Category Archives: Love

Why do we fight?

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Love, Treatment by

Now here is something a little personal. And no, this post isn’t about sex – although I could go on about that as well. But today is about fighting.

One and a half years ago, Zsolt and I promised to be loyal to one another. We promised for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, and to love one another till death do us part.

But we never promised not to fight.

Generally speaking Zsolt and I are an easygoing and happy couple. Things happen, we adapt, we have a talk, we share a laugh, we watch a movie and move on. Plates have never been thrown, and voices are hardly ever raised. Generally speaking, we don’t fight.

But then put us in a small apartment, add a splash of chemotherapy, a dose of cancer-scare, a shake of lower income, and a large scoop of thesis pressure . . . mix it all together, let it bubble over a few months, and then see what happens.

What happens?

Irritation, micro fighting, nit-picking, wit’s ends, and some poorly chosen words.

There is a new sort of pressure on our relationship that we need to push through. Life isn’t always easy; we’ve always been on student incomes, we’ve always had PhD pressure, we’ve always come from different cultures. And yet, we’ve always been happy. With Zsolt my choices are clear, my opinion is set. I’ve never doubted us as a couple, not even for a second.

Not even now.

Today, I just want to write about pressure. Pressure and fighting. It was such a relief yesterday when he and I finally spoke about this and realized we were both feeling that same tension. It was a relief to admit that we were becoming frustrated. Of course that doesn’t solve all problems, but it make me feel more united with him.

Maybe other people can relate to this? It must be normal, right? The pressure and stress and frustration has got be normal, yeah? Right?

Well at least I’m not alone.

Zsolt agreed things have been hard; it was a good moment for us both, and today was easier, lighter. We both recognized and stopped a fight before it happened. It certainly could have gone bad today, for no good reason but an open door. (I won’t go into details, but it involved ‘heating the outdoors’ as my dad would say).

Zsolt and I have been in situations of pressure before, but not often at the same time. So this is new in our relationship. We can’t always be each other’s rock.

And yet, at the same time – just knowing that he and I are in the similar boats makes a big difference. I don’t feel as alone, and hopefully neither does he. We’ll probably still fight – because hey, this is still stressful. But if at the end of the day I can slide into his arms, and he can kiss me on the head, and we can talk about our feelings . . . then I’ll guess things will be okay.

Fighting and pressure are worth mentioning, if also a little personal. But if you’re reading this blog to know what can expected during some cancer killing – I would expect some tension, and probably towards the people you love the very most. But it doesn’t have to conquer us, does it? Nope.

Because they are the people we love the very, very most.

I went half way around the world for Zsolt, and I’d go a lot further still. We might fight a little, but we love a lot more. No cancer is going to stop that.

Halloween pumpkin

Posted in Bumpboobs, Fun, Life, Love, Treatment by

Boo!

Zsolt and I have decided to celebrate Halloween. I know that back home ‘deciding’ to celebrate Halloween is as inevitable as deciding to rake the lawn, but here in England it is 100% optional.


It’s been years since I’ve dressed up for a party, and since we’re not going to a party (too many potential germs!) – it may be several more. But there are other ways to get into the Halloween spirit. First and foremost: carve a pumpkin.

Today after work we dropped into the green grocer’s on Portswood and selected a pumpkin. My experience vetoed Zsolt’s desire for a tiny pumpkin because – frankly – it’s really hard to carve a face onto a tiny surface.  Now our pumpkin (about 1 foot tall, and somewhat narrow) is sitting by the door waiting for Sunday. Though by Canadian standards this is a small pumpkin. Back home we would go to the farm where there’d be a moutain of pumpkins – massive pumpkins, big as a man’s torso. We’d buy a few, because why not? But our English pumpkin is perfect for our English apartment.  Plus, it’s Zsolt’s first time; don’t want to overwhelm the man.

Tomorrow is blood. Friday is chemo. Saturday is rest. Sunday is pumpkin. It’ll be all the activity I can handle, made easier by Zsolt deseeding and carving while I sit by and nod, occasionally napping. After we carve the pumpkin (once it’s dark and spooky outside) we’ll watch a Halloween film. Trouble here is that I have zero tolerance for scary. So, as to what Halloween film we’ll watch I’m not sure. Maybe the Rocky Horror Picture show? Although it looks several kinds of crazy. Is there a Halloween film that leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy (instead of jumpy and paranoid)?

Or we could watch Love Actually again, for the thousandth time. 🙂

Anyhow, it’ll be fun. Why not have a bit of fun?

Too early for Christmas?

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Finding Home, Life, Love, Treatment by

I’m starting to think about Christmas. And no, I do not mean Christmas in Canada.

Every year Zsolt and I celebrate Christmas together, but in actual fact – only one of those celebrations has actually been on the 25th of December. Long distance means long distance families, long distance celebrations, long distance flights and, ultimately, high priced tickets. It’d be awesome (if not also exhausting) to celebrate Christmas in Canada, then hop on a plane and continue celebrations in Hungary. Awesome, but totally ridiculous. So, until that Star Trek transportation option becomes available, we generally spend the holiday apart.

But not quite. We have our own celebrate before separating, and it’s an event that I love. The month of December starts with the revival of old favourites on the speaker: Santa baby, White Christmas, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, Silent night, Jingle bells, Baby it’s cold outside, and so on.

Next comes out the box stored above our dresser marked ‘x-mas decorations’. We have years old tinsel, paper snowflakes, greeting cards, lights, and a bent up Woolworths tree that cost £2 and stands at about 75 cm tall. The box also contains ornaments in the shape of stars, wooly sheep, pickles, beets, angles, birds, fish, and those tiny bells you can pull off Lindor chocolate figures. Whenever Zsolt and I travel to a new country(or any  place we like) we buy an ornament. So, nothing matches but everything has a meaning or memory attached.

And following the decorations I turn my mind to baking. Not sure how it’ll work this year, but I traditionally like to prepare for the celebrations with cookies.  My grandmother, Lulu, makes the most wonderful gingerbread cookies, and while my cookies pale in comparison – I still give it a try. Back when I must have been three or four years old my family would go to Lulu’s for Christmas, and I would watch the baking gingerbread men inside her oven. Then, on Christmas eve after réveillon, we’d put out a plate for Santa Claus with some milk on the side.

I bet Santa thought they were the best cookies on the block, or even in the whole of Montreal. Or the world, for that matter. I did too.

And so I bake cookies every year to celebrate with Zsolt. Running up to the occasion we might go to the Christmas Market in town, or Winchester if time (and energy) allows. And then we start watching the movies –White Christmas, Nightmare Before Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Love actually. Any suggestions for a new film?

“Don’t get too Christmassy yet,” says Zsolt just now. “It’s only October. That’s more than two months.”

Pshhh. I’m waving away that idea. Heck! They don’t even celebrate Halloween in England. There’s nothing blocking my view of the upcoming festive season. Okay, okay! Clearly I’m getting ahead of myself. But what else is there to do? This year I only have a couple productive days per week – without planning ahead, where will I find the energy to make and do and prepare?

Well, anyhow. Chemo went well yesterday. Apart from the drowsy drug they fed me at the start, it was tolerable. I lay in the chair with my toque on and waited to leave, and once home things  improved. Second treatment no nausea. 🙂  Now it’s time to rest, which explains my drifting mind.

The final bit of Christmas with Zsolt is when we make a large meal and share presents and dance to our favourite music. So this year it might be Indian take away instead of chicken with stuffing. That’s okay. Zsolt will be there. I will be there. We’ll still dance.

It’s all two months away, but time is flying. It’s flying. I has to fly. Afterwards – after all this – it’s welcomed to slow again. Crawl if it wants. Time can turn into treacle for all I care.

Right now is good. I’m not sick, Zsolt isn’t sick, and we’re enjoying the sun through our widow. Now is good. But time is still flying, as it must, at least until this is all over with.

At which point, I demand a vacation.