Category Archives: Bumpboobs

Aunt flow pays a visit

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Fertility by

Whew – touchdown. We’re finally back from the graduate weekend. Zsolt is officially Dr Zsolt and we now turn, to borrow a phrase from Terri, to a fresh chapter in our lives. He is no longer a student, instead, he is officially unemployed. Ha! I am joking. At the moment our status is “we’re on vacation so leave us alone.” Employment can wait a little longer (though not too much longer).

Oh, big surprise this weekend. With the steady decline of my hot flashes (essentially disappearing with the heat wave some weeks ago) followed by a bout of cramps and what I could have sworn was ‘Ovulation Catherine’ – you know that woman, Ovulation Cindy, Ovulation Grace, Ovulation Anna, Ovulation anyone who is ovulating, craves chocolate, feels emotional and is above all horny. Following these signs (plus a week of absolutely no signs, except perhaps a tender abdomen), last Sunday after a particularly happy weekend where I visited so many friends and had such a good time, well – there she was in the morning: Aunt Flow.

She arrived promptly in the AM with bagfuls of luggage. Heavy luggage. More luggage than I’d ever seen in my life, which frankly was worrying, because after a year of no luggage, to have so much suddenly was quite a shock. I was off to the pharmacy every two minutes buying bulkier and bulkier supplies to deal with the onslaught. It was a very interesting day.

All the while (as we tour the Isle of Wight with Zsolt’s parents, who kindly never asked why the heck I kept disappearing) I’m wondering to myself: “is this normal? Is it menstruation or a sign of ovulary cancer? Am I about to bleed to death?” But then I looked at the obvious: flow with no dizziness, pain or fatigue . . . everything was normal.

Normal! After a year of menopausal mayhem in my twenties, suddenly something normal was happening. It felt weird.

So bye-bye menopause. Except, of course, for yesterday in the plane ride back from England where I was riding successive hot flashs as the plane descended for landing. “Zsolt, is it warm in here or am I having a hot flash?” Apparently my body in currently in limbo between menstruation and menopause.

So – babies, anyone? This is absolutely confusing now. If I have my period, then it must mean something ovulated. Whether it’s a usable egg is unknown . . . actually, the entire thing confuses me, which is why I’ve decided to rely on the words Zsolt’s lovely friend said to me the other day (as we sat on Margaret Island and watched the fountain rise and fall with the Mozart soundtrack). This is what she said, and I found it incredibly touching: “Catherine, you don’t have to worry about having children, because I pray for you everyday.”

Very touching.

And so, for now, I’ve decided not to worry. Her confidence is reassuring, and while everything can be so confusing (test results, my body, menopause, menstruation) I prefer to take refuge in faith . . . even if it isn’t always my own.

So I try not to worry as my body switches and questions come soaring into my mind. It is a constant struggle to stop the anxiety, but then I remember her kind words and suddenly life becomes calm.

Calm like the glassy turquoise ocean round the Isle of Wight, gently peaking with tips of froth and deep in that ‘swim in me now’ color. And I listen as the waves lap against the shore, and a lone seagull in the sky – calling – dives away from sight.

Calm like a moment in the sunlight, with nothing but horizon and quiet and blue.

Calm.

I love me a little Calm.

And so, my body tumbles forward, changing toward the normal. It’s a good thing.

(And as you can see, gets me going rather lyrically. I can’t help it – really, I can’t. Writing taps into my heart, and my heart is abundantly sentimental. I cannot help the tone. It’s a little cheesy, but then, I do love a strong slice of cheese.)

Getting high off social media (& tea)

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

So I’m totally going to write a real post one of these days soon (considering Zsolt is about to graduate, that’s certainly something to write about), but just wanted to go on a little about how much FUN I’m having with RSS feeds.

Why I’ve always ignored that little ‘RSS’ icon posted across the land of blogs is a mystery. Really, the power of observation should have tipped me off that something good is happening (somewhat like linkedin, which I will, eventually, join . . . though with twitter, facebook, two (sometimes three) blogs, and google+,  another account to check feels slightly annoying. Maybe I’ll create it, then ignore it. . . . though I’ve heard linkedin has different connotations than facebook (family) or twitter (BC community) – it’s about professional engagement, or something.)

Anyhow : to do, look into linkedin.

But I diverge!

RSS feeds are an actual pleasure in the world of social media obligations. This is because it does a giant group hug presentation of all the blogs I’m reading. So each morning, I open my lovely reader, and before me is a list of every new post. No more having to remember each URL, no more subscribing to email notifications . . . everything is here, everything is easy.

I. Like. Easy.

Lately there’s so much talk about social media – and you know, I enjoy the conversation. Clearly (and saying this shows how ‘behind the times’ I currently am) social media is the next step in marketing and advertising, which has always held a fancy for me. Ever since that single Mass Communications class in university, first year, I’ve found the area fascinating. There’s so much PSYCHOLOGY behind communication, and now social media (live-feed communication) is on our phones, in our laptops, on the news . . . even in the freaking newspaper with ‘local tweets’ ‘celebrity tweets’ ‘prominent tweets’ etc (there should be a section called, ‘Catherine’s tweets’ – ha! I’d talk about which ice cream I’d sampled that day. Hazelnut topped with chocolate and cream.)

Gosh, if I had a single inclination to go back in time and re-do university (which I don’t) I’d totally study communications. It’s fascinating.

Anyhow, so here I am this morning with my cup of green tea, scanning the daily blogs. [Coincidently, bumyboobs can easily be added to such readers since it’s WordPress. Yes, I just plugged myself.] Maybe it’s the tea that’s got me so excited. The morning caffeine punch has just kicked in.

In any case, I’m off to do a little reading.

Get a haircut and a real job

Posted in After treatment, moving to canada by

It’s the fifteenth of July, and I’m starting to think about work. This summer is dedicated to vacation, and there’s really no point in applying anywhere till Zsolt finds a job himself and we suss out the local area (because neither of us want to make 1 hour commutes everyday). But the reality of reality* is slowly lurking at the back of my mind.

This weekend Zsolt, his brother-in-law, sister  (Berci and Anita) and I are going to a small Hungarian town named Mezőcsát. (Looked up on Wikipedia, Mezőcsát is quoted as being: “a small town in Borsod-Abaúj-Zemplén county, Northern Hungary, 35 kilometers from county capital Miskolc.”) Though I’m sure it’s much more than that. Firstly, it’s Berci’s home town. Home grown country boy. And secondly, it’s small town living complete with pigs, chicken coops, hard alcohol and thermal caves. The weekend should be quite an adventure. And I imagine, not fit for vegetarians. (The meat  produced from this family is incredible: sausages, kobasz, bacon, rind, ham everything. They use all the pig.)

So we’ll be going there this weekend. And then, ticking in the back of my head, will be Zsolt’s upcoming graduation (here comes the stupid floppy hat for my Dr Zsolt!) plus that inevitable question: do you have jobs yet?

Ay. No.

I’ve told Zsolt our standard answer is as follows: ‘we’re still on vacation’ (though secretly looking online and thinking, just as soon as we finish grad, to begin drafting Zsolt a resume . . . the man has been a professional student up until this point in his life. PhDs are very impressive, but along with that piece of paper, another scrap of paper (i.e. the resume) is required.)

And yet – even though ‘work’ is starting to nibble on my toes as I float across lake Balaton – I’m not entirely worried. Things work out. One way or another, things will work out. They always do. Zsolt thinks I’m ridiculous for assuming everything will be peaches and cream, but I can’t suppress my optimistic tendency. Besides, when haven’t things worked out? Okay, I personally have worked a number of crappy jobs in the past (experience building), but I’ve also worked some wonderful jobs as well. And frankly, one slice of experience raised me up for another, and so things have worked out. Just like I’m certain they will in Ottawa.

In honour of these ‘future flashes’ I’ve started trying to improve my French. All the lovely placements in Ottawa require bilingual speakers (hey, I can do French, but to call myself fluently bilingual would be a generous, very excessively way out and probably too much, falsehood.) However, bit by bit things are refreshing and I’m optimistic (again) it will improve more as time ticks forward.

Anyhow, we’re at that limbo stage of our careers – where things will happen, and yet, haven’t happened. In the meanwhile I really ought to avoid Monster.ca, because it’s depressing. Instead I’ll try to focus on this weekend’s adventure in the Hungarian country side. And let this summer be as it was intended: a vacation.

*PS – This opens onto a fairly interesting subject. What will happen if my possible future employers Google my name and ‘oh!’ find breast cancer everything. Am I worried about discrimination? You bet your sweet ass I’m worried about discrimination. And yet, at the start of my blog – it felt absolutely impossible to hide the truth of my reality. Secrets were not healthy or supportive. So I made a choice between anonymity and saying my name aloud. To this day I don’t regret the decision, but do worry how it might impact my future. Will employers reject me? Will possible donors/adoptive agencies/birth mothers reject me? I don’t know. All I know is at this moment I’m cancer free.  And anyone who discriminates because of my history is not someone with whom I need to work. That’s for sure. I’m bursting with good stuff to offer – cancer is part of my story, but it’s not the longest chapter.  (Okay, I’ll get off my high horse now. It’s a touchy subject. ) Things will, I suppose, work out.