Category Archives: Treatment

My dad and his cake

Posted in Bumpboobs, Life, Love, Treatment by

My dad has a rightly earned spot of pride for his caramel cake. And on special occasions, occasions so special they celebrate the sweet tooth, he whips out this secret family recipe and struts his culinary skills.


And I mean secret. Only one person knows the recipe . . . guess who.

I can’t even remember if he’s offered to teach us. My father and I hold a rivalry in the kitchen. He claims to be the better cook. I – obviously – disagree. We had a cook off one year, and because he went first (it was a nice roast, granted) I was able to step up the game with a meal of buttered potatoes and I can’t remember what else (these potatoes were so good, that the rest of the night draws blank).

But when it comes to dessert I just can’t whip him. Sure, he always pulls out the caramel cake, but I’ve never countered with a better option.

So today Dad, for your birthday, I will concede this point: you make the better cake.

Happy birthday 🙂 Love you.

The great escape

Posted in Chemotherapy, Food, Treatment by

Sleep is peace and distance and rest. It is a vacation from worry. And when I wake up – no matter what stage in treatment – there are always a few moments where everything feels normal. I feel normal.

Last night I dreamt of a giant raspberry – it was about the size of a toque (or a beanie, for you non-Canadians). I peeled it from the stem; the smell was sharp, the feel fantastic, and it was wet with seams of juice. Have you ever looked inside a raspberry? The way the seeds and sacks all weave together? Well it was like that, only so large you could put it on your head. I thought – this would be the perfect hat.

Instead I made it into a pie.

Now that’s just a segment of my dream; it’s an example of the wonderful places a good night’s rest can take you. Sure, okay, there are bad dreams and they happen occasionally – but normally it’s a mixture of the fantastic and familiar (with a dash of action advenutre – though not the pie making, of course). The nausea and the anxiety get left behind.

I love the night time. It’s an excuse for me to relax. Last night I was asleep by 8.30pm. Gorgeous! It had been a long day filled with anxiety over eating and not eating, and drinking and not drinking, plus Zsolt’s crazy work place. But as soon as that clocked ticked over to 8.30 – click – lights out, hold my calls.

Time for a sleep vacation.

A whole lotta love

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

This post is for Lulu, who worries when I don’t write. Bonjour, Lulu!

Things are coming along. Friday was treatment, today Zsolt and I spent the morning in bed talking. It’s easier when he is here to distract me with chit chat. My thoughts are really the problem  – they trigger the sickness to become overwhelming. And for some reason this round of chemo is more difficult than the last. Probably because we didn’t stop the nausea in time.

But this has been a nice morning. I am now eating a few slices of cucumber and Zsolt is in the kitchen with the dishes. It’s 11.30 am, we’ve been up since 8.30. The ability to rest together is a good sign for a relationship, isn’t it? Back in the day Zsolt and I would spend entire (and I mean entire) morning in bed just talking. We still do of course, but not every weekend. Sometimes there is work, other times there is treatment, and others we have company. I really cherish our morning – plus it gives me something better to type about than nausea etc.

The past couple days have been draining. Keeping food down  is a challenge, which frustrates me because my weight was just starting to rise again. I’d like another three weeks off, please. I’d also like a house in Balaton and a house in Canada – since I’m in the asking mood. And a promise that this cancer will never, ever, ever come back.

My mother and I have made a list. Nicole had suggested making a list of things to look forward to (see comment from past post Help for those helping) and I’m quite glad we did. Here are a few things that Mom and I look forward to doing:

Going to the spa.

Making Christmas cookies.

Sharing a poutine.

Playing cranium with the family.

Visiting a tea shop.

Putting up the tree.

Seeing family again.

There are more things, but that’s a taster. It was really fun to make the list; mom would slowly read it back so I could imagine each activity. There is much to look forward to, and I’m trying to keep my mind focused on those goals. But thank goodness for the people around me. Without them I’d be drifting back to chemo, the room, the syringes . . . and that’s no good, believe me.

The doctors and nurses keep offering me mood relaxing drugs. I keep saying no. What I really need are positive distractions and a whole lot of love. A whole lotta love. Luckily it’s all around.

*Once I feel better I’ll write about the picc line – but give me a couple days yet.