Under my tree

I had a particularly good day yesterday for a number of reasons, one big one being the boost of steroids and food. But this experience I feel is worth turning on the computer to capture at 2:40 AM.

Zsolt and I were relaxing on the front porch last evening, enjoying the massive sway of maple leaves mixing with a breeze and the gold evening light. Zsolt was mentioning how his friend enjoys recording short videos to remember the feeling of a place, rather than what it looked like alone with a photo.

This made me think a little.

I think, I replied, that I like to actually be in a place that has captured a piece of who I am, rather than a picture or a video…. being there, in that spot, whether it be an evening by the lake in Balaton or sitting under the tree I have literally grown along with all my life . . . that is what is really is to remember who, and what i am. That is when a piece of what makes me, me, shines. It reminds me that life is far more than a picture, or film, or a place to sit, a thing to let happen, a bed. These experiences are pieces of what I am. They make me, and they remind me of what I am.

So, I like them best. Far better than any form of art or screen.

Places that make me:

Under my tree

Balaton in the evening

The pond in Rockliff

The lake in Jasper called Horseshoe

The pool with family on a hot day

A drive with the window down and the music blaring

Eating into an orange that drips with sweet tangy juice

Sticking my face into a watermelon on a hot day

Warm cookies that are home made, not too sweet, and mine

A cup of tea and milk

Ice water

Little mountain villages with water down the middle






I am all of these things


Medical marijuana and ear wax

Okay, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna write this blog post. And I’m going to keep it short!


With my total lack of appetite, and nausea to boot, I’m exploring the world of medical marijuana. There is a clinic in Ottawa called the Canadian Cannabis Clinic, or something along those lines. My care coordinator recommended it to me, and my family doctor referred me over there after I kindly asked her to do so.

(by the way, I also had my ears cleaned out at my family doctor’s. After a lifetime of not flushing my ears, I got a satisfying plug of wax released from each ear. It was wonderfully gross. As my lovely audience in the room can attest to.)

Anyhow, eventually I ended up at the CCC for an appointment. It went very well! Apparently, there are different properties of week and different strengths that can be purchased. The CCC took my history, and then I spoke with a doctor via Skype. She helped to explain and explore the dosing and strains that might best suit me. And after that, I was passed to a care coordinator – who hooked me up with a legal supplier, and helped me find a product to try. Overall, very helpful! I look forward to trying the goods and see if it can help.

Best part was, the consultation was covered by OHIP, so I didn’t need to pay anything for the visit. That was a surprise.

When so many other things are going a little crazy, it was nice that this could be fairly easy. Many steps, but fairly easy.

Zsolt is SO busy at work. Every time I see the guy he has a lap top in his hands. I can barely get him to leave the house! It’s great that he is so fulfilled at his work. Next I hope they can find a balance so I get my man on the weekends.

And finally I’m painting a painting for my mother, and am VERY intimidated. I really don’t want to mess this up or make it look boring. But I keep telling myself, if you don’t have fun there is no point – so relax. My mom doesn’t mind if it is terrible, but I’m sure she would like it even more if it weren’t! We went to the shop together and picked out the colours she likes, and a massive canvas. Honestly it is the canvas that intimidates me. Plus all that pain I’ll needs. Oh well – on wards!

That is it. There is a mass in my chest pushing on my abdomen and stomach – so I had a CT for that, and will ultrasound it later. I hope something can be done. I hope.


Okay that is really it. I could write more, but I’m not inclined to do so.

Therefore, done.

P.S. I had a blood transfusion. The best thing about a blood transfusion (apart from the life giving fresh healthy cells and the amazing anonymous donor who helped me so much) is the four hours I get to sleep in a bed during the day, and not feel at all guilty about the time ‘wasted’. Guilt free blood transfusions, a great way to rest.


Hello, it has been awhile.

But here I am again writing to you, and to me, and to . . . I don’t know. Just writing.

Modest Mouse’s Float On is playing on the speakers. It’s Spotify playing through. I first heard this song in 2005, while staying at a hostel in Marseilles and encountering a group of very rowdy Brits. They kept playing it as we went to the beach, trolled the late night downtown streets and just had a good old time in general. One of them could open a bottle of beer with his teeth. They were all life guards, which was reassuring because we all swam to a cave only accessible by water – and it was a long swim. No one drown, thank goodness. We hitchhiked back from the tiny beach that lead to the cave, but my brother and I were the only ones who could get a car because of my French. Everyone else walked the long, long walk back to the hostel.

The song is long over now. I’m not a fast typer.

This past week has been quite fine. Not bad. Not fireworks. Should every moment be fireworks? That is basically impossible. It would certainly be exhausting. But then, I’m exhausted all the time anyhow. I can’t even bring myself to go out for tea, which is MADNESS.

It’s getting more difficult to ‘be’. My energy is so low that the stairs at home are a challenge and leave me winded (with a splash of low blood pressure dizziness). I suspect I need a blood transfusion. While chemo these days are pills I pop from home, they are nevertheless chemotherapy. It’s fucking exhausting. However, I am hoping a transfusion, if deemed necessary, will pick me up. But then there’s the issue of the bulge. The bulge is in the lower part of my solar plexus and it is hard. It presses into my stomach giving me nausea. Not sure what can be done about it, but I’ll see a doctor next week to discuss.

Now that song about funked up kicks is playing. It’s both very disturbing, and very catchy. Leaves me conflicted.

The other day, the women who cleans my parents home said to me, “I didn’t know you are an artist” and I was like, “whaaa?” because I am no artist. But she enjoyed the tiny series I painted that features my feet, Zsolt’s feet, and our hands. And truth be told, it was really nice to hear her words. But I’m not an artist and have no desire to be. Not officially. If I’m anything, I’m a professional napper. Nap this! Nap that! Nap here! Nap there!

Went to a local spa in the woods the other day with my mother. It’s called the Nordic. Lovely place, a very nice location to relax in Ottawa. But if you have brain fog and are weak as a noodle, and on top of that, scary skinny, it’s not such an easy place to navigate. Their handicapped parking was blocked when I arrived, and all the padded chairs in the cabanas were removed so my bony butt had to rest upon the hard planks of their wooden seats. And then, having trouble focusing as I do, navigating the stone steps in the place was really challenging too. My poor mother had to haul our bags around the resort because I can’t carry heavy things. BUT we had a lovely lunch, and the infinity pool was lovely and, had I been able to handle them, the saunas are always a treat. My inability to navigate their premise is really a reflection on how much I’ve changed rather than any comment on the resort – except for their lack of chairs in the entrance and that parking situation – not cool at all. But I still think it is wonderful there. I just also think I shouldn’t go again without gaining more strength. And bringing a cushion for my skinny butt.

How entitled am I, using a spa to benchmark my state of health?!… Ah well, I’m lucky in that aspect and will accept that luck wherever it comes from.

We finally found a name for the car: Little Zoomer! And guess what the little zoomer did this week, turned on it’s check engine light. Curse words! *&^%$^! We are taking it in on Thursday for an exam. We shall see. I’m also taking myself in this week to get this hard mass looked at by a doctor. We’ll see about that one too.

And now, my water bottle calls.


P.S. What a game last night. Go sens GO!