Category Archives: Uncategorized

Just us two

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

And now we are alone.

This morning at 7.30 we made our way to the bus stop on Burgess Road. Once arrived, Zsolt watched for the National Express while I leaned against a fence with Mom and put my arm around her shoulders. It was clear and cool and traffic whizzed past.

Saying goodbye has never been nice. Over the past five years I’ve been saying goodbye quite often; at first it can be devastating, but eventually the idea of leaving becomes normal. I keep waiting for Star Trek to kick in and transporters to be invented that can actually transport people, not just photons. (Zsolt is correcting me, he says this is called teleportation – but I keep waiting for STAR TREK to kick in, not this crazy ‘real science’ stuff, and in Star Trek they transport everywhere, no problem . . . except maybe once when people were stuck in transport limbo and Jordie LaForge had to figure out the problem with his visor thing). It’d be a true miracle to wake up in Canada, or in Hungary, or in England; just to go there with a thought.

But enough Star Trek side track.  (All day I’ve been side tracked, trying to avoid this post.)

Saying goodbye has never been easy, despite how often in happens, but I guess we learn to walk forward and move on. Though my poor Mom, well, she’s my mom – that sting doesn’t subside easily.

No more details, just want to say it wasn’t a fun morning.

Things will now be different. Mom knew all sorts of useful tricks; her being here was an incredible help in my mastectomy recovery and chemo preparation. When I was sick she was ready with a cold towel, cleaning out the bucket, and giving me drops. When I wasn’t sick we’d spend time together, going out for tea, watching films and having fun. I’ve spent more time with her in these past six weeks than in the past four years combined. How’s that for a realization?

Things will be different but they won’t be bad. The routine is established. We’ve survived the first treatment.

Anyhow, thanks mom. You also deserve a gold star, and triple points for love. Thanks very, very much. Plus, just so you know the whole day wasn’t terrible. Zsolt and I bought croissants on the way home, and the man at our fruit stand sliced a fresh watermelon in half for us. I hope your bus ride was okay, along with waiting for the flight. I’ve heard Dad might meet you with a cup of tea in hand, so hopefully he comes through. 😉

There you are. Now it’s Zsolt and I alone for a few days to rest and regroup. Zsoltster has been busy washing the sheets for his family. I have been busy eating watermelon. We are thinking of buying a car next week, but it’s still in the air.

Just the two of us again, for a little while. Nothing wrong with that.

Five years

Posted in Bumpboobs, Life, Love, Uncategorized by

Yesterday was a good day – five years with Zsolti. We celebrated by sleeping in, trolling around Ikea, having tea at Trago and watching the original Toy Story.  Also, last weekend we went to a lovely hotel and had a lovely time doing lovely things. So that was very romantic too.

Right – married one year, together for five. I met Zsolt in a hostel in Nice, France. He was with a group of friends and I was with my little brother, Dan Man. It was ‘right place right time’ for us both. Zsolt had asked a girl to come along, but she was busily engaged with her actual boyfriend – and I had come out of a relationship.

We were just on vacation. But geez, it was good to be together – so good that Zsolt met us in Amsterdam when we headed up north after France.

Anyhow – details of the Anne Frank museum, canal tours, wandering streets and dodging bicycles skipped (although Amsterdam is a beautiful city, I can thoroughly recommend it) – I knew that he was for me. If I didn’t see this guy again, it’d be a massive mistake. So after we said goodbye for the second time I swore to take action.

And five years later we’re waking up together, married, and pretty freaking lucky.  Zsolt is all heart, all caring, all love, and the rock in my life.

He’s also a total hottie.

Post Mastectomy Recovery

Posted in Bumpboobs, Treatment, Uncategorized by

It’s funny when they advise that mastectomy recovery takes 2-4 weeks, because  my mind automatically assumes that I’ll have this beat in one week, tops.  Four weeks of recovery? Sorry, but I don’t think so; not this girl. Didn’t you hear? I’m a fighter.

Destroying breast cancer

And I am a fighter. But one week post surgery I can now see this taking a while. Yes, I am out of the hospital, and yeah, I’m not falling asleep on the floor, but my side is still tight, my wound is still numb,  my energy is still low, my arm still aches, and the bandages won’t be removed till next Monday (aka my birthday).

Like I said before, it’s not a terrible pain but it is persistent. I’m all elastics that won’t stretch, and pulling gives that ‘about to snap’ sensation.  But there is my routine, thank goodness for small miracles. My routine, and my mother, are pushing me along.

So here it is, Catherine’s Feel Good Ready Recovery Mastectomy Routine – check it out and apply as needed:

Morning.

Wake up! It’s a good start to another good day. Your alarm clock will most likely be the postman with a delivery, a result of ordering way too much from Amazon because it’s hard to leave the house for over twenty minutes, and stir crazy = online shopping.  Wrap a bathrobe over your body and answer the door. Say hello, share a smile, and sign an electric pad with your scribble.

Eat! Now is the time to bulk-up that body.  Here is breakfast, here are the vitamins, and here is the protein shake that Mom has whipped together (after many rejected trials we have settled for a mixture of powder, orange juice, and carbonated water, sometimes she makes protein powder crepes, and those are the very best).

Exercise! There is a list of exercises from the nurses that must be done three times a day. They are as follows: neck rotations, chicken wing lifts, chicken wing circles, beach ball, spider, behind the back, and up the wall. You may prefer to forget about these exercises (a reminder that moving is difficult, plus they’re totally boring to do), but persist regardless. Apply mother’s insistance if necessary.

Walk! Get out of the house, even if only for a short time. Whether we just circle the street or have a drink at Tragos, getting out and moving has been exhausting – but day by day it is becoming much easier.

Relax! Aka, come home and crash into bed. Don’t move because the arm is swelling, pulling and threatening to snap. Lay still for twenty minutes till sensations subside. Then, read a book for twenty more minutes because you can, and why not relax while work has you signed off? I’m right in the middle of Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett and hate to leave it untouched for long.

WORK! Throw bombs, do visualizations, and try right-hand/left-hand writing. What do we want? All cancer to die! Who’s gonna do it? We are! What are we aiming for? The best news ever!

Next Wednesday is my consultation, a result of med students and treatment specialists putting their heads together and discussing whether it’s worth blasting the shit out of my body over the next year. And it’s possible, because I’m young, they’ll lean towards ‘yes’. BUT I’m putting all my energy into them changing their minds, because miraculously the cancer is dying and the margins are very safe and, my goodness Catherine, it’s disappeared all together!

We aim for the best. All I can do is take things one step at a time, and either I sit here in anxious anticipation of a terrible year, or I let my mind and body start fighting. So I’m fighting: throwing bombs and punches at any fear, doubt or preconceived notion that enters my mind.  A lot of bombs have been thrown. A lot of shrapnel has gone flying.

Rinse and Repeat! Do it again, wussy! Get up and hit those targets – afternoon and evening, with a few substitutions and a gradual tapering off of activity.I get sore the longer I’m active, and the miracle of caffeine only lasts a certain amount of time. But each day stretches further than the last, and that is so encouraging.

It’s taking time. I’m not out saving the world yet, or even riding my bike. But things are getting better,  and they’ll keep getting better.

I am a fighter – I am recovering – and I’ll keep doing both for however long it takes.



P.S. HAPPY CANADA DAYYYYYYYY — WOOOOHOOOOO! CANADA!!!! I miss barbeques, fireworks, body painting, and aimless downtown wandering while draped in red and white.  However I did set myself a goal on Canada day, which was to make it to a friend’s art exhibit opening. It’s inspiring when friends succeed, and giving them support brings us all further. So on July 1st I put on my too-tight recovery bra and a dress, went with my mom, Zsolt, Ulrike and Darren, and visited Ian Kirkpatrick’s Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger solo exhibit. Ian and his wife Sara have been good friends since we met in Gower, check out his exhibit details here (being shown till September in the Michael Andrews Building at Southampton Solent University); he has a very impressive graphic design portfolio. Actually, Sara also has an impressive archaeology blog. Look into the past here.

Anyhow, thirty minutes there and I was a cooked goose – couldn’t stand a moment longer with my arm throbbing at my side (I miss my lymph nodes). Zsolt touched my back during the opening speech and was surprised to feel sweat – yeah, I was sweating; being there was an effort, but a worthwhile one. After taking a tour of the work and chatting with the artist, we all piled into the car and took off back home where I popped two pain killers and went directly to bed. But it was worth it; my goal to visit the exhibit was achieved. So that was my Canada day, and it felt pretty good.