Monthly Archives: June 2012

Stroke-Stroke Glide-Glide

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Finding Home, Fun, Life, Travel, Writing by

We are at the cottage (rental) and I don’t have my drawing pad with me. If I did have the drawing pad, I’d sketch you a doodle of the view from this window. There’s the lake in the background and the green forest of Tar Island, and here just in the foreground are a sparse layering of trees – their trunks are thin at the top (this cottage is set upon a cliff face, and so I’m looking through the tops of these trees), and the branches are tapering to a point, like a very tall Christmas tree or something. Reminds me of a painting I did for my grade six art project. It was a tree trunk, with a branch, and a lake behind with blue sky above.

This is the cottage. We arrived here Thursday evening, and are able to come and go as we like. Tomorrow I’ll be back in town for Canada day. But today we are here. And today it is nice.

Zsolt and I have been making many decisions lately – several of which I am not allowed to talk about. (Which is really, really difficult.) Let’s just say sometimes stuff works and other times stuff really doesn’t work. However, we’re fine and eventually we’ll manage this whole ‘career’ thing. In the meanwhile something good has come from a series of infuriating events, which is (cause I can talk about this, thank freaking goodness) a trip.

Soon Zsolt and I will fly to Hungary for a month. Following that we’ll fly to England and visit friends. After this we’ll take a boat to New York from Southampton (7 night cruise) and hang with family and visit the city. Then we’ll take the train up to Montreal (12 hour trip), where we’ll finally catch a bus back to Ottawa. We’re leaving mid (ish) July and returning September.

I’ll let your imagination create the reasons for our booking this massive, non-refundable trip when neither of us has full-time employment, and then say that while plans can change beyond our control, it is not the case with non-refundable bookings. So the silver lining in all this crappiness is that my husband and I are going on an adventure. And that’s a really awesome silver lining.

When we return, we are 100% determine to move out of my parent’s house – even if it means living in someone else’s basement (hopefully with a separate entrance), and working on getting my man Zsolt into the intellectual property field. He’s got a talent for it. He’ll be even better when working for a company full-time.  (If you know anyone looking for a patent agent trainee, please do let me know.)

And I think everything will be alright. We’re at the cottage today. I’m going to have the first draft of my book finished before we leave for Hungary. (Really I am, I’ve only got like 3000 words left to write before that’s done.) Zsolt is planning to help me turn my Bumpyboobs adventures into mini e-books (woohoo! So then I can make myself a large button to wear that says, “Self-Published Author!”).

And everything is going to be alright.

Everything is going to be alright.

Maybe I should tattoo it onto my forehead, just a reminder. 🙂

As support to this assertion, my mammogram checkout A-Okay. I’m still totally annoyed with the screening situation, but hey – no cancer. Woohooo! Nooooooo Cancer!!

AND, I turn 30 next week.

Plus, the canoe we bought is turning out beautifully. Another big purchase we may never have made  . . . but was inevitably done. (Because I said to Zsolt, if not now, when?) And so we’ve been paddling around this lake at the cottage and the rivers near Ottawa – enjoying the beauty of the area and just stupid happy with every stroke. You know, back in the land of chemotherapy day-dreams, one of my musings was to buy a canoe and just forget about the bullshit. That’s what happens whenever we take it out – it’s not about looking for work, surviving cancer, growing up, staying healthy . . . it’s about stroke-stroke-stroke, and glide-glide-glide.

Right now, for our lives in general, I think we’ll just have to focus on the present. Just stroke-stroke-stroke, and glide-glide-glide.

 

P.S. kudos to Zsolt who is circling me as I post this outside the cottage, killing black flies and keeping me bug-bite free!

 

Screening and Screaming (i.e. frusteration)

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs by

Today was a heavier day, and not just because of this heat. Every six months, now moving forward to every year, it’s scan time. This morning I had a mammogram, and I was meant to also have an ultrasound.

Anyhow. We go to the hospital. They squish my breast till I’m standing at the machine (as the nurse move it ever so much tighter, and tighter, and tighter) making rude faces at the wall. But apart from the ridiculous compression of flesh, it goes smoothly.

It should be said that I’m not crazy for mammograms mainly because I’m only thrity (in about 2 weeks), and to receive this sort of scan every year, with all that radiation, really annoys me. I was hoping very much that ultrasounds would be an alternative to the mammogram.

Except after I get the mam done, the radiologist tells me he doesn’t want to do the ultrasound. He thoroughly believes that ultra sound screening produces too many false positives, and he’d have to do a biopsy, and I’d be left on ‘stand by’ (monitored) for six months at a time for years to come.

“But if you really want to do it, we can do it.”

Not. He didn’t really mean that. You should have seen his face when I said, “Well why don’t we just do it?” It was a ,”not a good idea” kinda face. And maybe he’s right?

I became an emotional puddle. (Darn tootin’ emotions! They make it impossible for me to express any words except for, “sorry,” which I shouldn’t even be in that situation.) Zsolt started asking questions about lymph nodes and such, and the doctor was answering his questions. So a mammogram, of course, is a reasonable way to screen . . . not perfect, but I suppose less false positives than an ultrasoun. Fine.

But I don’t want to be shot with radiation for forty some years in an area that I already know is sensitive to cancer. I just don’t want to do it – even this incidence was a twist of the arm following my oncologists request to get “at least one mammogram.”

Anyhow. The radiologist said that MRIs would really be the best option, if I have an overall lifetime risk of breast cancer that is greater than 25%. (i.e. we can’t justify spending the money otherwise.) Fuck. You know what the oncologist in England told me about my more immediate odds (as I made the decision to do chemotherapy), he said I had about 50% chance of not having reoccurrence if I had the treatment.  Of course, that number changes over time . . . but right now, I’m really pissed about the 25% lifetime crap when I had breast cancer in my body and lymph nodes only two damn years ago. And I know we all face this screening abyss, and I’m not entirely sure if I have a right to be so annoyed, but I am. So there.

Right. Bright side of things: I learned a lesson today. My options as a young woman aren’t fabulous in terms of breast cancer screening. I need to become more proactive in choosing my screening, even I need to pay for it myself.

Oh Geez – even brighter side! I didn’t get my results, but the radiologist looked at my mammogram and didn’t order any additional tests, which I take as an awesome sign. Next day or two I’ll call the doctor for the official reading of the correspondence between specialists (results). It’s not really stressing me out, because if he’d seen a lump, I’m sure the ultrasound (to a specific area) would have been done. I suppose it was just such a frustrating feeling, being told I didn’t have the power to choose my screening, that really left me in such a lurch today.

That being said, there has to be a better way. Mammograms for decade upon decade? There just has to be a better way.

(And I’m not going back to ask again for an ultrasound. I do believe that the mammogram is enough, but that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t think it’s the healthiest option for a woman at my age in terms of long-term health. Maybe I’m wrong, but going forward I’d really love to explore other options, whatever those may be.)

Happy Father’s Day!

Posted in Life, Love by

Today is father’s day, which mean we’ve spent the entire Sunday eating great food. First there was the truck stop by Arnprior, then we had a BBQ, and then there was a beautiful pavlova. So today’s post is going to be a short one. Really, a million things are happening right now here in the world of Bumpyboobs (i.e. my life) but I have a gag order placed on several of them. You’ll hear more about that later.

In the meanwhile, in honour of father’s day, here’s a list of some top-ten dad moments from my dad, Tony Bony. I am sure there are more, but at the moment, these spring to mind.

  • Dad pulling a giant fish from the water – cursing like a sailor, and smiling like a fool.
  • Dad making me sweet potato French fries after my chemotherapy, when I was so hungry and emotional, it was more than many men could tolerate.
  • Stories after dinner, when he rolls back time and entertains us with something hilarious that happened in his childhood. Our narrative nature must come from his side of the family.
  • Dad giving a speech on the day Zsolt and I were married, basically saying how proud he was, and holding back the tears.
  • Dad as a hippy, which I’ve only witnessed through old photographs.
  • Dad picking me up at 3 am in the middle of nowhere, after I had decided to go for a walk (let’s not worry as to why I was in the middle of nowhere at 3 am.) and not giving me shit until the next morning.
  • Dad coming home from work when I was a little girl sick with a cold and saying, “It’s no fun being sick, eh kid?”
  • Dad pushing me to go out to Jasper, Alberta for the summer. It was a completely amazing experience.
  • Dad walking out of mass on Christmas, leading the entire line of people who’d just received communion, and then breaking down laughing when we realize this wasn’t the right way to go.
  • Dad talking to me every other day during the chemotherapy via skype – taking my mind off all the crap with a little light conversation, and some funny stories to pass the time.

Even though he can sometimes drive me crazy, he’s been a great father. I guess we all drive each other crazy occasionally . . . what really matters, I reckon, is the polar moments – whether it’s shit hitting the fan, or all the good stuff happening at once, what really  matters is that for those highs and lows, we support one another. It’s something to be counted on.

So happy father’s day. I hope your dad is as awesome as mine. Please do share your best dad moments if you have some. 🙂

See you later,

Catherine

P.S.

We bought an inflatable, two person KAYAK!!! More later. Let’s just say, I decided to finally realize that long-awaited chemo dream of paddling on the water.