Category Archives: After treatment

Onto better things

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Life, Reading, Writing by

Whew, good morning and good day. Yesterday I couldn’t bear to write a post for this blog – it wasn’t for a lack of ideas, but rather a lack of BRAIN power. That is it say, I was tired.

Ho Crap! Have only just checked the clock. It’s 7.58 am, which means I have woken up abnormally early considering I was so incredibly tired yesterday. But that is what writing does to me : I get these ideas inside my head, and sooner than later they turn into running narratives . . . almost like a dictation .  . . and if I don’t write it all down, the words will keep circling around and prodding me. This may sound crazy (maybe?), however, it is also the truth. But it’s no wonder Zsolt is still in bed. Normally he’s first up and out, so this morning when I rolled away from the covers and he was still totally asleep, I just thought it was because the poor man stayed up till like 2am last night with his thesis.  Nope. It’s just crazy early here.

At least, in the student world it’s crazy early. For normal 9-5ivers to wake up at eight must be equivalent to sleeping in. Anyhow…

Right! Went to London last Wednesday and believe this is a city not to be eaten in small bites. Yes, you get a taste – but really, a visit in the afternoon isn’t enough time to soak up everything the capital offers. It’s easy to understand why people take a 2m x 2m apartment just to stay in the city; with all those shops and pubs and restaurants and BOOK LAUNCHES and shows and incredible neighbourhoods, what’s so wrong with living in a closet? Not a darn thing.

Anyhow, we navigated the subway system and found our way to Holland Park. First things first (and being about 2 hours early), we stopped in at a French Patisserie named Paul. This place was lovely, and all the servers with their white cook hats had French accents. Are they really French? Quite possibly. Anyhow – they had all sorts of gluten-filled goodies, so I abstained and ordered a large mug of tea instead.

One hour later it was onto the pub for dinner with friends (and a twenty meter walk down from the bakery). Funny, I’d arrive for the evening with black stockings on, but my built-in slip did not extend to the actual bottom of the dress. This is inconvenient,  becausewhile walkin the bottom strip of fabric would start to inch-inch-inch-up with every freaking step. Anyhow, I made the executive decision to remove the stockings and just wear my knee high socks – thus flashing a lot of bare legged thigh, and ended up looking like an Asian-fusion stewardess/school girl with my combo of dress and socks, all wrapped up in a polka dot jacket that also cuts at the thigh (thus giving no help to the rising skirt situation) – but then throw on top of everything my incredibly short hair and I really must have come off as eccentric (or as a breast cancer warrior, maybe I should have pinned a ribbon for clarity). But if there’s anything chemo has taught me it’s that even when you feel/look like shit, it always pays to stand up straight. So on Wednesday night when I doubted my outfit (though it was fine, not chemo-bad at all), I at least tried to stand up straight.

Did you know that London, or at least Holland Park Avenue, is chalk full of late twenty and thirty-somethings? This is a mecca for the post-uni, pre-middle age crowd. I loved it.

Anyhow – finally we arrived for the launch of The Cloud Messenger, held at Daunt Books. It’s strange going to someone else’s party; I always wonder, ‘who the heck will I speak to?’ And indeed there were moments of awkward milling (And nerves! I’m just terrible in new situations), but thanks to social lubrication (wine) and a friend graciously making introductions, it was an interesting evening of chatter, new people, listening to Aamer read his lovely passage, and essentially enjoying that bookish buzz. Great stuff.

Fast forward to the train ride home, then a crash into bed. Best part of the evening : snuggling with Zsolt and talking about the party. Followed by sleeping, which is always wonderful.

And speaking of which, Zsolt has just woken up. I’m going to go and jump on him. (this poor man is spiriting to the finish line and banging his head against a wall simultaneously; PhD theses are not for the weak-willed, that’s for sure. But he’s almost there. Almost there! All I can do is make him tea.)

Signing off!

PS- it’s so nice to write about a day that has NOTHING to do with cancer. Okay, talking about cancer now kind of ruins it, but really, I have to say how wonderful it feels. The entirety of Wednesday was dedicated to things other than cancer. Awesome x 20.

Interview with myself

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Radiotherapy Treatment by

Tomorrow is my last day of radiotherapy. Last day of treatment. Day of treatment. Treatment. Day. Last . . . Sorry, bit of a tangent there. Anyhow, I’m going to interview myself about this experience and see what happens. *Warning, my stomach is all bubbles right now, and this may influence my answers.

Me: Catherine, how do you feel about finishing treatment?

Me: Great, it’s been a heck of a process and I’m glad things are wrapping up.

Me: Any nerves about the future? I’ve heard that patients often feel a loss after finishing treatment and aren’t sure what to do next.

Me: Nerves? Hmm. Yes. I’ve heard recurrence is most likely within the first two years, and then there is that five year mark as well. Also, I guess I’m a wee bit nervous to learn whether or not I’m genetically inclined toward breast cancer/ovarian cancer because if so it might mean tough decisions in the future . . . when really, I’d like to forget this ever happened.

Me: Do you think you’ll ever forget?

Me. Nope. Maybe I’ll forget to remember, but this past year has been life changing – the impact is ingrained into my life, kind of absorbed, for better and for worse. So that’s hard to forget, though I hope I might eventually forget to remember.

Me: What do you mean, better and worse?

Me: Better as in I value life, value health, value everything more than before. Mind you, I’ve always been thankful for being here. . . but cancer was a wake-up/shake-up, which everyone probably has in their life – and they are good things because in hard times we cling to what most matters. I clung to my family and friends, and to my writing. It really made priorities come into the forefront. That’s incredibly valuable. Plus, I’ll be going home for a while too, which is nice.

Me: And worse?

Me: Worse . . . worse as in, there is this shadow that I push into the background but can’t detach myself from. I’ll always have the appointments, the screenings, the need to take medication and supplements galore . . . when really I’d rather just ditch it all and go live by Horseshoe Lake as a reclusive writer who brews excellent tea, loves her husband and is often visited by friends and family. . . but that’s just hiding from the problem (and it’s not like I can’t have both realities at once, I can have a lakefront home and take medication, of course). Hiding is no more a solution than whining.

Me: What has cancer meant to you?

Me: That’s a stupid question. It’s not like cancer is some long time friend who means the world to me, cancer is cancer. It means struggle, but if I can make this past year worth something, then cancer will maybe mean change. Change . . . opportunity. I guess it’s not a stupid question, but cancer isn’t my friend. Even if my life improves as a result (which is great and I’m open for that to happen), even then, cancer isn’t friendly. However, there are worse wake-up calls.

Me: What’s next for you after treatment?

Me: I have a long list of obligations, holidays, plans . . . but I guess at the core of everything is the idea of moving forward and reclaiming my life. My plan is to reclaim my life – feel good in my skin, feel good in my efforts. I also look forward to my period, which I’m still hoping for, because it’d be lovely to start a family in a couple years.

Me: Would you like a cup of tea right now? Or maybe a sliced orange?

Me: Yes, how did you know?

Me: Lucky guess.

And so I’m going now to steep some tea and slice an orange. Tomorrow is radiotherapy for the last time. And I really, really want this to be the LAST time. Fingers crossed for long-lasting positive results! Hopefully this past year has been worth the effort.  Yay for the end of radiotherapy!!

Awesome visa to Canada

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Canada, Finding Home, Life by

Good Saturday to you. Outside my apartment the bed sheets are drying – or were drying, because it’s broken out with rain – and the day is (otherwise) going well. On the kitchen table are several piles of books, the beginning of our moving purge, and on Zsolt’s desk beside his papers and text books and calculator and pen is . . . HIS TOTALLY AWESOME VISA INTO CANADA!

WOOOHOOO! It arrived in the mail today, and it’s GIANT. This larger than A4 visa and has his name, country of birth, photo, visa class, and says something along the lines of, ‘don’t write on this paper until you are with immigration inside Canada.’

She is a tease, this immigration system. While we’ve jumped the hoops and filled the paperwork, there is still a stipulation stating that this visa is not a guarantee they’ll let Zsolt into Canada. Bah. I’m not worried because clearly Zsolt is perfect for Canada, and has a truly valid case. Confidence in your situation is a really good thing – it gives a determination that even if things take time or are questioned, they will work out. I know Zsolt will get into Canada a-okay. That is that.

And apart from this I’m taking today for a little housekeeping – yes, the rain sheets count, sorting,  chillaxing (relaxing), and of course, blogging.

In celebration of this writing, and because I was told that it’s the thing to do, I’ve made a website/online CV. It’s www.CatherineBrunelle.com , feel free to check her out if you have the time.

So – as previously said: Good Saturday to you. (If I ever create a business it’s going to have a four day work week: Four days on. Three days off. Screw precedent.) Hope you enjoy this wonderful weekend!

PS – Oneeeeee Treatment LEFTTTTT Ohhhohohohdfohsfoasdhsdljf! [Too excited to write properly] OOhkjsdf Yeahhlkjad YWwOoohoooo! YES! YESSSSIIRRRREEBOOBBBIES!

PPS- Seems the rain has now turned into hail. Hmmm. Maybe I should have grabbed the sheets earlier. . .  oh well!