Category Archives: Writing

Early morning ‘To Do’s

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Canada, Finding Home, Life, Love, Writing by

This morning is waking me up with a mental ‘to do’ list knocking at the door. It first started knocking around 5.30am, but I sent it away through various mental images of babies being put to bed, boats adrift in the water, river currents taking away my thoughts (plus the addition of a shirt over my eyes to block any/all light) and it must have worked because eventually I fell asleep. However, it didn’t work for sooo long, or maybe the t-shirt fell off my face, because here I am typing away at 7.30 am and hoping that the clackity clack  of this keyboard doesn’t wake up Zsolt.

TO DO: Firstly, call the various utility companies and request a cancellation of their services. Unless I want to pay for another month of service, this needs to be done today.

TO DO: Zsolt has to drop by the printers to arrange a hard-binding of his thesis. It’s an expensive errand (most are these days) but the results are forever. For generations to come, his work will sit somewhere in the University of Southampton’s archive of past graduates, and maybe one day – when either he or I become hyper-famous, they’ll remove the book from its shelf and display it in the small gallery tucked toward the back of the library. “And here we have the writing of Zsolt, Hungarian scientist extrodinaire”. Well, regardless of whether that happens, the thesis, hard-bound and pressed with gold leaf lettering, will take a place of honour on our bookshelf.

TO DO: Little Peugeot needs to be sold. This is a must. Today we’ll be taking it around to the used car dealerships to see what type of prices they quote (so we have a sense of its value, but also, if we don’t find a buyer before leaving we’ll get the best of the worst prices, because used car dealers probably wouldn’t offer the ‘actual’ value of a car, considering they need to sell it later and make money from the exchange). Poor little Peugeout, she’s going to be poked and prodded.

TO DO: Sell the blooming mattress. Unfortunately despite being quite comfortable and good quality it has two strikes against its favour: strike one – it’s used, even if only for a year, it’s nevertheless used. Strike two – it’s a king size, which apparently doesn’t jive in this chocolate box land of petite and practical housing.

TO DO: Clean this apartment! Life imitates schedule. I’m busy : my apartment goes bizerk. For the past month things have been quite smoothy running in terms of housekeeping, but as soon as I began my marathon of goodbyes (aka, a great excuse to go out everynight and many mornings), the tidiness of this place has suffered. IF time allows, I’ll pop in a DVD and clean this entire mess up. When cleaning, always have a source of entertainment – whether it be music or a show in the background. For me, who hates cleaning in general (it’s not in my DNA, just ask my father), entertainment is essential.

TO DO: Say more goodbyes, heart breaking stuff. Yesterday I left a friend who I’ve known since my MA days at the Uni – she’s one of those inspiring women I was raving about the other day, and it was quite crap to say goodbye. And today there will be more of the ‘goodbye’ing, no crying, as work begins to wind to a halt. Friday is my last day.

TO DO: Pack. Ugh. Not worth discussing at this point.

TO DO: Write! Which clearly I’ve started on, and will need to continue once a bit of sky breaks in my day of busy activities. Yesterday I had some time alone in the flat, which is a rarity, and was able to use the main computer to begin my article-writing adventure. So far, so good.

Okay, time to get a move on – and maybe draw a picture. 😉

Thank you for your company, and for reading my to-do list. Now that I’ve blurted the whole thing out, it feels far more manageable. Writing as therapy always does the trick. And so, onto the dishes.

Cue the fireworks, please

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Writing by

Oh boy! Good things are cooking this week. Zsolt has finished his corrections, and he’s volunteered to pack up the entire household (“Don’t worry, Catherine, I’ll pack everything” – he’s almost like Superman); plus one of my very best friends will be visiting in Hungary (with the specific request to party at a European nightclub, however I have to say that in general European clubs share a striking resemblance to North American clubs: darkness, sticky dance floor, cheesy but fun music, overpriced drinks . . . actually, there is a difference, the men dance, and they dance well). And – oh boy, here it comes – and I’ve been asked to write an article for an awesome magazine! WOOOOOOHOOOOO!

WHOOOOOOHOOOO! Whoot-Whoot! Yes! Distribute the exclamatives, and high fives all around. If you’re at the screen reading this post, please – give someone a high five on my behalf.

It’s really exciting news. I’ll be writing a piece around my experience with Facing Cancer Together, which is a site for women/carers/family to meet and ask questions, find support, connect with others. When dealing with a cancer diagnosis so much STUFF begins to spin (e.g. will my work keep me, what’s treatment like, how can I cope?) so having a common area to ask questions and share stories is basically essential for coping.  Plus, when you do reach a high moment (e.g. successful surgery, treatment completion, feeling good about life) there are others who want to celebrate that success with you – everyone ‘gets’ it. I’m quite proud to blog for their site.

Anyhow – it’s exciting. And I’m not blurting this out for bragging purposes (though a few more WoHoos might push the ‘obnoxious’ button soon) but keeping good news hidden is somewhat similar (though less extreme) as keeping bad news hidden. The act of hiding creates a strange balloon-like pressure inside my chest; it’s like my cheeks are going to puff out with me holding my tongue when all I want to do is laugh and smile.  Anyhow, it’s a great opportunity and positive step forward.

Further good news: my parade of social engagements continues. Yesterday it was dinner at a quality Polish restaurant in Southampton (Stacja PL Restaurant) with mulled beer for Zsolt, and a stewed sauerkraut & sausage dish for me. Yum. This morning it is Tragos (surprise!) for breakfast with friends, and so on, and so forth right through to next week, when everything stops and the packing begins.

 This assignment is exactly the boost I need to distract from all this change, and it’s exactly the sort of challenge I love. What’s better than that?

What about you? Any good news to share? Don’t keep it bottled up  – it’s okay to have a shining moment. (Took me a long time to realize that, my mom often said: Catherine, you hide yourself so others don’t feel bad – well, hopefully she approves this post, because there’s no hiding here! – and no one feel bad either, I hope.)

* I’m late for Tragos! No time to grammar and spell check (probably shouldn’t post in that case, but screw it! I’m posting.)

Women role models rock

Posted in Life, Writing by

Recently I read an article about role models for women that essentially had my blood boiling. While the author made some occasionally interesting points (e.g. women trying to ‘feed the hungry without knowing the causes of poverty), overall I felt like the entire premise was ridiculous. It made me wonder: is this written just to stir the pot? Is this paper trying for a reaction? Does it take brash statements to get people to read an article? Maybe, because I read half the article on break, and the remainder at home after finding it on the web.

Here is the crux of the article: women are no longer great role models. Why? I don’t know. Because they get famous for doing things within their comfort zones. They do well with what they know well. And this, somehow, justifies questioning whether women today are worthy of admiration and influence.

Ugh.

Firstly, if someone is ever going to succeed, they’ll need to stretch their comfort zone eventually. Secondly, personal struggles are often personal (i.e. not for public knowledge – unlike this blog!), so who are we to judge a women’s journey as unworthy? And thirdly, what’s with the ‘famous woman’ obsession anyhow?

Every day  I have the privilege to know and work with great female role models. These ladies aren’t on magazine covers, I don’t think they’ve won awards (at least not lately), and who knows if their ‘greatness’ was forged during times of trial – who cares? I look at them now, and find inspiration. Whether it’s encouraging culture, family, gardening, art, security, adventure, light-hearts, passion, calm, or good humour  – their lives inspire me. And not only my colleagues at work! What about my mother who works so hard and believe so vehemently in her vision; who can’t admire that? Or my friend who is so good  at knowing what others need and making sure they’re comforted (a huge help during my chemo treatments)? Or my other friend who has followed an impressive career with pursuing a PhD? Or my GRANDMOTHER who at 91 has become an expert in the condition of Alzheimer’s, and has contributed hugely to the well-being of everyone involved in that unfortunate situation.  Or my aunts who  move across the country, learn new languages, go to retreats, reach out after years of disconnection, send cards to help the healing; how can I not admire them?  And – because I’d be daft to overlook  – what about the women my own age who are shaping their identities, taking risks, holding convictions, starting families – aren’t they admirable for their courage too?

AH. OKAY. Now my blood is boiling again. Because how can anyone question the presence of female role models today when they’re everywhere I turn?

The women in my life are amazing. They are amazing. And everyday (particularly with this blog, and since joining breast cancer forums, twitter, and exploring the post-diagnosis life) I meet increasingly more women who leave me inspired.

How can other people be missing this? Incredible women are a world-wide phenomenon, just as they were in the days of Emily Bronte and Helen Keller, and just as they will be in the future with spaceships and transporters and holodecks (have I just discredited my argument by referencing Star Trek? Hmm, Captain Janeway – also an incredible, albeit also fictional, woman).

Women role models are everywhere. And so are incredible men. Yes, I’ve overlooked them in my defence of women who are awesome, but must say that the men in my life have been really quite something too. Don’t even get me started on my husband, or my dad, or my brothers, or my friends, or my manager . . . let’s just leave it as a thumbs up for men.

Point: There’s a role model in many people, and hopefully you’re like me: really lucky to be surround by them.

Anyhow. There’s my two cents. The boil has been reduced to a simmer.