Category Archives: Bumpboobs

Two for the road

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Life, Radiotherapy Treatment, Treatment by

Today I said goodbye to the UK chemotherapy ward. This was my last chemo treatment in England, and now (2 more left) it’s all about Canada. My doctor was thanked (I’ll see him again in about 18 weeks), the chemo coordinator hugged, and a Christmas card was given to the nurses. Job done.  🙂

Last June I longed for this moment – these moments – but found it difficult to imagine time would pass. Everything was overwhelming, yet not tangible; goals were blurry shapes in the distance. But guess what? This is real. Soon chemo finishes and we’ll move forward to the next phases: radiation and hormone therapy.

The doctors like to warn me that despite chemotherapy being over, I’ll still likely feel its effects for about six months. Maybe my emotions will go bananas, maybe like treatment I’ll be left exhausted, maybe I’ll still get tree trunk legs and tingle toes and crazy hot flashes . . . maybe I’ll recover beautifully. Won’t know till we get there.

In the meantime I’m thankful for the people in England who have supported me, fed me, encouraged me, humoured me, helped me, entertained me (all those cups of tea!). You’ve seriously made a difference in my life; these past six months could have been shit, but they weren’t and that’s all down to support.

Of course that support goes beyond UK borders, but next week begins a holiday in Canada – 2010 may keep its Cancer Catherine, because 2011 starts with a cancer-free me. England will be a fresh start when I get back (with new treatment), we’ll have overcome a lot of crap. Therefore my Southampton friends and hospital ought to be honoured. Happy Almost New Year everyone!

Fourteen chemotherapy treatments down. Two more to go.

I’ll write about radiotherapy this weekend, and maybe some other stuff too 🙂  but in a seperate post.

Packing my suitacase

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Today is meant for packing, except I’m a terrible early packer. Last minute is the best way to roll, but this year Zsolt and I will be moving across the Atlantic at some point (whenever the permit is granted . . .),  meaning now would be a great time to take the essentials: wedding photos, breakables, sentimental items I’d hate to lose. All that good stuff.

With that in mind, I’ve pulled down the suitcases and dusted them off.

So far the following has been packed:

DVDs I’ve borrowed and need to return to my parents

My wedding shall

Fake hair and boob

Post card collection (once belonging to my great grandmother)

Winter sweaters

Miska (our man-jug we bought in Budapest during a snowstorm last Christmas)

Our ‘home’ (a paper collage made during the marriage course)

. . .

But looking around our apartment, I don’t really feel like packing the rest of it. It’s hard to imagine the transfer of objects into a new environment. When we finally sort out the international move and pack all the boxes, I bet about half our stuff, if not more, will be left behind; from outdated magazines to little-worn clothing, books now unwanted, tip collected shelving, food that’ll expire, and even the couch – loved though it is – not being worth the cost of shipping.

It’s weird. The past 4.5 years in England we’ve been building a nest, and once we move that nest will be picked apart. Mind you, we arrived here with only three suitcases between us, so maybe it’s fitting to leave with a similar amount (plus the boxes shipped by boat). Our first night in England (back in our previous apartment) dinner was served directly from the one pot I’d ‘borrowed’ from my mother and we slept on jackets spread across a bare mattress.  We had airline cups and take away cutlery.  I remember feeling so damn proud once we’d finally bought spices and arranged them in the kitchen cupboard.

There is something very sad about moving, yet . . . something wonderful about a new home. Packing this weekend gives just a peek of that transition.

Change is quickly coming – I could do with a little change, so long as it’s awesome. And Canada is awesome.