Category Archives: Fun

The Resolution List

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Finding Home, Fun, Life, Travel, Writing by

Today the sky is grey, I’m about to get my period (so guess what my mood’s like. Or rather, ask my husband), and this room is rather dark. Having described all that, I’d like to talk about the bright side of things.

(And I’d like to turn on a light in this place. One moment please.

Okay, better.)

Right. So being diagnosed with cancer absolutely and undeniably sucks. I will never be a person to argue against the position, and don’t wish the illness (in any of its varieties) on anyone. Not even the most horrible of horrible people, because chances are someone loves them nevertheless, and cancer is most certainly terrifying and devastating to the ones we love.

(Okay, so I warned you already. I’m about to get my period and am therefore sliding toward a darker tone – but it’s not all bad, because I KNOW I’m a little moody, and can therefore attempt to apologize whenever things get a little too dark. Unfortunately there are no more lights to turn on in this room – oh! But there another widow shade that could be opened. Excuse me.

Better. Much better. Oh, hello natural lighting.)

So we’ve established that caner is bad. But here is another thing – a potentially good thing. It’s also like the BIGGEST perspective-whacking-stick you could ever have, well that and I guess maybe an out of body experience where ghosts of Christmas past, present and future visit you with each stroke of the clock.

And if you had anything in the way of a similar experience to myself (though fair enough if you didn’t, because everyone’s journey is unique), you most likely found yourself making resolutions. These aren’t New Years Eve’s resolutions where you give up chocolate, or promise to go to the library more, or aim to lose five pounds. These are “if my life is at risk, and my mobility and health could end at any time – these are the things I’d wish for most before any more of this crazy shit happens.” So there’s a lot of honesty and desire behind these feelings. These are the resolutions that tap into what it is you want/need most.

So I’m challenging you to make a note and keep it someone. To share it with us. To write it in your diary. To stick it on your fridge. Whatever. If you have been here – if you are here in now in treatment, or were here sometime in the past – or forget cancer even, if you’ve had your life thretened, or hit rock bottom, or just woke up and said:” Oh shit!” then I’m challenging you to sit down and make a list. Get it together in one place.

Back when I was diagnosed my initial and strongest desire was to return back home to Canada. Ultimatly we waited things out, and I’m glad that we did, but cancer firmed me up – Zsolt would immigrate, we were going to move.

Whether this is/isn’t a good thing in our lives remains to be seen. (It’ll be a great thing just as soon as a few strings get tied up . . .) But I can tell you this. While I miss my incredible friends in England, I no longer have this feeling thata piece of me is missing. You know? Like, before diagnosis it dawned on me that Canada and I may be permanently parting ways, and that was totally crushing. Crushing. It broke my heart. This was realized after getting married and setting up life in England. Canada was not in the cards. Crushing.

But then I made a resolution based on a deep, demanding urge. It uprooted everything we had had planned for our lives, however this past July when Zsolt and I boarded the plane to travel to Europe and spend the summer – I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel sick. I was nothing else but happy to be going. And that is really new.

Resolution = accomplished.

Other resolutions were to spend a summer in Balaton and Pecs, which we did last year. It was one of the most healing things I could have chosen. The fact that we are lucky enough to do it again this year is just a freaking miracle. (See, my perspective is brightening, along with the lighting.)

I yearned to travel. After treatment we flew to Portugal and I went in a bikini on the beach. Sure, I don’t have a right boob – but we were on a beautiful beach! The water was gorgeous. The markets were busy (don’t get me started on that awesome cheese) and it was just so freaking fun. Next up! The Atlantic ocean for 7 nights! Resolution = done. And will do again.

I wanted to buy a canoe. How ridiculous for someone who doesn’t even own a car. But guess what, this past June we bought that damn canoe – and even though it’s currently waiting at home in Canada – the pleasure of paddling with my husband on a quiet and lazy river has been huge. Yes, we spent money at a time when it was really stupid to do so (kinda like this trip), but screw it. I used to sit in that chemo chair with those drugs dripping in, and imagine the rivers in Canada – imagined showing Zsolt a loon, and splashing water onto our faces. Resolution = owned.

And yeah, there are BIG resolutions too. Moving to Canada, as I said, was one – and that’s still proving difficult. But my gut took us there, and my gut says this will work out. Having a baby is like the biggest, more life changing resolution ever – but it will happen, and we will get there. Being a professional writer, one step at a time. . . resolutions = still in progress!

It’s not easy.

But it’s good to reflect on the big and the small, and one-by-one tick off the list of chemo/cancer resolutions.

So what are/were your resolutions? I dare you to look back (or look around) and write them down – make them real on the page, and then see what can happen next.

 

My List:

-travel

-go home

-write more & publish

-have a family

-get a canoe

-go to Hungary for the summer

-buy real estate (and a cottage in Balaton)

-split time between Canada and Hungary,

-bring food to those who need it

-dress well/stand out

-eat good food

-be with family

-be with friends

-make this work

 

Could-Not-Stand-It!

Posted in Fun, Life, Travel by

Something strange has come over me, something that has never really happened before. Upon arriving to Hungary, after about 22 hours of travelling, Zsolt and I first visited his sister in Budapest where we stayed the night, then travelled onward to Lake Balaton. At the lake (a lake that holds a big piece of my heart, as many of you know, but where the cottage also gives me crazy allergies after about two nights of sleeping in the big room) we met up with his parents for the weekend. Six of us in the small cottage: Zsolt’s sister, brother-in-law, parents and us. When we pulled up in the car his parents had already arrived; Anna (mother-in-law) came running towards us with her hands waving and say, “Hello, hello!”, then gave us careful and restrained kisses on each cheek. Zsolt followed that up by giving her a hug (even though they normally only kiss on the cheek) and I think she appreciated the affection.

Where was I going with this? Oh, right. . .

Something strange has come over me. I think it’s a combination of last year’s adventure where we moved A-to-Z every half a week visiting friends and family, plus this past week before leaving when we were at a cottage with my family in Canada, then added to by moving from location to location once arriving in Hungary.  Somewhere in there a switch has flipped. Suddenly, without warning, I have developed an extreme need to unpack my suitcase.

Never do I unpack the suitcase, unless we’ve finally arrived home . . . and even then, it takes me a week to bother. But upon leaving Balaton (see you later, you big blue water . . . and allergenic reactions of itchy eyes and throat) and arriving in Zsolt’s beautiful home town of Pecs – I HAD to empty that suitcase.

Didn’t matter if the clothes had to be piled neatly on the floor, the shelves, the desk . . . the only thing I could really think about was taking everything out so I didn’t have to root through the case one more time for a spare sock, or bra (or boob!), or whatever. Thankfully, Anna had made some room on the shelves, so there was the perfect amount of space for my stuff. It’s all out now. The t-shirts, the dresses, the sweaters, the underwear, the vitamins, the beauty stuff.

And what’s even crazier, is that today I TIDIED. Couldn’t stand the growing mess of two days in the same room – had to put everything away where it belonged. Could Not Stand the mess!

What, I ask, has come over me? Back when I was a little girl, I used to push the toys and clothes under my bed (hidden by the dust ruffle) whenever instructed to clean. Even today I don’t love pulling out the gloves and attacking grime and/or dust . . . but an untidied bedroom? No. No. No. No.

So, clearly someone has secretly hypnotized me into a compulsion for order. I have my suspects – you know who you are (mother, father, or husband. Most likely husband. . . Zsolt probably whispers in my ear at night, “clean your side of the bedroom, pick up the mess.”)

Lesson Learned: Apparently some things do change – like patience, temperament, and preferences for having an essentially clutter-free room.

I don’t know how it happened, but it has happened.

Maybe soon I’ll feel a compulsion to clean the bathroom, scrub the floors, vacuum the house, dust the shelves and clean out the fridge. Maybe. But that would take some really strong hypnosis . . .

Sole Searching

Posted in Fun, Life by

As I sit here in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to London to board (with Zsolt beside me trying to sleep), I’d like to stop a moment and consider my footwear: the sandal with socks.

Blue strapped Birkenstocks with a sole shaped to my foot from seasons of wear; thick hiking socks for the winter with heel, toe and arch support. The whole is more powerful than the parts. Put together you not only have a great sandal and warm toes – you have the ultimate source of comfort that your feet could ever enjoy, just short of a pedicure massage with that scented oil mixed with salt. You have, ladies and gentlemen, the perfect compromise.

Support from the study cork sole mixed with security of the leather straps. But unlike a shoe the sandal is an open forum of air, sweat, and exchange. “My feet will get cold!” you say? Meet the sock – the thick multi-coloured hiking sock: often found ‘too warm’ within the conventional shoe, coupled with a sandal, the warmth provided is of the perfect temperature – moisture is whisked away from the body, preventing stink, and air conditioning can’t get at you with its chill.

Okay, so people – some people – hate the combination. But I would say they’ve never really given it a good shot. Just spend a full afternoon in the mix, and you’ll be a convert.

Socks and sandals are totally cool. They’re cool because they’re quality. What else really matters?

So on that note we are flying off to England, then on to Austria, then on to Budapest (a la bus), then Erd (a la car). It’s a lonnnnnnnng trip. So long, I had to insert those extra ‘n’s just so you could get a sense. But the end will be totally worthwhile. Visiting family is always fun, plus a change of scenery never hurts, and I happen to be a great big fan of Lake Balaton (where time stands still and the sun always shines).

This week I’ve heard some hard things – not related to me directly, but with people I know both online and in the real world. Hard, stupid things that made me stomp my feet and say ‘what the frack’. Unfortunately, that’s the way it is and in these situations it’s out of my hands.  Maddening stuff – infuriating stuff – heart-breaking stuff. It’s really hard to be diagnosed with cancer, really freaking hard, but also even more heartbreaking with people you care about suffer the same fate.

But I read something this week that struck a chord and made me think: ‘yes.’

It was a plea from one of the bloggers online who has been told some very rough news. She asked us to enjoy the moment. Do it for her. Do it for yourself.

So here we are in the moment. My feet are comfortable. The plane is loading. I’m married to an incredible man. We are okay. We are a-okay. And despite all the stress of jobs and hospitals and doctors and whatever . . . we are about to have an awesome adventure. Despite all the crap, good things can happen, and it’s not worth feeling guilty over. Is it – no, it’s not. It’s worth celebrating, and appreciating . . . cause you never know when the party ends.

Sorry – my light hearted post about footwear just turned sombre. I’ll stop. The thing with writing these posts is all kinds of emotions can pour onto the page. (And honestly, I’ve got the stopper in pretty tight, so this is just some of the really determined stuff getting through.)

It will be good to eat goulash. Good to sit by the water. Good to go for bike rides. Good to escape the stressors. Good to eat a langos. Good to see Zsolt’s family. Good to meet with friends. And SO good to sail across the Atlantic.

Look out – there’s a heck of a great summer on the way so we may as well enjoy it. Here, in the moment,  life can be so good. (Thank goodness.)

P.S. No time for spell check! Boarding!