Eat, Drink and Merry Ho, Ho, Ho!

Because nothing says Christmas like fleecy
HoHoHo's and massive Rudolph slippers

Wow that was fast. Another Christmas done and dismantled piece-by-piece and packed away for the next 49 weeks. I swear it zooms by faster each year. No sooner do you take a moment to come up for air, scoff your first mince pie and savour the satisfaction of wrapping that last gift when... WHOOOOOSH.....the shreds of paper, boxes and tags are already out by the kerb, neglected and rained on, pending the city recycling truck. A few drinks and a burbling of Auld Lang Syne in-between and SLAM....you're back at your desk where jingle bells is quickly replaced by the sedentary and somewhat melancholy keystrokes of catching up on emails. Yup, that's all folks! Nothing more to see here.

Despite the fact it seemed to come and go in a blur of baubles, eggnogg and Quality Street, we had quite a lovely Christmas and a largely uneventful New Year with family, friends, felines and the love of too much eating, drinking and general merriment. We always say we shouldn't go so crazy on the chocolate treats and delicious nibbles (that we deny ourselves all year) and yet....miraculously...we nevertheless seem to end up with way too much. Then we proceed to kid ourselves with that ol' chestnut "We'll never eat all this, you know", or "Let's just save the extra cookies and Ferrero Rocher", but where there's a gob there's a way and it all manages to disappear before too long, somehow.

It was on Christmas Eve 2002 that Lorne completely surprised me by passing an early gift across the table just before dessert at Raincity Grill. A diamond ring was literally not what I was expecting to find in there and, after several flabbergasted, wide-eyed and red-cheeked "Oh my God"s I said "Yes" and so began what has been a further 10 wonderful years. We usually sort of celebrate it in some small way each year, especially being Christmas Eve n'all, and a couple of years ago Lorne booked us a surprise stay at the lovely Hotel Le Soleil in downtown Vancouver (the same hotel we stayed at on our wedding night in 2004). It was such a charming, pre-Christmas treat, going for dinner and feeling so wonderfully spoiled, that this year I decided to do the same (amen to having had a few weeks' work before Christmas.)

As luck would have it, the Sutton Place Hotel emailed me a last-minute deal that I couldn't resist so I booked us for Dec. 22nd where we enjoyed a fancy-pants room, a quick swim down in the spa pool, a stint in the hottub and a cheeky cocktail before heading out to a delicious dinner at Cin Cin's restaurant on Robson Street (thanks Lorne). From start to finish it was such a nice evening, a perfect date night and there's a lot to be said for an overnight getaway, even when it's virtually on your own doorstep. 

As for the remaining blur of the holidays:

• We stayed home Christmas Eve (watching Bad Santa - the caustic, crude but very funny antithesis of your average Christmas movies)
• Apparently I was really good this past year because Santa generously left a sleek and sexy Nikon 55-300mm VR zoom lens under the tree for me. Wohooo, nice one 'Santy Claus'! I've been wanting one for a couple of years (it's all about the Vibration Reduction when it comes to a good zoom lens and my current Sigma lens is driving me crazy) but I know they're not cheap (and we set ourselves a $ limit this year) so I kept it as my secret wish for if/when I get enough cash but never put it on my list. So don't be fooled by that fluffy red suit and jolly ol' laugh - Mister Santa has his finger firmly on the pulse and he really does know just what you're thinking. Guess I'd better get out there and start snapping some well-focussed shots, stat! (If ever the rain stops!)
• Call us saddoes but Lorne and I quite enjoyed tormenting the cats with their gifts (spritzed with catnip beforehand, of course) and, for perhaps the first time ever, even Mishka came and sat by the tree with us and started rummaging for her own gifts. Those two crazy boys, Mel and Louis, were all excited and we're constantly amazed at just how much they've managed to draw Mishka out of her former reclusive and indifferent self. It was all very endearing.
• We held Christmas dinner at our place this year for which Lorne made a scrumptious veggie meat pie/tortiere and Vicky, River and Bronwyn all came over as well as Lorne's good friend Steve, whose family lives out of town. It was great to hold it at our place (since it also meant we could slip extra Bailey's into our morning coffee) and everyone had fun pulling crackers, sharing the terrible jokes, the mandatory wearing of tissue-paper crowns and (unbeknown to River) Bronwyn secretly scooped up the lion's share of the cracker toys. I suspect a little double-fisted cheating was involved.
• Once again Vicky and the kids gave us such thoughtful gifts, including the hand crafted and creatively iced Christmas cookies (per photo). And we love spoiling them at Christmas too, especially since Bronnie and River don't really have any/many other relatives here plus they've all had such a crappy last several months, what with one thing and another. So all-in-all, Christmas Day was a blast!



Bronwyn was so meticulous in icing gingerbread

cookies for me and Lorne. As you can see, there aren't

many left.

• On Boxing Day we dropped by to see our friends Steve & Heidi and their two girls (Charlee & Andi). It was a festive open house thing and there were many people there we'd never met before, folks that they know through their daughters' school etc. The kids wanted to play Dance Dance Revolution on the Wii, which, as far as I could tell, seems to involve them dancing like little hookers to cheesy pop songs, definitely not my thing and, if I had daughters, I'm not so sure I'd want them playing it either. They were obviously having fun, and I'm a very open-minded person, but the idea is to copy the dance movements of a young female character on screen, who's twisting, gyrating and strutting her stuff like they would at any regular peeler bar. Talk about early and detrimental stereo-typing, especially since it's aimed at kids. Maybe I'm just a no-fun feminist who prefers to the lesser known Indie bands on KEXP as opposed to the nauseating mainstream pulp churned out on local radio. Then so be it. We still had a nice time but group dancing games and anything remotely Karaoke just aren't my thing.
• Dec 28/29 Lorne and I made our usual pilgrimmage over to Victoria to visit our good friends John, Mike and Debbie with the added bonus that Vicky came with us too this time. With Mark having the kids for a few days and Vicky mentioning she wouldn't mind getting out of town for a change of scenery, it worked out perfectly and I'm so glad she came. It's always a relaxing time at John & Debbie's and this time was no exception - too much food 'n' booze and the pre-requisite screening of an old movie while enjoying a tasty cuban cigar in John's 'man cave'. It was the first time I'd actually seen Hitchcock's 'The Birds' from start to finish and I'm wondering where I can get that flattering soft-focus look that Tippi Hedren pulls off so flawlessly. Lorne says it's vaseline smeared on the camera lens.....darn, how do I convince people to rub vaseline across their eyeballs just so I'll look more glamorous?
• John cooked a delicious dinner that night and Mike came over too, I just hope he didn't think we were trying to set him up with Vicky just because they're both now single.....but hey, he's a nice guy and she's fabulous, so you never know - but I can honestly say it wasn't our intention to try. I don't do that matchmaking thaaang, mainly because I had too many 'friends' try it on me during my years of singledom and politely resented that awkwardness of being the single person so carefully placed next to the only other single person, while everyone 'casually' looks on, like avid bird-watchers, waiting to see if we'd start puffing feathers and bobbing our heads in mutual attraction. 
• Next morning (Dec. 29) we drove out to Saanich to an old-school local diner where it was a cheap thrill to be mid-40's and still the youngest people in the room. Saanich is unmistakably a retirement community. If Victoria is the city people retire to, then Saanich is where the Victoria retirees go to retire. Us "young'uns" are few and far between and I suspect the local version of road-racing involves mobility scooters and zimmer frames. So if ever you're feeling old, spend the day in Saanich, it's like drinking from the Fountain of Youth. Not that I have anything against seniors, far from it. In fact a big part of noticing was because Vancouver's become such a young & hip city that you don't really see so many seniors these days and I really miss that. And if they're all moving to Saanich then I have to say it'd be the perfect retirement community, everyone and everything is so close by. And, for the record, I actually love those very-american old-school diners too. They're a rare breed in Vancouver these days, having mostly been ripped out or demolished only to be replaced by a high-end 'boutique' clothing store or a souless and generic sports bar boasting 16 big-screen TVs and zero character.
• On New Year's Eve we just stayed home, as did most people I know, mainly because we're all still grounded from public merriment in the nanny state of Vancouver plus anyone who ventures out is obliged to pay some silly New Year's "Party" entry fee to get into even the cheesiest of bars and then faces a long walk home because cab drivers refuse to do short (cheaper) runs. Us adults aren't permitted any public merriment here since the Stanley Cup riots in 2011 and it took 17 years for them to ease up on that, after the same thing happened in 1994. At this rate the next hope of participating in any public New Years celebrations in the self-proclaimed 'best city on Earth' will be in 2028 soonest, by which time we'll have all retired to Saanich! So Lorne and I stayed home with the kitties, ate pretty much the rest of the Christmas leftovers and,watched the repeat of New Years' countdown celebrations from NY and Toronto that had already been and gone 3 hours earlier.

And then it was January 2nd and back to work.

So much for my 'concise' summary of the Christmas holidays (sorry, I just can't resist throwing out the word 'Christmas' - instead of 'holidays' or 'festive break' - just to piss people off.)

Well, here's to a Happy New Year! May it rain utter fabulousness on us all!

Counting Blessings

As we barrel towards the final 24 hours of 2012, I realize it's one of the few years that I will not be sorry to see the back of. It seems that - for myself, my sister and for various friends, family members and even friends-of-friends - the year 2012 has not been a very kind one. As one who usually feels somewhat daunted by the prospect of a whole new and unwritten year unfolding in front of me, it's quite refreshing to feel at least a little positive anticipation about moving towards the as yet blank pages of chapter 2013.

But even though 2012 was, by and large, a bit of a blur and has not been one of my better years - thanks to losing my job, going through breast cancer, being unemployed for the better part of 8 months and watching my sister's marriage come to an end - I am nevertheless able to count up a series of blessings that have accumulated around me, some of them even in spite of their circumstances. There have been times of stress, uncertainty, fear, rejection and worry however, while it might have been a more trying year, I still couldn't say it was absolutely horrendous and for that I am grateful, because things really could have been a lot worse.

Rather than go into too much detail (since much has been written in my posts previous to this), I thought I'd make a quick list because - even in the tough times - it helps to stop, take a breather and really count your blessings:

1. I am blessed with a wonderful husband, Lorne, who never ceases to amaze me with his unwavering love, support, compassion, concern and just being there for me in every way. I couldn't ask for a better life partner and, especially this year, he has outdone himself in being all that and so much more. Thank you!
2. I've enjoyed a renewed closeness with friends and family, even friends I haven't spoken to in years and those I don't even know so well. I have felt very loved and appreciated this year, that's for sure.
3. Being laid off was upsetting and felt so unfair, but I was given a decent severance that allowed me to enjoy a fairly relaxing couple of months off, until we left for our 3-week trip to the UK in June, and subsequently the time and freedom to deal with the breast cancer diagnosis, surgery and radiation treatments without that added pressure of feeling like I should be making up the time at work. Admittedly, being unemployed so long often left me to ponder a little too much inside my own head with the 'what ifs' and 'maybes', but if ever I needed space to wrap my head around something, then not working these past months has certainly been a blessing.
4. I'm eternally grateful that my cancer was small, low-grade and found very early. Furthermore I have received prompt, high-tech treatment and am so lucky to be living among the world's top breast cancer researchers, scientists and doctors. I didn't have to lose a breast, I didn't need chemo, I never lost my hair and there is a 5-year course of medication available to me to further minimize the chances of this cancer coming back. Were I living in the US, the treatment alone would have soaked up all our savings and then some. In many other countries it might not even be available to me at all.
5. The timing of our UK trip - planned before I lost my job or learned about the breast cancer - was impeccable, a very welcome distraction between diagnosis and surgery and a chance to reconnect with my family on a deeper level perhaps than other visits.
6. Talking of our England trip, I also count my blessings that my mum, who's taken to falling asleep while smoking in bed or in her armchair, has thus far failed to burn down the house and that I was there to stub out the lit cigarette that fell from her hand and merrily smouldered away on the living room carpet. Admittedly I was furious at the time - I've always hated that she smokes so much anyway - and when that happened, on the last night of our stay with her in June, I felt sick with a mix of anger, frustration and overwhelming worry that she might just die in a house fire one day - and likely sooner rather than later - self inflicted! (Lorne's best friend lost both parents that way not too long ago.) It's a horrible thought but a possibility that I am personally powerless (and too far away) to change. 
7. I am grateful that having so much time off this year has enabled me to be a much greater support to my sister, Victoria - spending time with her and the kids, especially in the midst of her separation from Mark and then the lengthy up-heavel of moving house. I am forever in awe of her stamina, strength, sheer determination and incredible strength of spirit as she pushes herself through what sometimes seems to be an endless uphill battle. 2012 has been a very tough year for her too, so let's hope 2013 brings better times!
8. In return, Vicky has been an incredible support to me in navigating breast cancer, thanks largely to her own experiences just a couple of years ago. While it's been a pathway we never expected to share, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side who has already been through it. I swear that it even helped lessen some of the initial shock and fear of my own diagnosis back in May, since it was no longer the first time I'd heard those unwanted words spoken so close to home. And when Vicky had a further scare this summer - with what thankfully really was a benign cyst - I was able to be there with her - in fact we sat together at the hospital, chatting our heads off (as always), right up to the moment they wheeled her bed into the OR.
9. I've also been lucky to have the time to get back into a regular workout routine - both during and since the radiation treatments - keeping active and topping up those endorphins. Aside from the Christmas junk food (ahem!) I currently feel fitter and more energetic than I have in a long time.
10. I am also blessed with a good friend and ex-boss, Bev, who has been supportive in both a personal and professional capacity. Having lost her own best friend to a 10-year battle with breast cancer last year, Bev was someone I could talk to when my sister was diagnosed and has since befriended me in the same way, especially by offering me freelance work shortly before Christmas. Basically I'm back doing the job I left in 2011, only on a freelance basis and it helps me (and Bev) in so many ways. It's just a temporary gig but is pretty flexible, the extra money has certainly helped, just in time for Christmas and the work might even run through January. The extra cash and freedom from my own personal procrastination is very handy and perfect timing. While I'm back in the saddle work-wise, you could also say I'm riding the gift horse they call Hypocrite (or sleeping with the enemy), since I originally left the company because of (among other reasons) their voracious desire to focus on projects in/around the Alberta oil sands, to which I am absolutely environmentally opposed. However, they've offered me a decent hourly rate, it gets me out and around people again and it means I can use the writing, editing, proof-reading and desktop publishing skills that I didn't get as much opportunity to use in my last job but would definitely like still to use in the future. Besides, I'm still good friends with a couple of my immediate co-workers, so it's been a seamless transition and has spared me the patronizing and nauseating happy-clappy Sparkle-Barbies at the local temping agencies! 

Well, that's ten things right off the top of my head in a year that's certainly had its moments. And if it hadn't all happened this year, I might not be writing this post, so what else can I say? Take solace even in the small things and hold onto those moments of grace, compassion and gratitude - no matter how fleeting.

Three years

My dearest Lucy,

Three years already and I still miss you every day. Thank You for all those amazing cuddles and the unique gift of sharing 11 precious and wonderful years of your life.

Such an incredibly adorable sweetheart, Lucy, your loving spirit lives within me every day and for that I am truly blessed.

Love you with all my heart, my little Lucy Button.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s beginning to look a lot like.....déjà-vu!

And so, the tree is up. It's been a little over a week and it's survived thus far....mostly....although some of the decorations aren't faring quite so well.

Since Mel and Louis unceremoniously demolished our tree last Christmas (as you'll see from the pictures below), we had no choice but to buy a new one this year and ended up with one that appears to be a 7.5 footer - way larger than the display model in the store - that is now virtually devouring the whole living room. We actually bought it early November and I confess, we even set it up that same day. NOT because we're those people, I might add (who get everything Christmassey well underway 6-8 weeks in advance) although Christmas ads began popping up on TV even before Hallowe'en and many stores wasted no time in cranking out the old seasonal faves as of 12:01 am on Nov. 1st.

Noooo. We put the tree up right away as an experiment with our kitties - namely Mel and Louis - since those two rambunctious goofballs celebrated their first Christmas last year by systematically destroying the tree, branch-by-branch and at least 8-10 decorations at a time.  

One of their first victims was Rudolph (left). Let's just say poor Rudolph is now an amputee misfit toy perhaps better known as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Lame Deer, who had, just like the tree, merrily survived unscathed for 11 years and 5 cats! The Curious Incident of Rudolph in the Night simply started the bauble rolling, so to speak, and was quickly followed by almost all of the decorations, at one time or another, mysteriously vanishing overnight, only to be stumbled upon (quite literally) in various corners of the house for the next 11 months -  maimed, slobbered on, defaced with teeth marks and generally looking like mini ruins of their former selves. Mel, it turns out, is rather partial to anything shiny, silver, sparkley or covered in glitter - quickly earning himself the nickname Magpie Mel. I lost count of how many times we had to chase him as he dashed off upstairs with something in his mouth ready to hide it under the bed. Louis was less obvious but just as guilty. On more than one occasion we caught them diving from their favourite hangout on the window-seat straight into the middle branches of the tree! The whole thing shook, decorations fell and whichever cat wasn't the tree-diver was waiting down below, ready swipe any decorations that fell off in the kerfuffle.

Another of their favourite 'Reindeer games....haha, get it? Was "Let's see how far we can bend the Rudolph at the top". As you can see, we came downstairs one morning to find he'd been dragged southwards a full 90 degrees, exactly to kitten-in-the-window height, dishevelled yet remarkably still intact.

I’m amazed it hadn’t flipped right back up again, catapulting the culprit feline(s)

at 90mph right through to the dining room!

Reindeer down under - literally!

Not satisfied with amputations, theft, destruction and generally wreaking mayhem,

they proceeded to climb the branches till virtually all of them broke in their holders,

leaving the tree crippled and looking more like a massive glob of spinach

slumped in the corner of the living room.

Alas there really was nothing we could do to save it.

Within 3 weeks it had pretty much ceased to be.

One old, beaten and forlorn tree
- gone to meet it's maker.

Mel, totally enamoured with a 'real' fire.

So this time, while Lorne was away for a week with his friends getting their eardrums blasted on their long-awaited heavy metal cruise, The Barge to Hell, I put on a Christmas movie, treated myself to some festive 'spirits', put a duraflame log in the fireplace, much to Mel's endless enjoyment, and began the long task of untangling lights (despite the fact I always put them away so carefully each year), pulling said string of lights away from grabby, clawing cat paws and, in my usual meticulous (verging on OCD) manner, dressed it up in our 100 or more decorations - which took me about the next two days!

 



Tadaaa. Behold - new tree in all its glory!

Not to sound boastful, but I was really quite pleased with the result. Just as well, since it was short-lived after that.

For the first week the tree stayed safe and intact despite the fact 2-3 decorations are regularly being pulled off during the day shift and 3 more during the night. And then it became 3-4. And now it's about 5-6 each time. Rocking horses have lost their rockers. Stars have been stripped of their golden trim. Angels have bent wings. Bells are sneakily being jingled at all hours of the night and ol' Rudolph at the top seems to lean in a new direction each morning.

Our living room furniture now looks more like a pile of dodgem cars since we’ve had to squish things close together so as to keep a ‘safe’ perimeter of clearance around the tree, because Mel and Louis soon decided to launch themselves straight from the armchair, couch, window-seat or Lorne's cigar humidor, right into the lower and middle branches of the tree.

Ah bless, courtesy of those sneaky little critters, it’s certainly beginning to look a lot like déjà-vu as the once-sturdy branches are starting to collapse, one on top of the other, throughout the bottom half of the tree. In fact the mid-left looks just like a cannon ball blew right through it.

For now I’ve used long screws to try and wedge the broken branches back up to (almost) their correct position but we’ll see how long it lasts. Looks like another new tree or else no tree at all for next year.

A brief photo catch-up

I don't want this blog to become all about breast cancer, so I thought I'd do a quick post of some of my favourite photographs taken during my long absence. Okay, even I can't deny that I've had a distinct lack of....not so much enthusiasm but rather....the right creative headspace these past few months (with trying to wrap my head around the whole cancer thing) but I'm back, Baby. I've sorely missed that feeling of wanting to get out there with my camera and I desperately want (and need) to get back into it.

Anyway, here are a few shots - not least because I know my Mum's been hoping to see some more of my pictures (and Vicky's so good at regularly posting great photos on her blog). I've been a bit more diligent lately about posting pics to Facebook than I have on this blog or on my Flickr account - need to change that.

CUBA (January 2012)
Having previously been twice to the same part of Cuba, it was great to explore a different part of the country this last time which included an excellent 2-day trip across country to the city of Trinidad. Wonderful for photographic opportunities but especially to really get a feel for the country and its incredible people as a whole. I'm never quite comfortable with seeming like a wealthy, fancy-pants tourist, which is surely how we must be perceived by the locals since they live such a basic, antiquated and impoverished third world lifestyle, but I love their strong sense of community. They live an incredibly tough life with so little of the everyday foods, services and 'stuff' that we take for granted. I (personally) enjoyed the break from everything hi-tech, rushed and consumerist - but of course, that's easy for me to say since I have a choice about that. They don't.



City of Trinidad, Cuba



Where sleeping dogs lie - Trinidad, Cuba

English homework - Trinidad, Cuba

Trinidad, Cuba

SPRING FLOWERS (around Vancouver April/May 2012)

The cherry blossoms around Vancouver were stunning this Spring - though it always means allergy-hell for poor Lorne :-(

Beautiful cherry blossoms line many streets across Vancouver.

Magenta magnolia.

Bronwyn with a dog that looked like he could eat her whole.
Luckily he's a gentle giant, apparently, called Caesar.

ENGLAND (June 2012)

There are still LOTS more pictures I need to add from our trip this summer, especially from our travels around Scotland too - but here are a couple of England pics for starters:

 

These beautiful, vivid red poppies were in a field across opposite
my brother's house in High Ackworth, Pontefract (UK).



More poppies from the same field in
High Ackworth, Pontefract (UK).



Donkey rides at Cleethorpes Beach, England (my home town).
Still going strong after all these years.

The Furry Free-Loaders (aka. Mishka, Mel and Louis)

When we first adopted Mel and Louis in Oct. 2011 through VOKRA (Vancouver's Orphan Kitten Rescue Association) they were just 5 months old, their names were Aldo and Stirling respectively and it was hard to tell them apart. Naturally we changed their names and have finally learnt to identify one from the other. It's fun to watch their personalities evolve while they remain so incredibly close and affectionate with each other - and they're great with Mishka. In all her 15 years and the 4 previous cats that have passed through her life, Mishka is really quite content with these bafoons and they are constantly seeking her affection. Having these past few months off and spending so much time with these guys has been an absolute gift, especially to be able to look after Mishka's every need now that she's elderly, needs careful dietary support and is on a regular regime of medicines. I swear the energy of being around the boys has even slowed down her aging.

A couple of these pics aren't great because they're taken with my Iphone (more for expediency before the cats changed position) but I've managed to catch a few with my Nikon too. I would love to do more pet photography so these guys are giving me lots of practise.

Louis curled around a sleeping Mel.

Mirror Image. (Mel left, Louis right)

Bond...Mel Bond. Handsome devil.

Louis & Mel - when they could both still fit in the kitty condo.

It's tough being this good-looking but even a super model
like Mishka still finds time to relax, especially in the sun.

Mishka's favourite spot all summer, basking in the shaft of
sunlight at the back door. Alas the change in seasons has
seriously eaten into her sun-worshipping schedule.

The 3 amigos

Look who stowed away in Lorne's luggage!

Dear Tamoxifen

As previously discussed, you are hereby contracted for a term not expected to exceed 5 years, wherein your principal focus is to be devoted to one task and one task only:

• To unreservedly kick the absolute CRAP out of this cancer malarky and ensure its toxic and insidious ass is kept the hell away from me!

And in so doing, you are respectfully commanded to honour your host, thus committing your equal and undivided care and attention in avoiding (or, at the very least, limiting to a bare and tolerable minimum) all of the following:

• Mood swings
• Hot flashes
• Weight gain
• Nausea
• Tiredness
• Memory loss
• Depression
• Insomnia
• Swelling of hands/feet
• Other menopause-type 'joys' not listed above
• Muscle/joint pain
• Endometrial cancer
• Risk of stroke
• Risk of blood clots
• Cataracts

In other words, make sure you do your job.....do it well!....and please be kind to me in the process.

And so, without further ado, let us seal both obligatory and honourary terms of this agreement, for the period of one thousand eight hundred and twenty six days (inclusive of the 2016 leap year and taking into account any additional/exclusive time-period as deemed appropriate by qualified oncologists).

I hereby raise this glass of water and.....3....2....1......

Dose #1 is down the hatch!!!

Radiation Routine

Hard to believe that 22 daily sessions of radiation could go by so fast. That 4.5 weeks could sprint right on past in the blink of an eye. But they have and I'm all done.

On Nov. 2nd Bag #2673 was proudly retired to the paper recycling bin, the navy hospital gown dropped into the changing room laundry hamper and my cute candy-cane hanger - disarmed and relieved of its current duties - left to hang once more on the Unit #6 coat rail. While I certainly felt a sense of freedom, an acute pang of empathy quickly followed, since I strongly suspect that little hanger won't be unemployed for too long.

Having been given the choice between morning or afternoon appointments for my radiation sessions, I'd opted for mornings figuring it would be good to get it out of the way first thing. Besides it got me up, dressed and out of the house. For the most part my appointments started somewhere between 8:15 and 9:00am and the brisk morning walk was a refreshing start to my day, especially since I love breathing in the smells and damp morning mists of Autumn.

When Vicky was going through her own radiation (early 2010) I remember being surprised that she seemed to be so at ease with it, simply taking it in her stride, no whining, no complaining, just getting on with it as if it were as routine as brushing her teeth. Going through it myself, I now understand first-hand how quickly it becomes something you just do every day, rain or shine. It's quick, painless (mostly) and it ain't chemo, for which I am eternally grateful.

(Ironically enough, BC Cancer Agency is just a half block down the street from where I worked at the Canadian Cancer Society, so my daily jaunt would take me right past the windows of my ex-boss and colleagues - twice. Without even looking across at that building, I simply walked right on by, head held high.)

The first 16 sessions saw me in and out of BCCA within 15 minutes (including getting undressed/dressed), however the 6 booster treatments took a little while longer in set-up, though still no more than 25mins in all - lots more measuring, extra marking and repeatedly moving the bed up, down, left and right, while fitting an extra piece of equipment to the machine to further narrow down its field of radiation.

Almost all of the 12 or so radiation technicians I've met in these past few weeks have been cheerful and quite entertaining by all accounts. Admittedly, when I'm in a strange situation or feeling awkward, I sometimes switch into comedian mode - an old class-clown defence mechanism from my self-conscious school days. Similarly I'm energized by people who have a dry sense of humour so some of the sessions quickly turned into 10-minute stand-up routines (well, horizontal for me obviously). We often found ourselves laughing so much that all the giggling created havoc while trying to mark out the correct lines and dots for the more serious task at hand.

Part way through my treatments I noticed a small Vancouver Canucks sticker on the machine, where it hovered just above my face at the start of each session. And on my 3rd-last treatment I discovered spiderman's face had appeared alongside it. 'Was that Spidey-sticker always there?', I wondered. 'From the beginning? I swear I didn't notice it before. And who stuck it there anyway? A patient? Technician? The cleaner?' Regardless who put it there, I liked it and found it oddly amusing.

In an effort to keep my energies up and hopefully fight off any of the fatigue that they warn you can be a side-effect of the treatments, I made a point, every other day, to head straight from the Cancer Agency down to the gym. It's been quite some time since I worked out this regularly and so efficiently at the gym. I certainly feel better for it - mentally as much as physically. I'm sure it's contributed to my general sense of well-being and has apparently counteracted the accumulative fatigue that, for some people, can begin as early as two weeks into treatment or as late as two weeks after it's finished. Other than 3 days or so during the final week of my radiation, I've hardly noticed any overwhelming tiredness. Mind you, maybe I should have milked that chronic fatigue thing all the same, as an excuse to lay around on the couch and have Lorne cook dinner, feed me grapes and generally wait on me hand and foot.  :-)

I have to say the radiation treatments were actually pretty straight forward - neither bothersome nor inconvenient - but even I can't deny that's probably because a) I live just a 10 minute walk away from the Cancer Agency, b) unemployment has spared me both the inconvenience and awkwardness of trying to discreetly squeeze in the sessions around a busy work schedule and c) I haven't had to juggle them amid the morning mayhem of herding kids to the breakfast table, throwing clothes on them and hurtling them off to school. (Luckily cats are self-sufficient in that regard.)

I count myself lucky that any adverse side-effects have really been pretty minimal, with only the swelling, tenderness and blotchy redness of my pink-blancmange-boob being the most noticeable. It's certainly no fun when you can't tolerate wearing a bra or t-shirt because it sets your nipple off itching like crazy but your skin's too tender to even have a good scratch (ideally in private, hehe.) But even that was largely kept under control by regularly applying betamethasone cream, a prescription steroid cream to combat the itching and soreness.

And so another stage of this journey is done and out of the way. The staff wished me well as I left Unit #6 for the last time. "Thanks for everything," I replied, cheerily. "And please don't take it personally if I hope never to see you again." ;-)

Now that we've zapped the sh*t out of any remaining cancer cells, all I'm left with is a bizarre-shaped tan across my right boob and into my armpit. The skin's still sensitive and has started to peel slightly where the redness and blotching was previously more prominent so I'll continue applying the cream for a couple more weeks, but overall I have to say I've been feeling pretty good.

Moreover, I am profoundly thankful for an early diagnosis and the amazing medical care and hi-tech equipment that are readily available to me - suddenly my bitching about paying through the nose to live in Vancouver seems unreasonably skewed.

Repeat ultrasound - côté gauche

Don't ask me why I felt I should say 'left side' in french, it just seemed to feel right.....or rather, left.

So I'm really not quite sure what took so long but today, being my weekly check-in with an oncologist, I finally got the report from the October 10th ultrasound done on my left breast, which was a follow-up to the one they did just before our UK trip back in June. The results, while thankfully not indicating cancer at this stage, are nevertheless still somewhat vague and they've suggested another repeat in 4 months.

Admittedly I had felt at the time, that the technician doing the exam was really very thorough. She could feel/see the same lumpy areas that I had indicated and confirmed at least a couple of those appear to be just small cysts, which is actually quite common and nothing to worry about. I was even relieved when she showed me on the monitor that the couple of areas previously identified as perhaps a lump, are in fact spots where two adjacent ducts run parallel/criss-cross, which is what makes them palpable and only when the ultrasound wand is moved in a certain way do you actually see where the ducts separate as opposed to seeing them as a single, enlarged unit. That said, they do appear to be a little dilated - but hopefully not because of any cancer developing in there.

Basically the final report indicates an "atypical cyst" in the 3 o'clock position which seems unchanged from the previous exam (potentially a good sign) but they also add that it's hard to determine for sure "in view of the difficulty in comparing ultrasounds done on 2 different machines by two different operators". Great.

They also note a couple of other areas that look to be cysts (per above) that seem largely unchanged in size, as well as the two adjacent (palpable) focally dilated ducts.

All-in-all my left 'lumpy-bumpy' breast has a few areas to monitor but at least nothing too scary is showing at this point. Sort of a relief, I suppose, but not entirely. I guess we'll see how things look next February - hopefully without being examined by a third operator on a 3rd machine simply adding to the apparent ambiguity. Either way, at least I know they're on it ..... so to speak ;-)

Understandably perhaps, I'm not feeling out of the woods just yet - but then, I also suspect I may never have that feeling again, since this is just part of my new reality. Tagged for the foreseeable future. It will always be there, in the back of my mind, with every check-up, mammogram and ultrasound. The legacy of breast cancer gently poking me as a subtle reminder to never again take anything for granted. Not that I ever really did actually, especially not since the very sudden and untimely death of my dad back in '96, my brother Graham's heart attack in '07 (at just 33 years old) or Vicky's breast cancer in '09. I've never pretended that things can't all change at a moment's notice. While I've endeavoured not to dwell on this cancer thing, for fear it would immobilize me if I let panic set in, I strongly suspect it will always have a spot, tucked away in the corner.

Ho-hum, said Pooh.

Bag #2673

And so this is me, Bag #2673, for the next 4.5 weeks. Or rather 22 radiation sessions, daily Mon - Fri, from now until Nov. 2nd.

As luck would have it, Lorne didn't have to start work until 10am today so he came down to the BC Cancer Agency with me for today's initial radiation session.

I'm not sure where in the building Vicky did her radiation, but it seems to me that it's a bit nicer where I go - Unit 6. From the time I went with Vicky to one of her treatments, I recollect the area was sparse and in need of a paint job. But then I also don't really trust my memory on much theses days, so I could just be totally making it up in my mind. (And this is even before any effects of menopause.)

The staff were really friendly and Kerry, who walked us through the plan and general routine for the next few weeks, had a really dry sense of humour, which helped. She gave me my personal, marked up brown paper bag (as above), complete with a navy hospital gown that I will use for the duration and a rather cheery, Christmas candy-cane coat hanger so that, after each treatment, I can leave it hanging in the change area until the next session. It wasn't until I went to actually change, that I realized just how many bags are hanging in that area - and there are more areas just like that - a mix of paper bags and some fabric ones, marked up with number, unit and treatment end date, much the same as mine - reiterating just how many of us are on this same journey. Too many, it would seem.

We went over the radiation treatment plan that Dr N. had talked about a couple of weeks ago; 16 treatments to the whole area plus a further 6 'booster' treatments that would specifically target the area where just few cancer cells remained post-surgery.

Once I had undressed my top half and changed into my gown, Kerry led me into a room with a monster of a machine that immediately reminded me of an oversized food mixer (per the example on the left) where - as you can see from my photo (below) - I am positioned in the spot where the mixing bowl would ordinarily be.

Thankfully, having seen Vicky go through one of her sessions a couple of years ago, I wasn't too shocked by the size of the thing, although it's nevertheless quite daunting to be under there as it buzzes away and then swings overhead after zapping one side of my boob, ready to start again from the other side. I remain convinced it could quite easily eat me whole.

Me, ready to get zapped

Lorne stayed outside the room with the technicians (due to the obvious dangers of the radiation) and watched on the monitors while the radiologists used lines, beams, illuminated rulers, magic markers and my two new tattoos to line up everything ready for administering my first treatment. So precisely measured down to the exact half-millimetre that even the teeny-tiniest movement, sneeze, cough or otherwise would throw everything right off and the technicians would have to start measuring all over again.

With everything all set and ready to go, they checked I was still doing okay, then left the room. Seconds later a loud click heralded the start of my first treatment - noticeable only by the resonating "NNNRRRRRRRR" sound it emits for the duration. It's an odd thing to be laying there, getting zapped by invisible, refined beams of radiation, while everyone else has to vacate the premises and stand well clear of the 8" thick door that separates us.

In just a matter of minutes (or less) it was all done. Kerry and her team-mate came back in, helped me get down from the bed and cheerily wished me a good day and 'see you tomorrow' as they handed me my pink appointment card wherein they write the times for that week's appointments. I took my brown bag and stripey hanger back to the changing room, got dressed and dutifully hung up Bag #2673 on the rail - along with all the others.

Bye-bye tattoo virgin

So I went to the cancer agency for my CT scan yesterday.

First of all they take you to a room and make you watch an in-house video that explains the whole CT scan procedure and the radiation treatments that I'll start in the near future. It was a cheesy but endearing home-video shot at the BC Cancer Agency, complete with wooden-top 'actors'. The woman who played the cancer patient in the video had a very familiar accent - not only english but a familiar Grimsby/Cleethorpes accent. I swear she could've lived down the road from me. I found it amusingly distracting.

There was a piece at the end of the video listing various cancer support services and a couple of the images were a bit wacky - someone laid in a hospital bed while a volunteer sat by the bedside singing songs to them and playing guitar. Another 'relaxation therapy' session showed people laid out on the room floor while a man stood amid them, tapping and shaking a tambourine. Call me cynical (I won't deny it) but it felt like a comedy skit.

At the end of the video I went back to the waiting room where the CT-Scan-ologist (that's their technical name, right?) came to fetch me and walked me to the room where she and another technician prepped me ready to be fed through the big, white CT-scanner doughnut. With some careful cross-referencing and drawing of dots across my chest, boob and into my armpit, they were ready to do the scan.

They both left the room while the mechanics inside the doughnut began to whirr and rotate, drawing up a 3D image that would be used to map out the exact route for the upcoming radiation treatments. Once again I had that detached sensation of role-playing, being physically in the room but struggling to accept that this is real and this is me, the accidental cancer patient, being zapped and scanned ready to set up a treatment plan I never expected.

After a little more checking, comparing and careful measuring, I was poked twice with a tattoo gun/syringe - one teeny tiny dot mid-chest and another near my armpit. That's it, my proud tattoo virginity out of the window - it bloody hurt though. I have no idea what kind of sado-masochist must enjoy the pain of a whole tattoo, especially those massive murals all over their body. (Or even the woman at my gym who has a 6" Christmas ribbon tattooed on the back of both her left and right thigh. Why oh why???)

So now I'm a marked woman, haha. Radiation in....radiation out. I went for the 'freckle' look - although the tattoo mid-chest (where my cleavage should be, if I had a cleavage) is actually darker and more obvious than the discreet dot just below my armpit. Hopefully make-up will cover it.

Apparently they need a couple of weeks to go through all my scans etc. to map out the radiation sessions so I'll probably get started on the actual treatments early October for 22 treatments, which means it'll be more like early to mid-November before I could start work. Of course there's that minor detail of actually getting a job to go to! I'm still applying for jobs in the meantime anyway but I'm not putting too much pressure on myself at this point.

So me and my two new 'tats' are just waiting to get started on the next phase of all this stuff.