Had a yummy dinner this evening; Mom had kangaroo filet.

Friday
We were picked up early Friday morning (left our luggage there so we could travel light) and taken to the domestic air terminal. As we had lots of time, the driver took us through the main area of Adelaide, pointing out a few sights. Not much happening as it was Good Friday. We waited at the terminal, watching various other tourists and holidayers arrive, then boarded a small prop plane holding 19 of us for the 30 minute flight to Kangaroo Island. Our driver met us at Kingscote Airport on the island and we boarded a mini-bus for our guided tour.

Our first wildlife sighting: wallabees. Regrettably, they were roadkill. Once we reached the Flinders Chase National Park, we saw the carpark kangaroos -- they hang around hoping to be fed -- then started to see more roos and wallabees throughout the day. The island is small enough that we covered three exceptional spots on the coast as well as much of the inland area. Our lunch stop included a walk in the eucalyptus woods to see koalas. Lots of wallabees there, too, plus a tiny but spectacular blue wren. The koalas were introduced to the island and are eating too many trees, so there are debates about culling them. Clearly a problem with something so cute. Best stops for me today were the New Zealand fur seal colony at Admiral's Arch and Seal Bay, home of the second largest breeding colony of Australian sea lions. We're resting now at Kangaroo Island Lodge, flying out tomorrow to return to Adelaide.

Saturday
We spent the day seeing the city, including the beach at Glenelg, then had dinner with Mom's 5W friends in a suburb of North Adelaide. Great evening!

Posted by lynda at 05:30 PM | Permalink

For our fans who have asked for pix, we have uploaded a few to flickr.com. If you search on the tag Sydney2005 (no space), you should see them.

Posted by lynda at 06:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Tuesday we headed off on foot for the Australian Museum, about three or four blocks from the hotel. On the way, we stopped for a chat with the entry guard for Sydney Grammar School, a posh private school for boys. He kindly offered a little tour of the grounds and was pleased to share a few bits of info about the school.

At the museum, we started with the indigenous peoples area, a very extensive section where we spent at least two hours, plus more after a snack break. Lots of interesting artifacts from years ago, but also plenty of art and commentary from today's aboriginal people in Australia.

From there we went to the birds and insects room, very interesting especially since we had seen several at Claire's show. From there we found biodiversity, which dealt with animals and ecosystems, etc. Failed to find a wombat. Down one floor, we found the minerals display, including the Albert Chapman collection, a wonderful variety of brilliant rocks. After a coffee, where we watched the torrential rain outside, we headed for the skeleton room -- wombat, there, but sans skin of course. Finally, we mosied through the store, buying souvenirs made in Peru (!) plus rocks to take home. Walked back to the hotel in the rain, but it was still warm.

It's Wednesday morning now, still raining and very gusty. Claire called to say the ferries were cancelled so she must make her way to meet us at the train station via an express bus. Needless to say, the lineups for the buses are considerable. We're all set to move on to our next adventure in Adelaide.

Posted by lynda at 06:14 PM | Permalink

Today was zoo day and it was brilliant from start to finish. We caught an early ferry to Manly, where Claire has been living for the last three months. We were too early for her, but no matter; it was a delightful ride in gorgous weather. Once we arrived at Manly, we had a leisurely coffee until Claire showed up to conduct us along a short street or two to the beach. Not too crowded but beautiful by anyone's standards. Then we walked back on The Corso, a pedestrian walkway lined with surf shops and whatnot, clearly catering to the young. Claire stopped briefly to catch up on email, then we boarded a bus for the zoo. We changed buses and got to the zoo about 11:30.

Claire took us in by the employee entrance and we went down right away to see the first Bird Show, for which she was assisting (catching and releasing birds for the presenter). The show is given in an amphitheatre overlooking Sydney Harbour -- fabulous view! After the show, we dashed over to the food place to grab lunch before the seal show, actually starring an American sea lion. Then back up a very steep walkway where Claire's boss gave us a very special personal tour. We walked into an enclosure where they normally entertain school groups and made friends with an old lady grey kangaroo, very sweet and gentle. Next he brought out an echidna, Australia's answer to the North American porcupine. In spite of her armour, she also was really sweet natured and tolerated a sort-of pat. To top things off, out came a baby koala, just a soft and fuzzy as the stuffed kind. We each got to hold her and give her lots of pats, which is actually part of her socialization for future encounters with kids. There were wombats there, too, but they were sleeping, so we left totally high from this special experience with the three stars.

Mom and I cruised through the zoo a bit until it was time for the next Bird Show, starring our very own Claire as presenter. She was outstanding! She had pretty good cooperation from most of the birds and at the end one of the trainers came out to tell everyone how much Claire had contributed and to lead the audience in three cheers.

Finally, Claire led us through the backstage area to meet the avian stars (plus the rats who had a walk-on in the earlier show). It was very clear then how difficult it is going to be for her to leave this marvellous experience behind. Everyone was friendly and commented on how much she will be missed.

We left her there very misty-eyed and walked down to the waterfront to get the ferry back to Circular Quay. On the quay we revived our sore feet, people-watched and downed a refreshing shandy or two. Dinner was fish and chips from one of the quay vendors -- yummy.

Posted by lynda at 03:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Today we were treated to a full day tour and chat by Chebi, a friend of Janine's from her visit to OZ years ago. She picked us up from the hotel at 9 and took us to Clovelly, on the east coast of Sydney, for brunch. We sat outdoors but under cover because it was raining at first, in view of the crashing surf. Mom had a bruschetta concoction with two poached eggs and a roasted tomato on a huge slab of toasted sourdough bread. My breakfast was called a trifle, consisting of granola, yogurt and fresh fruit.

From there, we went on a coast drive, seeing Bronte Beach, another I can't remember something like Tamarama, then the famous Bondi Beach. We stopped to commune with the magpies and drink in the views. Ultimately we got to Watson's Bay, from which you can see across to Manly. Came back westward through Rose Bay, Double Bay and Paddington, seeing lots of ritzy houses. Then back to Chebi's in Surry Hills, where we had a reviving cold drink in the tree-shaded garden and heard a kookaburra. Chebi went for sushi, etc. and came back with enough to feed eight. We met Mark, her ex-lodger, just moving out after 15 years. Spent the rest of the afternoon nattering about this and that and seeing some of Chebi's prints. She dropped us off at the Internet place right near our hotel. After this morning's rain, the rest of the day was pretty perfect sunshine.

Posted by lynda at 02:09 AM | Permalink

We did Hyde Park this morning, just a couple of blocks from the hotel. Walked through it, stopping at the impressive Art Deco Anzac memorial and also briefly stopping to admire the black-headed ibises attacking garbage bins in the park.
Just before lunch we met Claire at the ferry dock and walked over to The Rocks. Did a very thorough walkthrough of the market stalls there, then stopped for noodles. One more block brought us to an art gallery Claire had found on a previous visit -- lots of very good aboriginal art pieces.

We made our way back to the quay where we caught a train to the Darling Harbour area, walking a considerable way, at times with some doubt about our direction. At last we found the Powerhouse Museum where we went through the Lord of the Rings Exhibition -- excellent! By this time we were flagging, so we took a cab back to the hotel for a reviving cuppa.

Claire came with me to the Internet place to catch up on some mail, but she has gone now to catch a bus back to Manly. Tomorrow Chebby is picking us up for breakfast.

Posted by lynda at 01:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Back at the Internet place early Saturday morning, but we can't use my laptop so I'm tapping away at a clunky keyboard of theirs. We met Claire last night at the ferry docks and went for dinner at The Rocks where she downed a huge plate of spaghetti and a sticky date pudding, noting that she has gained some weight in the last three months. (It's not noticeable to me.) We're meeting her again this morning to spend some time at The Rocks area, including the weekend market. Still overcast, but nice and warm. We've decided to stay at the hotel until Wednesday instead of in Manly.

Posted by lynda at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We're here in Sydney after a punctual but gruelling 24-plus hours in transit. Mom is easing her feet at the hotel while I have found internet access down the street -- not free alas, but cheap.
First impressions: way better weather! It's overcast here and rained earlier, but nice and warm -- T-shirt weather. We're somewhere downtown, but there are barred windows and tight security in public buildings, a la California and other US cities. Lots of young tourists, as you might expect.
At the airport we stopped for a reviving coffee, then took a shuttle bus to the hotel. As we walked to the bus, a stand of eucalyptus trees wafted their scent over us. Guess we're in koala-land.

Posted by lynda at 08:28 PM | Permalink

My passport finally arrived yesterday, ending the suspense about our departure next week for kangaroo-land. Okay, now I can really get excited! This will be a tri-generation odyssey for my mother, my daughter and myself as we trek in style from Sydney to Adelaide to Perth and back in just under three weeks. It will be my last grand blast of free time before I return to work, likely in late April. Might as well put the cap on the year of hell and celebrate coming out the other side with gusto.

Posted by lynda at 09:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Just to keep busy, I've been overhauling our main bathroom in a minor inexpensive fashion. The rewiring of the GFI plug went OK, with Bob's support, as did the demolition of the wooden valance covering a really antique fluorescent fixture (just me and my girlie hammer -- such fun to break things).

I painted, then painted again, deciding that two coats of primer were needed before the exquisite "orange confection" which is really a demure pale peach nicely covered the walls. In a final mad push to get the room back into functional territory, I tackled the installation of a new light fixture this evening, only to find that it worked, but didn't turn off. Well, the instructions said join the white wire to the white and the black to the black, but didn't say squat about the red wire, which, it turns out, actually is the wire from the switch, as in "on" and "off."

I figured it out, after a quick consultation with the net, then verified my rewiring decision with friend Brian. Yay, it works! Still have to tackle painting the cupboard doors and drawers and I have far too much "orange confection" paint left, but I'll soon be ready to move on to the ensuite bathroom. Brian says making a GFI out of nothing is a piece o' cake ...

Posted by lynda at 12:21 AM | Permalink

I was thrilled this week to get another piece of the family tree puzzle that absorbs me lately, a copy of the marriage registration for my second set of great, great grandparents. With this type of record, I can go back at least one more generation, because the record shows the names of the fathers of both bride and groom. In this case, however, I was able to go even further. With a little sleuthing I discovered more family information from online sources, and asked another researcher of a similar family name for some help. He has been working on his for about 30 years, he says, and he readily supplied me with details for my family line going back to about 1635. Wow! In a couple of days I jumped two centuries.

Posted by lynda at 07:52 PM | Permalink

Our blog files were hacked today, which means that our blogs disappeared for a couple of hours. Fortunately, our webguy, Bob, was on the job as usual and got the problem fixed in short order. Which is to say nothing is permanent and immutable. It is a concept I have embraced lately, that nothing really can be counted on to endure. Nothing is constant, reliable, forever. That doesn't mean that nothing has value. On the contrary, it means that everything must be valued for what it is right now. That gives immense value to the present moment, which is all we have.

Posted by lynda at 12:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I got good reports from all over today. Claire called from Oz, where she was about to leave for work at the zoo. She decided to work a weekend for a change just to see what it was like. Still having a great time and noticing already that it won't be long before her internship is over.

Maureen and Rachel left early this morning to get home to Vancouver in good time before Rachel's baby makes her appearance in this world. I just talked to Tracy, who said Avery is doing quite well. His IV antibiotics will continue until Tuesday, but she plans to stay with him at the hospital until they can both go home.

Posted by lynda at 05:28 PM | Permalink

Avery arrived last night just before 9 pm, delivered by Caesarean section after a long day's labour. Tracy is doing fine, but is understandably exhausted. Avery was under observation at first, but he is expected to be with Tracy in her room by today. He is 7 lb 9 oz and 21 inches long. Grandma is also very tired as she was at the hospital for many hours last night.

Posted by lynda at 08:40 AM | Permalink

It's after 11 pm and still no news of Tracy and baby yet. As of about 5 this afternoon, she was making slow progress at the hospital and Mom was getting ready to be with her. I took Maureen and Rachel up from Union Station to Tracy's house and then to their hotel near the hospital. Driving was absolutely nasty as we had flurries all day on top of ice. Further bulletins as events warrant.

Posted by lynda at 10:59 PM | Permalink

Tracy is in Barrie's Royal Victoria Hospital being induced as of 7:30 this morning. As of last night, she was doing fine. I'll post updates here as soon as I can.

Posted by lynda at 09:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Tomorrow is my oldest son's 30th birthday. I try to avoid counting the years since I had a conversation with him, but every day I imagine one we might have. The passing years have not eased the pain of his absence, nor lessened my fears for his wellbeing. From what I've been told, he appears to be doing okay, living a life not far from people who love him, but an immeasurable distance from me.

I've chosen a picture that makes me smile, because it shows him making fun of himself with the joy I remember. I miss your laughter, Noel, as much as your conversation. I wish you wellness and peace and love. Happy Birthday!

Posted by lynda at 08:17 PM | Permalink

My Aunt Joyce died last Friday in Ottawa, to the dismay of all the family. She was a lovely woman who really knew how to laugh. I will remember her always for her enthusiasm about everything, her good wishes and good humour about life, no matter what it served up.

Claire reports from OZ that she has moved to new digs with her three friends and hopes to stay put until the end of her stay there. She is doing more at the zoo now. As a visible part of the public bird show, she gets to catch the barking owl (an owl native to Australia). She's still loving it, especially the weather.

Posted by lynda at 05:31 PM | Permalink

I had to corral the dogs in the batcave while the cleaning lady was here this morning, so I watched HGTV. Bad idea. Now I want to renovate everything, not just our modest kitchen. It's not that I drooled over the shiny and the trendy, what these shows focus on, but I was just struck with the newness that you get from a few, albeit major and probably expensive, changes. I can't wait to get started on the kitchen project, even though I know it will be weeks of mess. I'm just in the mood for changes that I can use.

Posted by lynda at 01:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

In my surgeon's opinion, my cancer has not returned and thus is not the reason for my current malaise. The ultrasound report suggested the same suspicious items as my last CAT scan (May 2004), but he continues to believe (as do I) that they are not tumours. To be safe, he has scheduled another ultrasound in three months. Meanwhile, I can go to my GP to try to figure out why I am feeling so crappy. Still holding out for that prescription for a Caribbean vacation.

Posted by lynda at 01:09 PM | Permalink

My checkup this morning at PMH was inconclusive. My complaints were suspicious enough to prompt an ultrasound, which I managed to get done this afternoon (saving another trip downtown). We'll discuss the results of this and my latest blood test next Tuesday morning.

Posted by lynda at 04:41 PM | Permalink

Claire moved to a shared house in Cremorne on the weekend, but it will only be for a week or two after all. The landlord had planned renovations for April, but now they must be started sooner. Her friends, with whom she had been staying up to now, will also be looking for a new place, so they've decided all four will look for a place to share.

Claire reports she had a great day at the zoo today, where she was actually handling the birds and taking a more active role behind the scenes at the bird show. She's now looking into applying to Guelph for next fall because they have a strong environmental science program. This is the direction she now wants to take.

As for me, I'm back to see my oncology team tomorrow for a routine checkup. Here's hoping they prescribe a few weeks in the tropics.

Posted by lynda at 09:56 AM | Permalink

At Christmas, my mother gave me a family heirloom, worth some dollars, to be sure, but much more valuable than that to me for the connection to a specific person in our family. She is someone long dead, whom I never met, but who had some adventures in her life, I think. She did well enough to leave small bequests to several of her relatives, including my grandmother, and that is how this heirloom has come to me.

I have recently been spending a lot of time on my family tree and at the same time wondering why it should fascinate me so. I have reached two conclusions. The first is that we all love stories and to hunt down stories of one's own family is a delight that feeds both the ego and the nosey parker in me. Each fragment of a past life that I find is like this heirloom I now possess. The story belongs to me (as well as to everyone else in my family) and has great value and meaning because it is connected to real people who lived real lives and who are connected to me.

My second conclusion is that this detective work is a way of leaving something for my children. I can leave them material things, a few anyway, but these quickly lose their value and most have no meaning. But if I can leave them some stories, some sense of who went before in their various family lines, then that is a special bequest. Maybe 50 years from now, one of my sons or my daughter will read about one of their ancestors and be amazed, or delighted, or inspired.

Posted by lynda at 10:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Claire has done her first day at Turango Zoo (it's already Tuesday now down there) and reports that it was awesome. The zoo person she is working with suggested she work only 10 weeks so she'll have the last two to see some sights, so that's the plan. She moves into her digs Saturday, sharing a three-bedroom house with two guys in Cremorne, about ten minutes away from the zoo. The landlord is a musician; she and Sean (her friend visiting Sydney) went to see his band play last week. She continues to rave about Sydney and threatens she'll have to move there permanently (sigh).

Posted by lynda at 10:03 AM | Permalink

Claire has a cell phone already, so naturally I called her. She is still looking for a place to live, but has organized some options and has been in touch with the zoo, where she will start first thing Monday. She sounds thrilled to be there and is particularly delighted with the weather. Her friends are staying for at least another month, so she has a built-in social life already.

Here at home I'm caring for Tiger, who is recovering nicely from an eye infection (aided by having her inner eyelid sewn shut by the vet!). All dogs are enjoying the foul weather, because it means they can race around the backyard at will.

Posted by lynda at 12:43 AM | Permalink

I got Claire's first email from Australia this morning. The first leg of her flight was delayed, so she missed her connection in Los Angeles, but finally got to Sydney about two and a half hours later than planned. She's already warning us she may not come home because it's so beautiful there.

Posted by lynda at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

"We were left with nothing but our lives." That statement by a survivor of the tsunami disaster in Asia has haunted me since I read it. The person in question likely had lost everything in the most extreme sense -- home, livelihood, even family. The horror we have read about seems inconceivable from this side of the world. All the things in our lives, and the people we hold dear, are part of our precious personal ecosystems. But they are dust in the wind against Nature, or fate, or whatever name you assign to an inevitable force bigger than us. Loss is a fact of life. All we can do is comfort those who are stricken, and try not to be an agent of loss for others.

Here are a couple of tech notes for this blog. For those who care and know what it is, you can subscribe with an RSS reader to find out about new posts (see the link at lower left). If anyone would like an email notification of each new post, please email me and I can add you to a notification list.

Posted by lynda at 11:13 PM | Permalink

Claire arrived safely very late last night from BC. Picking her up was a white knuckle experience, even in her yummy SUV: I saw three accidents on my way to the airport, looked like people who had spun out on the ice and landed in the ditch. We took a careful slow route back to the house.

Now we will prepare to rejoice with as many family members as we can draw near. Best wishes to all of you for peace and joy over the next few days.

Posted by lynda at 11:25 AM | Permalink

I look out my window to a lovely spruce tree garnished artistically with snow and now being embellished with freezing rain -- nice if you don't have to experience it outside. Finally started to feel jolly about Christmas this week when Polly and Sally came to dinner on Tuesday. Last night I finished the one present I am making myself -- I tried to keep my expectations realistic by only doing one -- and I'm pretty pleased with it. It's small, but crafted with love.

Starting last Christmas, Bob and I have been giving each other something very special as a gift -- the gift of no stress about buying your partner's gift. We decide early on a joint present we'll both enjoy, then he gets it. This year it's the Star Wars movie trilogy, which we can cuddle up to watch over the holidays.

My latest obsession is my family tree, which I made a good start on and Bob put here: www.chiotti.com/familytree/. The info for living people is hidden for privacy, but I welcome additions and corrections for any of the family. Still to come -- pictures!

Posted by lynda at 09:54 AM | Permalink

Decorating a Christmas tree by yourself has got to rank high among depressing experiences, but, hey, I had three dogs for company tonight. Then I checked my email and found a friend had sent me one of those collections of reminders of how blessed we are -- and I am! Also in the mail was a picture of Carolina's baby, now doing better, still in hospital but able to breathe on her own. Thanks for the prayers for this little girl.

I made a slew of Christmas cookies today. Good thing, too, because having the oven on helped me avoid the reality of the plummeting temperature outside. Did I mention yet that I hate winter? Even the dogs aren't dawdling in the backyard and the screen door is frosting up very artistically.

Posted by lynda at 10:40 PM | Permalink

Just spoke to Claire at Maureen's in BC. She has had a great visit with her, Barbara and Rachel, including the Vancouver aquarium, Chinatown and Grouse Mountain. This afternoon she leaves on the ferry to Nanaimo, where Jane's parents will meet her and she can spend the next six days visiting with them. Jane arrives from California on the weekend.

Claire had called me to find out about Tiger, who has an eye infection -- not serious and being treated with TLC and ointment by yours truly. That makes all three dogs currently on some type of medication.

Posted by lynda at 02:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The judicial powers-that-be helped me to a reality check today. I was called for jury duty at the Brampton courthouse. When the notice arrived about a month ago, I thought I would probably be able to do it and figured I might as well do my civic duty when it's least inconvenient, career-wise. By this morning, I was having serious misgivings and by the time I arrived to check in, I decided to ask if I could be excused. I went through the request process and by 10 am had to lie down. A court official directed me to a quiet spot and shortly after told me I could go home while my excuse was being considered. She kindly phoned later to say I was in fact excused. Whew! I'm sure the stress of the situation added to my fatigue, but it seems indisputable that my energy level has a long way to go to get to normal.

Just spoke to Claire, who has landed safely in Vancouver and is resting at Maureen's. She's a bit jet lagged but delighted to be in 10 degree weather rather than here.

Posted by lynda at 06:21 PM | Permalink

Yesterday I started Level 3 of the Healing Journey program, run by Dr. Alastair Cunningham at PMH. I saw several of my friends from the earlier levels, plus the leaders, including Cathy, who runs the Friday relaxation class at Wellspring. There is serious homework for this one -- we even have to hand it in -- but I consider that one of the attractions. It will force me to do some reading and writing I have wanted to get to for months.

I had a call in the afternoon from a stranger. She had found the Globe and Mail article I wrote six years ago about Noel and politely asked if the story had a happy ending. I explained that it hadn't, despite our efforts, and she sympathized.

I marvel about two things. First, that my article has unexpected staying power; she didn't say how she had come across it -- could have been cleaning out an attic or searching online, I guess. Second, that kind strangers can be stirred to reach out when they see another's pain. It's not a surprise that they do, just a surprise to find myself touched this way.

Posted by lynda at 06:40 PM | Permalink

I have enjoyed my brief opportunity to mother my mother this week. We, me and the dogs, that is, are heading home tomorrow as long as the weather allows it. Mom's doing OK, but needs to be in slo-mo for several more days. Janine will be taking over for me.

One of the things I have really appreciated this week was having someone with whom to talk matter-of-factly about death. Both of us have felt its hot breath on the back of our necks this year. We have each said "Whoa, Nellie!" and looked around to see what could be done in the time remaining, given that the time remaining is anybody's guess, but probably less than you'd think. We both know there are people who get a panicked look when you allude to the real fact that life is terminal for everybody. We understand that. It's not an easy truth. It's a fearful thing. And like all fearful things, it loses its power to intimidate every minute that you can lay it out in front of you and talk about it like next week's groceries with someone who is brave -- like my mom.

Posted by lynda at 11:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm still in Owen Sound with my mom, who is feeling OK more or less, but not able to do her usual round of activities at breakneck speed. It's feeling like a vacation for me -- lots of quiet, only two dogs to care for, no housework staring at me and no deadlines. Mom and I are muddling through her vast quantity of photos, bringing some order at last to bags and boxes of precious pix.

I'll be going to the Tarragon play this Friday, No Great Mischief, and I have an extra ticket, so if anyone reading this would like to join me, please call or email.

Posted by lynda at 05:18 PM | Permalink

Me and the girls (canine girls, that is, Tiger and Bell) have reconvened with Mom in Owen Sound a bit unexpectedly. Mom needed some TLC, probably as a result of her fall recently. She's in good form, very glad to see Tiger as part of the entourage. I just took the two dogs around the block -- what a treat to walk down the middle of the road on a crisp November evening with no traffic noise in the distance.

Posted by lynda at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Tomorrow a good man will be buried, my Uncle Bob. He was an uncle I acquired as a pre-teen, when my mother married his brother-in-law and immediately gained my sister and I a passel of relatives, some of whom didn't take too readily to kids that weren't blood kin. Uncle Bob was never like that, as I recall, but always a jolly party host, making sure everyone was having a good time, from the old biddies to the young uns. He was a great joker with a ready smile, ready to kid anyone nearby, most often his elegant wife, Amy.

Their house (in the small town where most of my dad's family came from) was magical for a city kid, with climbable trees in the backyard and lots of space to run. I remember a stream at the bottom of the garden, but maybe that's just wishful thinking. At any rate, I remember Uncle Bob as a good man.

He looks a bit serious in this picture, but rest assured he was just biding his time until the next wisecrack opportunity.

Posted by lynda at 11:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The date of the previous pix is 1988. Can you take a guess on this one?

Posted by lynda at 04:27 PM | Permalink

Here's a little present for my mom, now resting comfortably at home under Tracy's care. Apparently her bruises are quite spectacular. The pictures are a little bit of nostalgia, courtesy of my new tech toy, a film scanner. (Click images for larger versions.)

Posted by lynda at 05:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My anxiety yesterday proved to be unnecessary for Tiger, but it turns out my mother had a mishap, putting her in hospital for a couple of days. She did a face plant on the sidewalk outside the Y in Owen Sound and is recovering, thankfully, with no broken bones or lost teeth, just a few stitches in her lip and some bruises.

She called me this morning with the details and sounded fairly cheerful, terming the whole thing inconvenient. Regrettably, her glasses were broken, but reparable, so she must wait for their return before she can read. Given that this is her third stay at Grey Bruce Health Centre in as many months, she's probably made friends already with the entire staff.

Posted by lynda at 09:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Claire just reported from the vet that Tiger has come through her surgery and is doing well. It was a routine spaying procedure plus some stitches around her eyes, but all surgery is dicey for a bulldog, so we have been understandably anxious. Claire actually assisted and is looking after her as she comes around. Both will likely be home this evening; then our greatest difficulty will be keeping the other dogs from nosing in to see how she is.

Posted by lynda at 02:17 PM | Permalink

Last night's yoga class was all restorative poses -- very good indeed for my stiff joints and momentary relief from this weird pain I have been experiencing lately. It's like an extreme sunburn in the area of my radiation, although there is nothing visible on the skin. I suspect it's just a delayed side effect, even though my case manager didn't think it was related to treatment.

Avid blog readers may remember my comments about Paula Todd recently, who spoke in Kitchener. At that time, she told us about her upcoming interview with June Callwood, saying she had trouble with Callwood's decision to refuse treatment for the cancer she is now dying of. Mom, Claire and I have watched the interview and we all came to the same conclusion, that Callwood's choice was quite understandable and even acceptable. Not only is she 80 and has led a life of great achievement, but she seeks relief from the endless sadness of her son's death. I remember thinking that myself when I was first diagnosed, that if I didn't come through it, at least the heartbreak of losing my son (not to death, but with little hope of his return) would be over. Sometimes facing life takes more courage than facing death.

Posted by lynda at 03:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Bell and I are back from our brief sojourn with Mom and I'm already missing the crystalline quiet of Owen Sound evenings. I'm back with renewed resolve, however, to tackle the clutter monster here, as I dove into my mother's version of that briefly while I was there. We managed to secure slightly safer storage of her vast collection of photos, but there is much for her to do just to make sense of the huge pile. My own is much smaller, but needs similar close attention.

It's a very important bequest, the photographic history of a family. I need to lose no more time recording what I know of the pictures I have. Neither Mom nor I can tell all of the stories in our heads, but we can try to put meaning to the ephemera that we have to leave behind.

Posted by lynda at 08:20 PM | Permalink

Wireless has reached Owen Sound, so I am posting this from the Ginger Press bookstore and cafe, while Mom and I wait for our lunch. It's a grey, rainy day here. We tried to see the new museum, but found it closed (the exhibits anyway) to prepare for a Ghost Walk event this evening. Saw the promo movie anyway and now I want to move up here.

Posted by lynda at 01:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I spent yesterday in Kitchener at a conference called Living Well, Dying Well. Many of the attendees worked in palliative care, but I was there because I wanted to hear Dr. John Thornton, inventor of the Prayer Wheel, which I heard about during the Healing Journey course.

The early morning drive there was very calming, with the fields layered softly with fog and the trees showing dreamy fall colours through it. The first speaker was Paula Todd, promoting her book based on interviews she has done over the past five years with people who survived great adversity to become notably successful in their fields. She was a very natural speaker, engaging and inspiring. I bought the book, natch.

Next was the Thornton presentation, starting with his wife, Maria, leading us in creating our own mandala -- an interesting exercise, combining meditation with freeform drawing. The Prayer Wheel talk was helpful, just what I was looking for to use this self-healing device.

The afternoon presenter was refreshingly interesting, too. Kathleen Meadows is an expert on the Tarot. I learned a bit about this mystifying divination tool and we did a storytelling exercise using some of the cards. There's much more to know about this ancient collection and many ways to use it, far beyond the party trick aspect.

To close the day, we assembled in a room where they had just finished a drumming workshop. For the finale, we all got drums, shakers, you name it, and made a joyous noise together to celebrate the briefly assembled community. Each of us went home with a memento, like mine shown here.

Posted by lynda at 05:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Just listening to a piece on the radio about face transplants, which raises some issues about identity, not surprisingly. These are surgeries in which people, usually burn victims, get a new face from a dead donor. One person who said she would not want one explained that she is quite content with her scarred body. She had lived with it since a fire 21 years ago. Made me think about how we define and evaluate ourselves, so often in physical or visible terms. I am now defined as a cancer survivor -- not an obvious attribute. It colours a lot of my life, especially right now, while I am recovering from treatment. It will affect all the remaining years of my life, I hope, by reminding me how precious and tenuous life is. Makes me wonder who I am looking at on the street, on the subway, in the grocery store; are any of these people like me?

I know I look like my father, but also resemble my mother. We are the people we look like, to some degree. It's inescapable. That's a good thing, in some ways. We carry on the traits we inherit, adding to the delicious stew of life. But we struggle, don't we?, to be different, to add just a bit to the stew -- an original piquance.

Posted by lynda at 08:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I went back for a checkup at the hospital today and the news is all good. My blood counts are trending in the right direction with just a couple of numbers still below normal. My platelets are perfect, according to the doc. We all need something to be perfect, right?

It was another one of those glorious fall days, just crisp enough to sharpen the sunshine and make every step purposeful. I visited Webfeat and chatted about returning to work, but I'm not ready to set a date yet. The trip downtown took about four hours and left me flattened for about three. Clearly the essential balance these days is between effort and rest and it still takes me by surprise when I need so much of the latter.

Posted by lynda at 11:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I am suitably chastened this week. I had a day or two of acting like a normal person and quickly came down with an infection. Nature is still in charge, letting me know that patience is the virtue I need the most practice in. It's not serious -- good excuse to do more knitting and try harder at meditation.

My mom echoed this humble acceptance, too, as she has had a couple of health reminders lately. We share a laugh and the unspoken respect for that part of life's pattern not within our power to orchestrate.

I feel grateful again tonight, not least because I am sitting on my deck on a balmy evening doing this blog post, thanks to lovely wireless technology. I stop to sip an excellent single malt my daughter brought me from the UK for my birthday. Earlier I burned several CDs containing the book The DaVinci Code, so that she can listen on her upcoming trips away. And this is legal, folks. I paid for the audio book to put on my iPod, but the payment covers burning to CD as well. How virtuous is that!

Earlier today I chatted online with Steve, now in Korea pursuing his ambition to teach English. Now that's what this techno-stuff is really for, connecting with people. But fear not, I also wrote a letter this week, the paper kind with scribbled ink not quite in straight lines, to connect with a dear friend from the yoga and knitting retreat.

Posted by lynda at 10:17 PM | Permalink

My friend Marie has a blog for her adventures in the UK, where she has posted a list of likes and dislikes prompted by their current stay in Exeter. I'll borrow that and give you my own.

Weather: Definitely a love/hate subject but the only type I really hate is the cold. Rainy days are fine in moderation. I've been very lucky with sunny weather for trips away lately.

Traffic: It was breeze going downtown today for lunch with my friend Mary Lee, but the same trip is hateful most days during the extended rush hours. I'm trying to use music and books as a solution for the ugly drives. Bob and I are usually fortunate in our trips north -- it's not a typical cottage country drive with wall to wall cranky people.

Landscape: We are so careless here about tearing down old places -- I'm thinking about all the buildings lost in the nearby town of Streetsville. The UK has interesting old buildings around every corner (granted with all the maintenance issues that come with them). But what glorious natural landscapes we have! My trip to New York state was delightful for that as was our vacation last year in BC and Alberta. Got to get more of that into my life!

Posted by lynda at 03:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

For a couple of days I have been mulling over how to describe my experience at the yoga and knitting retreat. Words rush forth like fabulous, rejuvenating, enlightening, hilarious and oh so relaxing. The Omega Institute is a magical summer camp for those willing to leave ordinary life somewhere else. Our retreat group numbered about 20 -- women of all ages plus Robert, a passionate knitter who fearlessly and cheerfully made friends with all of us.

Our yoga leader, Cyndi Lee of OM Yoga (www.omyoga.com), with her fun, friendly style, fully accepted all of us where we were in yoga, but persistently encouraged us to go as far as we could. Her assistant, Sarah, tirelessly helped anyone she saw needing the slightest adjustment. Our knitting leader, Miriam Maltagliati of Knit New York (www.knitnewyork.com), along with her assistant guru Bert, led the newbies through knits and purls and inspired the rest of us to think beyond the pattern.

It was a superb week for me. I had a chance to push my body through limits and fill my days with pleasures I love, all on a wooded lakeside campus offering both solitude and good company. The retreat group bonded quickly, no matter what our life stage or knitting expertise. It was delightful to see others' projects take shape as the week progressed. We even had a field trip to a knitting shop nearby -- one of our number worked there and arranged for the shop to open one evening just for us.

On Thursday afternoon, the group did about an hour and a half of yoga, then with our knitting in hand, followed Cyndi out for a silent walking meditation to the cafe. We settled at tables to chat and knit, then suddenly a cake and candles appeared and Cyndi presented me with a handmade birthday card, inscribed by everyone with a personal message. While I was far away from my beloved family, I felt surrounded by love.

Now I've been back three days and I'm still feeling the peaceful serenity. May all of you have some of that in your lives!

Posted by lynda at 09:10 PM | Permalink

I'm off tomorrow on my New York state adventure, driving to Rhinebeck for the yoga and knitting retreat I planned a couple of months ago. The car will be loaded with water bottles, stretchy clothes, my yoga mat and loads of yarn. No canines this time -- they will be at their own retreat with their buddies at BRB. I know I'll miss them, but maybe I'll finally be able to meditate without interruption.

Claire and Mom left a couple of days ago for the family reunion in England. By tomorrow, Claire will be checking out the London Zoo with an eye to future job prospects, or just to commune with her beloved exotics.

Posted by lynda at 05:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

My last radiation treatment is done. That means I have had all the weapons that Canadian medical science currently provides brought to my defence against my type of cancer. And I think I've won. It has been a nine-month adventure unlike any I could have imagined.

It shouldn't surprise any of you dear readers that I have yet another gratitude list I want to share:
1. My daughter greeted me this afternoon with a bouquet of flowers to celebrate the end of my treatment. She herself has brought joy into every day since she came home from California.
2. My husband patiently circled the block today waiting for me to be done -- and it took an hour and a half because my unit at PMH was broken when I arrived. Bob has been a prince (of tea, of support, of love) throughout this whole thing. He says I should be invincible now because I am "pre-disasterized."
3. My mom called often to make sure I was OK and always stood ready to drop her whole abundant life in Owen Sound if I should need her closer. Ditto my sisters, who called and sent good wishes all the time. You all surrounded me with virtual hugs.
4. All the prayer people, some of whom I have never met, who continued to pray for me for months. How could I lose heart when I knew you all cared so much?
5. Last of all for today, I am grateful to the friend I ran into while waiting for treatment, who has undergone multiple rounds of chemo and radiation, with far worse side effects than I have had, and who now faces metastasized cancer. She smiled and greeted me cheerfully. I have so much to learn.

As for this weblog, I have decided to continue it, but with an expanded scope. There is no need to focus on my health all the time. I'd like to make it a forum for my new life, a way of keeping on track with the lessons of this year. It sounds simple enough: live each day fully, be kind to yourself and others. But if it were easy, we'd all live robustly to 100. As I try to figure it out, I'll share what I discover. As always, I welcome your comments.

Posted by lynda at 04:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Congrats to my lovely wife on the occasion of her last radiation treatment.

Click picture to enlarge.

Posted by rgdaniel at 03:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I had my last trip on the cancer wagon today as Bob will be my chauffeur tomorrow and Tuesday. It was smooth and fairly quick. On the trip down, I chatted again with Kim, a caregiver I had met on a previous trip, and we exchanged contact information. We may meet at Wellspring in the near future. I'll be glad to get back there, both for yoga and for relaxation class, and to see some of my friends.

The fatigue is slowly diminishing. I can come home from treatment and not have to lie down right away. This afternoon, I'm recklessly planning to drive to Square One for a haircut -- vanity is such a motivator!

Posted by lynda at 12:22 PM | Permalink

Claire drove me to PMH this morning and kept me company for blood work, treatment and my doctor visit. Everything went smoothly, starting with finding a parking spot that didn't require parallel parking -- yay! The blood lab was backlogged, but eventually I got done, then only waited a bit for my beam team to call my name. The doctor wait was shorter than usual, too. The doctor said my next visit will be a follow-up in October, when my blood counts will be checked again. The current counts are not bad and heading in the right direction.

Follow-ups from now on will be alternately with the gynecology oncologist and the radiation oncologist, every three months, to make sure I'm showing no signs of recurrence and am recovering normally from treatment. Imaging will not be part of that beyond the usual screening schedule because tumours must be a significant size to be seen and other symptoms are earlier indicators.

So now I just have to get through the final five treatments and begin to rebuild my feeble body by eating well and exercising (yeah, right!).

Posted by lynda at 12:49 PM | Permalink

Today marked the last of the major radiation treatments; starting tomorow I have seven more covering a smaller area. The beam tech said I won't feel an improvement in the side effects right away because the wide-area treatments continue to do their work for a while. Still, psychologically, I will look upon this as a beginning of my recovery from radiotherapy.

Bob and Claire have volunteered to drive me downtown for four of the remaining trips to PMH -- a very welcome gift!

Posted by lynda at 04:11 PM | Permalink

(Photo by RGDaniel. Click picture to enlarge.) A few days ago I looked down at the back of one of my garden beds and found this in full bloom -- a bulb I had planted months ago and forgotten.

Posted by lynda at 08:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Another ghastly week is done and I have two days to start feeling functional again. The fatigue is almost overwhelming now and the side effects on my insides are continuous, but still managable with drugs.

I had a couple of bad trips in the cancer wagon this week. Some people don't know that treatment can make you hypersensitive to smells; most people in the cancer club do know and they are careful about it. But I had one driver too lavish with perfume and I was trapped in a van without an openable window. Two days later it was a passenger who reeked of cigarette smoke. In both cases, I tried to relax and send calming thoughts to my churning stomach.

I have just four more days of the full treatment, then another seven of reduced radiation (smaller area), so I can now visualize the end to this adventure.

Posted by lynda at 02:28 PM | Permalink

Monday will be the halfway point of my treatments and thank goodness! This week has been difficult, with increasing fatigue every day that has a deadening impact on my outlook as well as my ability to do many things. The expected side effects on my digestive system are pretty much under control, as long as I am careful not to eat too much at once.

Yesterday's cancer wagon driver was a hiker, so we talked about the Bruce Trail Association and some good hiking spots he had found. It's hard for me to imagine hiking a trail again, but I know this incapacity will pass. I may even get to it before the snow flies, eh?

Posted by lynda at 04:03 PM | Permalink

Today's beam team was all female, so we had a fashion moment while all three admired my luscious new robe, purchased last night with the help of Sara, Bob's niece, who works at La Senza. It covers the same area as the standard hospital issue, but in white cotton/lycra with satin trim it feels yummy.

The trip was a record-setting six+ hours today because the cancer wagon had to go to Sunnybrook first and there was a nasty pileup on the 401. My driver was a photography buff, so we chatted about SLR versus digital and the passing of Cartier-Bresson. He told me the Mississauga Cancer Society has 60 drivers, but it's still not enough for all of the people who need rides (that's why we have to make stops at Sunnybrook). On the way home we picked up a little boy and his mom at Sick Kids. He looked to be about 4, rosy-cheeked and clutching a furry toy. His mom said they had been there all day, so it was no surprise that he fell asleep within minutes of getting in the car.

My beam team told me today that fatigue is proportional to the extent of radiation. The reason I am so exhausted is that I am being treated over a relatively broad area. Very glad to find that out so I know I'm not just being a wuss.

Posted by lynda at 06:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I went back to my daily treks today, accomplishing treatment 6 out of 30, and it was a bit gruelling. Not the treatment itself, which was only a bit delayed from the scheduled appointment and took more or less the usual amount of time, but the peripheral stuff. Like having the cancer society driver show up half an hour early and I was about to eat lunch, then getting to PMH and going to the blood lab first, only to find that there were no orders in the computer for the lab to act on. To correct this, I had to go to the radiation nurse's clinic, where they were much preoccupied with people suffering far more than me, and wait until someone would key in the orders to take my blood and test it. Then back upstairs (and I try to avoid the elevator so I'll get some exercise) to the lab where I didn't have to wait long and everyone was laughing and joking about Caribana (the Toronto event of the summer if you like Caribbean music, food, etc.).

Once I was back downstairs and checked in for treatment, I had to wait a while because my unit (the radiation machine) was listed as 30 minutes delayed. This information appears on a computer screen as you check in (via a bar-coded card) and it's very useful. Just the fact of being informed about the status makes you feel part of the process in a way that might be underestimated by those outside the experience. Consequently I got a lot of knitting done before they called me -- I'm in danger of finishing the first of the projects I bought for my September workshop.

I had to wait a very long time for the ride home, making the whole expedition a five-hour effort. Yikes! I look forward to tomorrow, when Bob will take me down to PMH.

Posted by lynda at 11:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Week one of radiation treatment is over and I have a three-day breather before I go back to the daily treks downtown. Now that I know what to expect and how the cancer society carpooling works, it's pretty easy to cope with. I feel much more fatigued than I expected and the nausea is definitely there but managed quite well with medication. I'm able to do a little of everything -- housework, walking my dog, gardening -- but not nearly as much as I want to.

I was thinking wistfully the other day about rollerblading, wondering if I would ever do it again. I think so, but ever so slowly at first. I am still feeling sore from a body slam to my lower leg from Silver (Claire's boxer) last Wednesday. He thought he could get to the top of the stairs faster by going through me.

Posted by lynda at 11:56 AM | Permalink

Radiography is my new full-time hobby, as it takes about half a day to get there and back, then the other half to recover. The treatment is pretty quick now and I'm developing close and personal relationships with the tech team (or should I call them the beam team?). Starting to recognize other patients, too, either my ride mates in the cancer society carpool, people I know from Wellspring or just others who show up every day like me.

Fatigue notwithstanding, I managed to get to yoga this evening. My teacher says to try to be "in present moment" during the practice and if I do that, I am painfully aware of how my body is reacting to the latest medical assault. Lots of stiffness and weak areas, especially on my right side, the one most affected by the cancer.

At least now I have some effective pharmaceuticals to fend off the nausea I was starting to feel on Monday. They work so well, in fact, that I downed a substantial sushi lunch with Claire today after treatment.

Posted by lynda at 09:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Okay, one down and (only!) 29 treatments left to go. It was interesting, if tedious, today at the below-ground radiation therapy centre at PMH. Two studly technicians spent considerable time lining up my raddled body to match green laser beams, before they fired the machine to radiate me first from above. Then the bed was raised and the whole machine swivelled to zap me from underneath.

The tedious part came afterwards, when I had to wait a while to see a doctor, yet another Clinical Fellow acting for my radiation oncologist, then I had to get blood taken. The major bad news for me today was that I have to do the blood thing twice a week -- and as some of you may know I am a complete wuss about that.

My cancer society drivers were cheerful and efficient both ways. The morning run was in a plush van donated by Rotary and driven by a Rotarian who also shares his yacht with Easter Seals kids for the annual charity sail in Port Credit.

I've been resting all afternoon, but still feel wiped out. Eating is already problematic, as I was warned, but yes, Mom, I had some dinner.

Posted by lynda at 06:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I have enjoyed my last week of freedom from treatment and now I'm ready for the next phase. A while ago I did a gratitude list and I feel the urge for another, so here goes:
1. Time and again, friends express their love and concern for me. These are old friends who drop me a line by email and new friends I have met since this odyssey began. I am grateful to all of them.
2. I was in a yarn shop today drinking in the colours and textures and feeling very lucky that I live in a safe country and have the means to go shopping for lovely things.
3. I rediscovered Beethoven this week. One doesn't lose lovely music entirely, but one can forget to enjoy it often.
4. Some of my roses are blooming. The one climbing rose that died still sits in my garden forlornly, but even in death it is a reminder of what I shall do next spring -- plant another!
5. I heard voices this week on family tapes made more than two dozen years ago. I smiled and even cried to hear dear people who have died or are very far away.
6. Some mornings I wake up with aches and pains or a complete lack of ambition, but hey, I wake up!

Posted by lynda at 06:50 PM | Permalink

I'm looking at what I consider my last week of freedom for a while without treatment. Radiation starts a week tomorrow. Not that it will tie me down completely, but it will structure my days until early September, just as the chemo treatments inserted their own rhythm every three weeks. Freedom to do anything I feel up to has been nice, but the fact remains I'm not up to much more than a couple of hours of errands or seeing friends most days. I tried a full-day retreat at Wellspring last Thursday and had to check out before 3 o'clock.

To celebrate the end of radiation, I plan to spend five days at a yoga centre in New York state, at a workshop called Yoga and Knitting. I'm still figuring out how to get there and would welcome ideas (or company!).

Posted by lynda at 11:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Today I had my last chemo treatment, the sixth in a series that started late in February. I viewed the whole process as a lifesaving necessity and I was very fortunate to experience minimal side effects. My overwhelming feeling today is gratitude, so I thought I would make a gratitude list:
1. In this age of long wait times, I did not have to wait long to start treatment. In fact, my case manager booked me as quickly as she could as soon as we knew the pathology info.
2. For every treatment, I had someone dear beside me. It was usually Bob, once my mom, and today my great friend Polly came to celebrate with Bob and I.
3. Every single medical professional I met was considerate, friendly and as efficient as institutional systems would allow. The chemo nurses were especially helpful and always treated me with respect.
4. When I asked my doctor today what my prognosis was, he said he considered me curable. After the radiation treatment, we will be vigilant against a recurrence, but he expressed optimism. This is particularly good news as the cancer I had has a poor survival rate.
5. Because of my cancer, I have spent far more time with my mother than I have for years, and it has been delightful. What's more, I have met several new friends through Wellspring and my self-healing efforts. People who really appreciate life are very nourishing to be around.
6. It's a beautiful day, my dog wags her tail frantically when I arrive home, and when I step out of the car, the incredible scent of the roses growing by my driveway reminds me of all of the world's precious gifts.

Posted by lynda at 07:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Today's CT scan at PMH was quick and easy. The two technicians did some preliminary sketching, then rolled me back and forth through the machine (it's like a giant doughnut). As a parting gift, I got seven tattoos, to save their sketch marks for the radiation treatment in a few weeks. They're quite inconspicuous, but as permanent as any other tattoo. I guess if there is a bikini in my future, I should consider some more artistic embellishment on a couple of them.

Posted by lynda at 06:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Tomorrow afternoon I will be scanned, CT-wise, by the radiation department people at PMH, in preparation for my treatment to begin in several weeks. No preparation to do for this one and I will drive myself downtown. Not much else to report for now -- still feeling OK, just very fatigued most days, especially after any significant effort.

Posted by lynda at 07:41 PM | Permalink

Our Relay for Life was a tremendous success! Thanks so much to all my beloved friends and family who helped me raise over $700 of the fantastic total of well over $250,000 for the Burlington event. I walked the first lap and the last -- the Survivor's lap and the Victory lap -- as well as many in between, almost enough to burn off the calories of all the stuff I ate. I felt as if I had every one of you beside me cheering me on. The track was lined with luminaries, candles in memory or in honour of cancer patients, giving us all lovely reminders all night of why we were there. My team was terrific and we all had a great time. The weather was ideal, no rain, only a bit chilly overnight, but we were snuggled under blankets when we weren't walking. Thanks again to everyone who supported me in this -- it really means a lot to me.

Posted by lynda at 07:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Yesterday's chemo treatment went fine -- only one more to go in three weeks' time! My CT scan results were deemed OK by Dr. Rosen. They showed some suspicious areas, but he said these were likely scar tissue. The scan report also mentioned metallic clips in my pelvic area! News to me and I didn't read that until I had left the clinic -- I will ask about these at my next visit. Given that no one seemed alarmed by the statement, I'm guessing these are supposed to be there.

Posted by lynda at 10:12 AM | Permalink

I've got two important things happening this week. Tomorrow is Chemo 5, my second last treatment if all goes as planned. With any luck, I'll also find out the results of the CT scan I had last Thursday. It was an interesting, not unpleasant experience. The barium drink that you prep with is not nearly as bad as I had heard and the procedure itself takes only minutes. It was similar to but much simpler than the MRI I had months ago. Alas, no CD to take home this time, so I can't see the pix myself.
The second thing is the Relay for Life event, a 12-hour relay starting Friday at 7 pm. Our team met last Friday and came up with a name: Cure Seekers in Sneakers. We are 10 women, many of us survivors of various cancers, led by my yoga teacher. I've had lots of generous support pledged from readers of this blog -- thank you all! If anyone would like to add their pledge (it's not too late!), please go to my relay page and follow the directions. I'll be tripping around the track all night with my team mates at Bronte Creek Park, glad to have the chance to raise money for cancer research.

Posted by lynda at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Today we learned the pros and cons of radiation treatment and I have decided to go for it. Apparently tomorrow's CT scan is irrelevant for this decision (unless something totally unexpected shows up) and I will have a slightly different scan next month in prep for the treatment to start at the end of July. As a bonus, I'll be getting some small tattoos to guide the radiation people, but Bob says they likely won't be butterflies or anything cool like that.
It will be six weeks of daily treatment with weekends off, with side effects somewhat like chemo, but perhaps not as severe. Frankly, the biggest problem I see with this is the cost of parking at the hospital.
Deciding on the treatment required considerable faith in the unknown, because my cancer is too rare to have shown up in research studies that would clearly support it. On the other hand, there is enough logical related information from other cancers to make me feel it's worth the side effects, both short and long term. And once again, I had a feeling of confidence in the people at PMH. And I have faith in myself.

Posted by lynda at 03:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

One of my favourite quotes is "if you're going through hell, keep going." It wasn't exactly hell last week, but I had more than a few dark moments. Things are better now, both physically and mentally, so I am looking forward to the coming week's events. First up is my introduction to the radiation oncologist at Princess Margaret Hospital on Wednesday. The next day I'll have a CT scan. Presumably, the radiation expert will consider the results of the scan before advising me on further treatment (or maybe the options are obvious -- who knows?). I don't expect to know the results until the following week, ideally in time for my next visit to Dr. Rosen on Chemo Day 5.
My new roses are doing fine, all except the climber, which is ever so slowly coming to life. Even the rose I moved several weeks ago with Polly and Sally's help is looking very happy in its new spot. Reminds me of another quote: Bloom where you are planted.

Posted by lynda at 10:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My fatigue is very, very real this time and it's a drag. I have been trying to do a few things each day, including my healing course downtown on Thursdays, but I find I hit the wall very suddenly and have to sit or lie down immediately. I reason, however, that my body is using all available energy to battle the cancer, so I need to let it. I have managed to plant my new rose bushes; the rest of the garden will have to take care of itself for a few days.

Posted by lynda at 02:37 PM | Permalink

After many days of silence, I finally have some good news to report: my fourth chemo treatment was done today. It was a little more uncomfortable than the previous ones, but only marginally, and now I feel just a little tired. Well OK, a fair bit tired. It's a beautiful day and I came home and enjoyed the sun with Mom on the deck. She and I have just returned from a delightful week visiting Claire for her graduation from Exotic Animal Training and Management in California. The star student herself will be home here in a few days.
On such a glorious gift of a day, we think fondly of Selwyn, who died yesterday. He greeted every day with a passion and enthusiasm some of us found hard to understand, given the immense physical challenges he faced over several years. Bob and I had the pleasure of a short visit last September and a cheery Hi folks! from him. What a lovely man. I am grateful to have his example of how to live. To Maureen, my dear cousin, much love.

Posted by lynda at 06:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I did two frivolous things today. The first was to buy an iPod, which enables me to carry around my entire collection of music in a container about the size of a pack of cards. To celebrate, I walked all three dogs separately. It was a nice day anyway and the added dimension of great tunes to move to just made it a complete pleasure. I'm hoping this is the answer to my need for more exercise.

The second thing was to go to a Look Good, Feel Better class at Wellspring. It is essentially a makeup class, complete with loads of products donated by major companies, followed by a wig demonstration. There were several volunteers on hand and we all had a giggle or two.

My current reading includes "Cancer as a Turning Point" by Lawrence LeShan. He advises me to do more of what turns me on and less of what turns me off. Hence the iPod purchase -- I love music to dance to, stitch to, walk and run to. The makeup class would not have made it to my list of what turns me on, but I had no trouble enjoying it. It was the playfulness of it that appealed, the "just because I can" factor.

Once again, I am grateful to all the people who are helping people living with cancer, all those big companies that we often criticize for one thing or another, but who think it's a good thing to ship their stuff to cancer centres all over the place so people like me can feel better. And I did.

Posted by lynda at 10:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My cold symptoms seem to have vanished. Just in time for an excellent gardening day! I had two garden angels with me today, Polly and Sally, who did not hesitate to pitch in for raking compost and transplanting a couple of shrubs that needed new homes.
This morning's relaxation class was very exciting. I discovered that two women I know from the class will be joining me at the second level of the Healing Journey program starting in May. Furthermore, another woman attending today's class was among those in the study I mentioned in a previous post, in which 22 people with terminal cancer were followed and evaluated according to how involved they became with self-healing activities. I felt surrounded by people enthusiastically dedicated to life.

Posted by lynda at 05:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Germs finally caught up with me yesterday (we think they're from Bob) and I am trying to fend off a cold. Bob had it pretty severely on the weekend: sore throat, sneezing, coughing, etc. So far, I just have that itchy feeling in my throat and a headache now and then, not enough symptoms to interfere with most things. Of course, this is my least favourite time to get it because my immune system is at its lowest, but perhaps it will spur those little white cells to multiply faster. I saw a picture of the white cells I need lots of at yesterday's Healing Journey session. The idea is to visualize in some meaningful way the action of the white cells against the cancer cells, so that you can encourage your own healing.
Mom went home yesterday to count her own daffodils and next time she is back we will be heading south to see Claire's graduation.

Posted by lynda at 08:08 AM | Permalink

When I spoke with my case manager, Heidi, on Chemo day, she was commenting about how people often think that after cancer treatment, you can then move on with your life. She said that, because it is such a life-changing event, and because of the constant possibility of recurrence, it is more accurate to think about "navigating" through your new life of living with cancer. I like that. It matches my feeling of needing new navigational skills, new life skills really.
Some of those skills I am beginning to get from the Healing Journey course that I went to yesterday and the Journaling class I went to today. Both are designed to prompt me to evaluate carefully the way I want to live from now on.

Posted by lynda at 08:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Mom came with me today as primary caregiver and excellent conversationalist for my third chemo treatment, giving Bob a well-deserved break. It was drizzling rain, but not too cold. All went as planned, but it took most of the day. Mind you, we took time to walk over to Baldwin Street for our Chinese bakery nosh, an essential ritual for this outing. As before, I was feeling good going into the treatment and am still fine now, albeit tired. My white blood cell count is low, as expected, but still at an acceptable point. Three more treatments to do -- just about halfway there!

Posted by lynda at 07:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

This morning I went to the first of four sessions of The Healing Journey, Introduction, run by an esteemed psychologist at Princess Margaret Hospital for cancer patients and caregivers. Its premise is that one can harness the mind in various ways to enable and encourage physical healing, and to enhance quality of life. The most compelling piece of information I got today is the results of a study done with 22 people who took the program ten years ago. All were terminally ill with metastatic cancer; all were given about a year to live. The study looked at the level of involvement in their own healing for each person, through the progam and other activities. All outlived their prognosis; the most involved lived much longer and two are still alive today. Sounds like a good bet to me.
As elsewhere, I also learned about what other people are facing, some of them inoperable or untreatable cancers, or cancer that has returned after years of remission. Once again, I count my blessings and come home to count the crocuses in my front garden.

Posted by lynda at 01:50 PM | Permalink

One of the little known side effects of my cancer treatment is the klutz effect: dropping things, fuzzy thinking, tripping over cracks in the sidewalk. I experienced the latter yesterday when I took a flying leap into the parking lot just outside the post office. A kind person helped me up and once I deduced I had only suffered a skinned knee, I was on my way again. I guess it's part of the chronic fatigue because I really wasn't this clumsy before. No, really!
Just one week to go until my next chemo treatment. so my task this week is to build my white blood cell count. Outside of minimizing stress, anybody know how to do that?

Posted by lynda at 08:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

As expected the first day after chemo, I am quite tired. Actually fatigued to the point of stupidity -- hard to think straight and oddly enough, even talking logically is sometimes a struggle. (Like I can blame that on chemo, eh?) I spent the day puttering around the house and reading, took a very short walk in the drizzle with Bob and dogs, then went to yoga class with Mom. This was a very good idea because it restored my energy quite nicely so that I didn't just collapse halfway through the evening.
In case you're wondering about the title for today's post, it's because tea is deadly for the first three days after chemo and only allowed in small amounts after. It impairs the flushing process so necessary to get the drug out of my body once it has done its work. So alas, I must forgo one of life's great pleasures for a short while.
I have signed up to do the Relay for Life, a cancer fundraiser in which teams walk, run, jog around a track over 12 hours on June 4-5. Anyone can pledge their support for my effort at www.cancer.ca. Select Relay for Life and the link for pledges, then put in my name and select Burlington as the location. I've had a fabulous response already from my family and several of my co-workers at WebFeat. All contributions very welcome -- thanks!

Posted by lynda at 09:48 PM | Permalink

Today I had my second chemo treatment and all went well, although it has been a long day. There was a long gap between the blood lab and doctor visit and the treatment itself, so we were in a packed waiting room complete with daytime TV for more than two hours. Patients are offered pagers, so I took one and went for a walk to the main floor patient info centre, where I ran into a woman I knew from Wellspring. After my treatment, Bob and I stopped for our usual Chinese bakery lunch, then headed home, where Mom was dogsitting.
I have dates for my next two treatments, so I can now make plans to see Claire's graduation in California.

Posted by lynda at 04:55 PM | Permalink

I haven't done a posting for days because there is really nothing astounding to report. I have had almost normal energy this week -- mind you, I'm not doing a lot -- so I have done a few things to make my home space more logical and usable. Mom and I will be taking in a play this weekend, another normal activity I have looked forward to for weeks.
In my journaling class today at Wellspring, we discovered dream interpretation, a method of working with a dream or an unresolved situation that I found very interesting and useful. This class series has been one of the most helpful things I have ever done. Only one more class left, but I will have several resources to go on with besides what we have done together. A while ago, I mused to myself that I needed some kind of instruction book for rebuilding my life now that I am living with cancer. Now I have at least a beginner's manual.
Some sad news from Claire today. A dear friend who is a classmate in California died suddenly. Only 25, in apparently good health, she was gone in minutes in her own bed of heart failure.
If you have any sunshine in your life, rejoice. If you have shadow, find someone to hug.

Posted by lynda at 03:38 PM | Permalink

I continue to have more energy than last week, but doing a few basic things soon catches up with me, so it's time for the couch again. I waffled about going to Wellspring for a relaxation session, but ended up going and was exceedingly glad I had made the effort. There were four people there I hadn't met before, each with her own story, and the group just gelled with everyone caring for each other in whatever way we could. After the session, we all gathered round the front door to greet Jonathan Dockman (www.canadacrusade.com) who had just arrived on his cross-Canada run that started in Newfoundland last August. He and his Dad are from Airdrie, Alberta, and are doing this fundraiser basically from scratch with very little outside help. Optimists Clubs are taking the donations. He is an 18-year-old kid wanting to do something meaningful in honour of his Aunt Mary Beth (who has uterine cancer). I gave him a hug and my thanks as I left.

Posted by lynda at 05:00 PM | Permalink

The spring tease we had a few days ago is a vague memory, but I am cozy in my cocoon, occupied in the last few days with purging files -- both paper and electronic -- in a pre-spring cleaning. Janine and Doug braved the chill yesterday to come over and be volunteer dogwalkers, taking the canine kids for a romp around the park. I'm still feeling pretty good as long as I have rest breaks often enough. Itching to get out to start cleaning up the garden, but until it's warmer, there's plenty to reorganize inside. I'm trying to let go of things more freely, keeping only what's truly important to me, but there are always degrees of importance, aren't there?

Posted by lynda at 12:18 PM | Permalink

Wet snow outside, but as long as it doesn't smother my snowdrops, I'm OK with it. They poked up their slender noses a day or so ago and I have been cheering them on every day since. I've been sticking close to home as planned to keep my exposure to germs as little as possible; I confess it's a dandy excuse to avoid grocery shopping. Mom and Bob stocked the house yesterday; now Mom's back in her cozy home in Owen Sound and Bob is back at the condo, leaving Evan and I to enjoy tonight's leftover roast beef -- which I cooked yesterday. Yes, folks, I'm back in the kitchen now and then. Feeling pretty good for the last few days, gradually getting a bit more energy.

Posted by lynda at 08:05 PM | Permalink

Today I went to the first of four journaling classes at the cancer centre, Wellspring. What a revelation! It was led by a woman who uses journaling techniques in various settings, including corporate problem-solving. Its value in a healing situation is supported by a study done on a group of cancer and chronic disease patients, which found that it provided improvements to the immune system when practised consistently, even over a short time. I found the class exercises very intense and clearly of value. I had been wondering what I could do about the lowered immunity I am now experiencing, aside from eating well and resting, so this is an opportune idea for me. Keeping a diary is not new for me, but this is essentially different in approach, very much geared to accessing the stresses that may impair my healing and getting them out of harm's way.

Posted by lynda at 10:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

(Click to enlarge)
Lynda models the finally-completed so-called "sweater from hell" ... looks swell!

Posted by rgdaniel at 05:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It's two days after chemo 1 and I still feel pretty good. If not for some very stressful family issues, this would be a piece of cake, but even those are beginning to improve somewhat.
Bob and Mom continue to take excellent care of me -- princess pampering is back! The last two days of sunshine have done wonders for my outlook also.

Posted by lynda at 01:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Today we went down to Princess Margaret Hospital for my first chemotherapy treatment, not a gruesome experience, rather one that left both Bob and I feeling fairly positive. We got lots of info about the chemo itself plus the additional miracle drugs that we hope will mitigate the expected side effects. The whole thing is done intravenously over about an hour in a pleasant daycare area full of colour and light. Lots of paintings on the wall and sunshine pouring in the windows. I was told that losing my hair is unlikely, but I haven't given up entirely on the plan for a spiky purple wig. My next treatment is scheduled for March 23.
My Case Manager is Heidi, the RN whom I met already when I first consulted with my surgeon, Dr. Rosen. She spent considerable time explaining everything and answering our questions and she will be my lifeline in the coming weeks if anything ugly comes up. Her most important message to me today: remember why we are doing this, so go out there and enjoy living!
Now I'm home, curled up on the couch, with dogs for company and my attentive husband nagging me already to keep up the fluids. (Whereas he has been renowned as the Prince of Tea, for the moment he is the Prince of Juice.)
And, oh yes, I'm counting my blessings. One of those is my mom, who came back from Owen Sound yesterday to help things run smoothly.

Posted by lynda at 03:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I finally got the news today about my next stage of treatment. It will be chemotherapy, beginning this Friday and continuing for many weeks at three-week intervals. At about the fourth treatment, I will consult with a radiation oncologist to determine if radiation is to be added next.
Because the cancer I have (Uterine Papillary Serous Carcinoma) is prone to recurrence and is already invasive, it is treated quite aggressively.

Posted by lynda at 03:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Today is the first day more or less without princess support. Yes, folks, I made my own tea this morning, but, yeah, I went back to bed with it. Surrounded by snoozing dogs, I launched into software upgrade, Day 1, from the comfort of flannelette sheets and jammies. I am aiming for the end of the week to accomplish my move to Panther on my trusty Mac Powerbook. That's what you call a no-pressure deadline, I hope.
As a counterpoint to the tech morning, I spent much of the afternoon blocking the sweater from hell and overhauling my cross-stitch cache. The latter dates from the early 90s and previous. It was quite a revelation. I did a lot of stitching that has never seen the light of day simply because I didn't take the final step of mounting, framing, or whatever. It will be interesting to come up with ways to get this stuff out of the plastic bags.
Oh yes, you probably want to know how I am feeling: On a scale of 10, about 7 (could be 8.5 if it wasn't a snowy February).

Posted by lynda at 08:06 PM | Permalink

Today is my four week anniversary of surgery, the point at which, according to my surgeon, one is more or less recovered, but one needs another two weeks to regain stamina. I concur with the more-or-less-recovered description, as I can now do most things normally, like minor grocery shopping, going to relaxation class (hey, that shouldn't be hard work), other small errands, even all of these things in the same day as receiving visitors (albeit very good friends). I end the day feeling tired, but very gratified and fortunate.

Today my Mom went home and I must say a word or two about this exceptional person. Ever had a guardian angel? Well, she was right here with me when I needed her to be, and was an excellent companion, caregiver and friend. Thanks, Mom, and I love you. I know you will be glad to get home, but I also know you would be here within hours if things get serious again. Even if they don't, when you come next time, you're going to get severely greeted by your grand-dogs.

Posted by lynda at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We had hoped that today's visit to the doctor would give us more info on what treatment comes next, if anything, but it was not to be. Dr. Rosen was unavailable and my pathology report was not ready yet. His substitute viewed my incision, indicated it was healing well and said goodbye. It will likely be at least another week before any more information is available, according to Dr. Rosen's assistant. So it's back to the monster knitting project for now.
Mom is going home on Friday for a much-needed rest and Bob has declared me fully cured until he hears otherwise. I guess that means no more princess pampering (sigh).

Posted by lynda at 01:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I left the premises yesterday for an assignation with my funny Valentine. We decamped to our condo in the city for a lazy afternoon, followed by dinner with our friends, Brian and Jo-Anne, who very kindly waited in line for a table at the chosen restaurant (which doesn't take reservations, but is very popular). They called when our table was imminent and we were only a few minutes away. Afterwards, Bob and I returned to the condo for a quiet evening watching Jim Carrey. Bulletin: laughing is now OK with the patient. So bring on the jokes!

Posted by lynda at 03:13 PM | Permalink

This posting is in response to complaints of scarcity from some of my avid readers -- who knew?! Still not many rivetting tales to tell from the recuperation centre, but here's a nugget or two.
Mom and I were back to yoga tonight, feeling just a bit more flexible than last week, I think. In the last two days, I have been daring enough to take on Revenue Canada (by phone), update my household finances, and finish a knitted scarf that refused to behave. The earlier knitted project, one with a deadline, was shipped out to the recipient on Monday. Got lost for an hour or so yesterday on a quotations site. My favourite of the day: Cancer got me over unimportant fears, like getting old. ~ Olivia Newton-John. OK, it's a bit black, but Olivia conquered breast cancer ten years ago and currently looks like a million on tour in the US. Cheers, everybody!

Posted by lynda at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The days slip by now with tiny bits of progress toward wellness. On Thursday, Marie arrived with one arm full of flowers and the other full of Amelia. Ian arrived later and we had a nice visit complete with tea and animal cookies. Friday, Mom and I decided not to risk the bad roads to go to Wellspring for our relaxation class. Polly braved the weather nonetheless and joined us for a relaxing afternoon by the fire, contributing a pile of books to my efforts to fight boredom. Today's adventure was a trip to the hairdresser, then it was back to the sofa to finish the current knitting project. Pretty thrilling, eh?

Posted by lynda at 08:57 PM | Permalink

Today saw some minor milestones for me, just in time, before I go completely bananas. Ambition returns ahead of capability, it seems. I drove my mom and I to the Chinese grocery store for some watercress and a few other things. Do you know how wonderful watercress is as a diet item?
I made my own lunch, then spent the afternoon knitting to rest up for tonight's yoga class at the cancer support centre. It was a very satisfying class, just demanding enough to make me feel like I am tired tonight for a good reason.

Posted by lynda at 10:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Hello Folks, this is Webcrone, or caregiver #1 for Lynda while she is incapacitated because she is knitting at the moment.
Lynda was a little slow getting up this morning but then she is allowed, don't you think? Each day is an improvement, however, and her determination to overcome is inspiring. Pain killers have been pared to a minimum and she is careful not to lift anything heavier than a fork to her lips.
Yes, she is doing justice to my cooking, mostly, although I would like to see her eat more.
Patience, I tell myself, she is making progress.
We have learned how much watercress is good for you so tomorrow we plan to go to a nearby market called Bigland, a store that has an abundence of fresh produce, to get some.
The sudden thaw has precipitated several drips in the kitchen thanks to a leaky roof. Thank goodness for yogurt containers and lots of towels to catch the moisture.
Thanks for all your good messages, through this page and by email.
Doreen

Posted by marie at 08:23 PM | Permalink

I've spent a quiet Saturday today to balance yesterday's adventures. We began Friday morning with a visit from the plumber who came to deal with a blocked drain in the basement. My task was easy, just stay in bed with canines out of harm's way while my mother oversaw the work. Then we set off for Wellspring, a cancer support centre in Oakville, where Mom and I both enjoyed a relaxation session with several other cancer patients and caregivers. A nice lunch out on the way home, then a rest until the final effort of the day -- a visit to my family doctor to shed my surgical staples, ouch! Having survived all that, I feel quite ready to welcome visitors now beyond immediate family.

Posted by lynda at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yesterday was all about pain, hence no post from the patient. I suspect it was, at least partly, my punishment for some reckless laughter Tuesday night. Contrary to the common belief that laughter is good medicine, in my case, belly laughs are to be avoided at all costs, at least until I heal some more. Today things look brighter and feel better. It's a treat to be snug inside in January, now accompanied by an exotic tropical anthurium from my daughter -- it reminds me of Hawaii -- and a beautiful arrangement that sings of spring with tulips, lilies, roses and loads more from the McKays. Wishing you all blooming visions.

Posted by lynda at 01:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Hello folks!
Yes, it's me, the patient, finally posting my own update. Many, many thanks to all of you for your messages, comments, calls, flowers, prayers and just good vibes you sent along to help me through this. My continuous gratitude goes to Bob, the best web guy and husband, and my mom, simply the best mom, who are still taking very good care of me at home.
Next comes the really boring part, several weeks of doing almost nothing, but I can curl up with a warm doggy by the fire and read a backlog of postings from the EAC discussion list if I get desperate. Regrettably, I can't use the webcam yet because -- would you believe it -- the beta of iChat expired! Looks like I'll have to take the plunge and go to Panther -- now there's a timewaster, upgrading software. Love to all, Lynda

Posted by lynda at 12:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Monday Morning, Day Four:

Lynda called early this morning to say that they're sending her home today. Who knew? Apparently they were just waiting for the worst possible weather forecast. So I'll be braving the squalls to get her home safely by this afternoon.

Update: home and safe by 11am, patient is sipping comfortably... I expect you'll hear more from her and less from me in this space, now that she has access to the Internet again.

Posted by rgdaniel at 08:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Sunday, third day in the hospital.

Just returned with Doreen from visiting our favourite patient. And delighted to say she's doing better than ever. She's been prowling the corridors, at first with her "Christmas Tree" rolling IV stand, but most recently she's not so encumbered, the IV drip (and self-administering morphine) now being discontinued/disconnected, in favour of Percosets on request.

She was in the shower when we arrived, and feeling better than ever.

However, she's still very weak, talks very quietly, and needs to nap frequently. Technically, she's still on "clear fluids" but has managed to cadge a bit of milk from her roomie, so as not to be forced to drink her tea black.

She has quite a row of staples which she refuses to show us. They'll be in a week or ten days, we think.

No word on when she'll get sprung, and at this point she's still not up to visitors. Partly because she thinks she looks bad, but she totally doesn't, she looks great.

Stay tuned, thanks for reading. Comments welcome -- to add a comment or read others, click the "Comments" link below any entry.

Bob.

Posted by rgdaniel at 02:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Saturday, Day Two at the hospital, and a few milesones to mention:

(1) When I arrived this morning Lynda was just being helped back into bed -- she'd been encouraged to sit up in the chair by the window, where she took in the view of Queen's Park. A milestone indeed, but left her whacked for a while.

(2) Had to be unplugged for this next milestone, but with a little help from the nurse and the husband, Lynda managed a quick trip to the loo. She was left to her own devices once she got there. And again, naptime followed shortly after.

(3) Lunchtime arrived, and with it -- comprising the first sustenance besides ice chips -- lunch! Tomato soup, apple juice, jello. Ambrosia!

(4) Served with lunch, but being assigned its own milestone due to its dramatic effect on the patient, came her first post-op cup of tea. You could actually see it energizing and reviving her. Her words after the first sip, "Ahhh, that's it, I'm gonna live!"

(5) Lynda was able to speak briefly with her mum on the phone, and also with Evan. We tried to get Claire to call, but evidently she had trouble at that moment. Probably by now they've connected. Again, each conversation is work, and precipitates a nap.

(6) Before I left, I offered to help her up to her feet, which they encourage to speed recovery and reduce the chance of complications. Once that was accomplished, we enjoyed our first post-op slow dance. Now I'm gonna live...

Thanks for all your good wishes -- if you're reading this, you're helping.

Bob

Posted by rgdaniel at 05:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The alarm went off at 5:30 this morning, after not quite enough sleep. Lynda was on no-fluids-whatsoever since midnight (and no food for two days) so I felt bad gulping down a cup of tea in front of her before we left.

We arrived promptly at 7:00 am, as scheduled, and were passed from hand to hand, room to room, answering similar questions multiple times (which is somehow both annoying and reassuring). I finally had to leave her in the clutches, er, care of the system by about 8:50, 10 minutes before the surgery was due to start.

It was close to 1pm before I got word in the waiting room that she had left recovery and was in her room, and had the doctor been to speak to me? Ah, no, he had not. After waiting the suggested 10 more minutes (5 minutes really, I was anxious by now) I raced off to find her room, but nobody was around at first who could tell me what her room number was -- so I stalked the halls like a madman until someone pointed me to her room. Then of course they "weren't quite ready for me yet" so I had to cool my jets in the waiting room again for 10 minutes.

Ya, ya, poor me, what about Lynda?

Well, I was pre-visualizing the worst, and was therefore pleased that she looked not bad at all, lovely as ever in fact. I'd have married her all over again at that moment. It was very very good to see her.

The surgeon stopped by later (actually I met him in the corridor, not sure he was even headed to our room) - apologized for not letting me know how it went -- he apparently forgot.

How it went, he says now, was great. The MRI and the pathology suggested -- and the surgery confirmed -- that it was a different "type" of tumour than they thought, a type which is less inclined to spread beyond the uterus. And indeed it did seem confined to within the uterus, though very large. Along with the uterus, lymph nodes in the area were also removed -- these looked okay, but will need to be studied, as will some other bits they took out, to help determine if there was any spread of the cancer.

This post-op pathology wil determine whether radiation is needed. We won't know that for at least three weeks, and she would be sufficiently recovered from the surgery for at least three weeks, so we'll cross that bridge down the river, as it were. My feeling is that radiation is still likely, but a little less likely than we thought before.

Lynda was deeply asleep when I left her this evening, had been for an hour or so, and hopefully will be through the night. Prior to that she was responsive, coherent, and did I mention lovely? But very very weak and in a fair bit of pain. She has a little button she can press to dispense her own morphine, a small dose every five minutes at most. She said it was all she could do to just press the button. I gave her ice chips (all she was allowed for now) at frequent intervals; she would swim up into consciousness and sink down again fairly regularly.

She has a phone if she feels up to calling out, but I don't expect that will happen until at least late tomorrow or perhaps Sunday. I don't expect she'll be up to visitors either, unless her stay becomes more protracted than we expect, as her strength recovers.

I'll be back in to see her tomorrow (Saturday), and will post any new developments here.

Bob.

Posted by rgdaniel at 07:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Lynda is forbidden from eating solid food until after her surgery, which is still on tap for tomorrow (Friday) morning at 9am. As an act of solidarity, I'm joining her in the clear-liquids-only diet, more or less (milk in my tea). Not sure I'll make it through dinner (or lack of), but we'll see.

Next post here, by me, will be after the surgery. Some of you may hear news by phone before I get a chance to update the site, but do check here too as there may be more details to share.

Meanwhile, this (only slightly modified) MRI screenshot may be of interest to the inquisitive medical mind. (click here)

Posted by rgdaniel at 04:17 PM | Permalink

Today is my last day for regular food for a few days, so Mom and I went out for lunch -- thanks, Mom! -- and it was very hard to select something decadent, yet healthy. I feel a bit reckless given my situation, but, on the other hand, I feel the need to preserve what health I do have as I'm going through so much trouble to fix what isn't healthy.

Posted by lynda at 03:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Check back here from time to time for all the news that's fit to print about Lynda's current level of fitness. I may even post one of her MRI screenshots, but have to clear that with the patient...

Posted by rgdaniel at 04:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)