Category Archives: Bumpboobs

Sunday night rambles

Posted in Bumpboobs, Life by

This weekend was great – excellent – wonderful – tiring! Yesterday morning (and early afternoon) was all about cleaning. We tidied, then scrubbed, then dusted, then vacuumed, then basked the in glory of an attractive apartment. One highlight was the ‘opening of the windows’, which means stripping away the sealant we applied last October (our windows are terrible. They’re double glazed, but not installed properly so the cold wind just pushes through).

Life has been full of small, enjoyable activities like reading events, cleaning,  hanging with Zsolt,  meeting with friends, an laughing till I cried. It’s been lovely.  Driving home today from our downtown excursion (I set off with ‘new jeans’ as  goal, but didn’t find anything great. Zsolt, however, landed some nice trousers.) we passed the hospital where I had my MRI. It was strange, all in a flash it felt as though we were going there again. I felt what it was like to walk through the entrance, to put on the gown, and wait for the scan. In the snap of a finger, I remembered.

Maybe that’s how it’ll be. Life will pass quickly as ever, with post-traumatic memory snaps.

Things to do this week:

1) Write. (as always!)

2) Measure my mattress to send away for a shipping quote.

3) Look up discount flights. Zsolt and I are thinking of going on a mini-break during the first or second week of August.

4) Go through closet and get rid of an optimistic 50% of clothing.

This past weekend has been a lovely holiday from life. But Monday’s coming (Monday’s here?) and therefore it’s back to work. And that’s is all I have to say. Just a quick Sunday night update for Lulu, who is probably checking and thinking, ‘it’s been a few days since Catherine has written.’

Not anymore! Bonne journée!

CAtherine

Living in a crazy mess

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Finding Home, Life, Treatment by

At the very end of Edible Woman there is a scene where she bakes a cake. Her entire apartment is catastrophic with mess, mould and disarray. Instead of cleaning the place, she buys new ingredients (flour, sugar, salt, etc), a new baking tray, new cake moulds, new measuring cups – new everything, and she bakes her lady cake. And somehow in that mess, once the cake is iced and ready, somehow she finds a little freedom from the madness.

This is how I feel in my apartment. For the past three days I’ve had one slipper missing, so have been walking around the flat with double layer socks on my right foot, and a moccasin slipper on my left. There is a constant pile of dishes across the counter, and the mite protection sheet of my bed (which last week I washed) has been sitting on the sofa waiting for me to strip the mattress – in the meanwhile it’s attracted my handbag, backpack, toque, apron, headphones, sweater, jeans, trackpants, running shoes, jacket, blanket, scarf and shall. The floor needs a good vacuum. The bedroom needs to be tidied . . .  the bathroom is okay, so at least there is that.

Anyhow, it’s a little crazy here. Zsolt in the meanwhile is at his computer totally absorbed into this thesis (because if he wasn’t, I’d never get away with leaving my things everywhere). I’m counting down the hours to his submission because: 1) It’s an incredible achievement and I’m bursting with pride over my brilliant man and 2) I miss having the dishes washed every morning.

Honestly, between Zsolt and I – he is the better housekeeper. Lately we’ve been taking turns. During chemo he did the tidying. During thesis I’d do the tidying . . . but now we’re both managing projects (radiotherapy recover and thesis polishing) at the same time.

Here is a good question: how do people with children manage? I really, really admire all the mothers and fathers who somehow produce a liveable household for their family. I cannot understand how you do it, which makes your results all the more impressive.

So – waiting for that moment of clarity now. Maybe it’ll come in the form of moving boxes, charity shop donations, and the inevitable vacating of this property. Who knows? Hopefully, eventually, I’ll at least find my other slipper.

Time for common sense

Posted in Bumpboobs, Treatment by

Today I opened my twitter account to find a message from an old friend. She forwarded me a link (this link, in fact) to a Globe and Mail article discussing how a woman, Jill Anzaru who has breast cancer is not eligible for the needed medication coverage. Why? Because her tumour was too small. The cancer in her breast was too small. . .still cancer, but small. Less than 1 cm.

My head is shaking.

Yes, I understand lines need to be drawn – but you would think that cancer would be more black and white. Did you get cancer? Okay, here’s the treatment. I’m in a similar situation; at the moment while living in the UK, my tamoxifen is covered. Tamoxifen is a drug that significantly drops the likelihood of reoccurrence in breast cancer patients (like Herceptin, this lady’s needed med). In the UK I am covered because I had cancer. In Ontario I’m not covered.

Why?

Because I’m under 65 years old. Yes, I had breast cancer – but too early for coverage. Luckily for me, Tamoxifen is an affordable medication. Unlucky for Jill and her too-small CANCER tumour, her medication costs a whack load of cash (if you even have a whack load of cash to spend, apparently Herceptin costs about $40,000/year for treatment).

Fighting cancer is expensive, and with so many patients I understand that guidelines need to be drawn. Right. But with that said, common sense has got to be employed. A thirty-five year old woman gets cancer. One of the first things they tell you as a young BC fighter is  that, ‘considering your age the doctor is likely to recommend an aggressive therapy,’ because we have a long road (i.e. life) ahead of ourselves, and we need to fight with all possible weapons. Obviously, that includes medication.

I’m sorry to hear this woman needs to battle for better, affordable treatment. She’s just about to start chemotherapy, and I remember that apprehension and fear. There’s already one fight going on between you and your body, anything extra is just not okay – heck, I got stressed out when Air Canada gave me trouble over a flight home. Just imagine her anxiety over a fight for her future.

Anyhow – Jill, if you can hear me : I’m wishing you loads of courage, strength, and determination. Hopefully common sense grants you the medication. Fingers crossed.

P.S. I am glad to hear your cancer was caught early. Despite all these troubles, that in itself is a very good thing.