Category Archives: Life

Chemotherapy crazy

Posted in Bumpboobs, Canada, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Yesterday was my third annual visit to the Christmas Art, Craft and Gift Fayre; I suppose it’s something I would normally have skipped (due to chemo) but a friend was showing work, and I really wanted to pick up a few of her matchbox masterpieces.


Ulrike and I arrived early to avoid the crowds; we hovered table to table, chatted up vendors, sampled truffles with oil,  and shopped – I bought three matchbox ladies from Barbro, who also had a stall showcasing her beautiful hand-woven, hand-painted cardboard baskets.

So that was a lovey morning, but by the time Ulrike and I had gone full circle and decided on a cup of tea, my legs felt like tree trunks and my head slightly fuzzy.

But sometimes a girl needs to socialize.

Mind you, I go crazy strange in the midst of exhaustion. Just this evening I was freaking out over nothing and Zsolt had to calm me down. It’s 100% a result of ‘too much activity’, which is tricky to manage during chemotherapy. This drug gives me the allusion of health . . . like, hey, I feel fine this morning so why don’t I do this, and this, and this, and this . . . except that come mid-afternoon I’m flat on my ass from a spinning head and can’t think straight.

It’s tricky, tricky stuff.

But nevertheless it was a lovely Sunday.

Another friend of mine who once had breast cancer advised that chemotherapy becomes more draining as time passes. She was concerned that flying to Canada would be too much. She’s probably right – I admit there is high risk of ‘Crazy Catherine, the Exhausted’ making a special appearance once home in Kanata.

So long as she doesn’t appear before, like when I’m talking to customs and trying to explain that hello/bonjour I’m Canadian, but I live in England, and yes I work there too, and no I don’t have anything to claim, and no I didn’t stop at duty free, and yes I’m home for a visit, and PLEASE stop asking questions because my parents are on the other side of that barrier and I’m dying to see them. At which point Crazy Catherine would take over and dive past the checkpoint, run across the luggage carousel, jump the security dogs, rip off her toque mid hot flash (revealing a suspiciously bald head) and probably end up tackled to the ground by that last fellow who checks your landing card and decides whether or not to search your bags.

Whew – sounds like an adventure I don’t want to have.

Therefore, the crazy will be saved for later.

Give me FIVE!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Food, Treatment by

I’m now have eleven chemotherapy treatments done, which means FIVE treatments left, and THREE until I go to Canada.

My parents are rolling the ball in Canada, working things out on my behalf. We have to decide upon critical issues like when to put up the Christmas tree, who will decorate, and how many presents can fit into one stocking?

Essential matters.

Plus the OHIP (Ontario health care), scheduling, patient info and transferring of files – all that too.

But the ball is rolling.

Breaking news: my Swedish roots are abandoning me, instead I’m turning into a Monk. Zsolt was kind enough yesterday to point out that I have a ‘bald’ spot across the top of my head, with dark hair growing all around. MONK (also MANLY). Should I be embarrassed by this development? Well, maybe if the hair grows out an inch or so and the top is still shiny. . . then I’ll wear a hat. Meanwhile I’m simply glad to see it growing.

Breaking news part two: My weight is back to pre-chemotherapy measurements. Ever since Paclitaxel started I’ve been slowly putting the pounds back onto my shrunken frame. My rib cage is less pronounced, and I feel a tad more womanly. Meanwhile, the other side of my head is saying, “Alright lady, that’s enough with the weight gaining, time to slow down.”

But Christmas is coming, which means good food –plenty of good food. So whatever. Now is not the time to worry over weight (though that doesn’t mean I won’t worry, because it’s compulsive – BUT I know I’m being an idiot). Beside, who can say no to gingerbread cookies, and stuffing, and turkey, and mashed potatoes, and cheesecake, and baked filo wraps, and hot chocolate, and this and that, and all the goodies I’ll soon be eating.

Right. Twelve down (as of tomorrow), and four left.

This is progress.

PS. Today is my Name Day. Happy Name Day to all Catherines everywhere!

PPS. My big toes are starting to have a slight tingle. I’m not too happy about this, but it is still quite slight.

December fourteenth

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

Alright! Good morning and good news: I am going to Canada!


Wooohooo! Happy dancing!

When I first mentioned the idea to Doctor Blonde at C3, she said to me: “Theoretically it’s possible, but you might have to work through red tape.”

Which is why it’s best to go to the top. When asking the lead oncologist he said, “I can’t see why that’d be a problem. I’ll send off a letter.”

Two weeks after that meeting I still didn’t have any news. First my file was lost (may still be lost) and then the doctor’s secretary kept telling me she ‘had the tape’ but hadn’t transcribed it. For a while I was stressing over how LONG everything takes. But, in a second meeting with the lead oncologist – let’s call him Dr Lead, because ‘lead oncologist’ is time consuming – he told me he’d sent an email, not a letter, and it should have been with the doctor in Canada two weeks ago.

Two weeks with no response? Fishy . . .

My mom sent her own email, to which the doctor in Canada, Dr Canada, responded with a phone call to the house. He told her that he hadn’t heard from England.

Ah! Okay. Now at this point I wonder – who was right – Dr Blond or Dr Lead? (Sometimes I wish I could use their real names, because these nick names are just silly!) Was this communication mix up ‘red tape’ or simply a misfired email? In either case, I’d say there’s been a handful of confusion . . . and yet, things are working.

I wrote an email to my UK oncologist, Dr Lead, asking him to please resend his original email to the address I provided again (hopefully correct this time). Wow, email is awesome. In other circumstances I would have waited till clinic or gone through his less than friendly secretary. But with a quick Google search of his name: BAM! Email acquired.

Monday morning he resent the introductory letter to Dr Canada and CCed me and my mother. The oncologist in Canada wrote back yesterday (Tuesday), saying he’s happy to have me and will start things rolling.

Not only are plans unfolding well, but now I’m in touch with an apparently excellent oncologist in Canada who, according to Rate-your-doctor, is kind and supportive. Furthermore, back when I started chemo it was my goal to fly home on the 14th of December. Now, even if I do have another setback, that goal will be met. All of this feels really good.

Next up, I’ll arrange things with Air Canada. Apparently they can help me through the airport, which is great because I have a feeling December 14th will be an exhausting day. Mind you, I’ve never been pushed in a wheelchair before; it’s another physical admission of illness, but geez – thinking about those long walks, I guess there’s little choice.

Less than three weeks and I’ll be with my family again. True it’s only for a visit, but it means the world to me nevertheless.   🙂 Isn’t good news fun?