Bonjour Lulu!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Love, Treatment by

So I’ve been posting a lot lately – it’s a response to Lulu, who asked about my posting, or lack of posting. Well here you go Lulu! Freshly pressed, as they say here.

Sunday afternoon, between my waves of sleep and hot flashes, Zsolt and I put up the Christmas tree. And please, don’t check your calendar – yes, it’s still November. But if I do end up leaving for Canada (if, when, etc) our Samson/Brunelle family needs to have covered a certain amount of festive celebration.

The stockings are hung, the tiny tree is standing and covered with ornaments, tinsly stuff is around the doorway, and we have Christmas music playing. I love it.

After decorating the tree we snuggled down and watched The Santa Clause, which Zsolt said was the stupidest movie ever (fart jokes are never a good sign) – but still sat through because I got a kick out of it. Funny how the cheesiest films can hold a place in our heart so long as they’re connected to a memory. I remember watching The Santa Clause in my basement with Mom and Dad as the wood fire burned. Mind you, I fell asleep toward the end and Zsolt had to carry on watching (I fell asleep on Zsolt, so he was stuck there). Poor fellow : )

Today we are still in the Christmas cheer, but life hasn’t stopped. Yesterday Zsolt discovered MOULD along the skirting in the bedroom, and behind the washing machine (and around the blasted windows, though we already knew about that). No wonder my eyes itch. AHHH. No wonder. The idea was that he’d clean it all away yesterday while I went in to work (which I paid for later in the form of Zombieism) and I could avoid the mould madness. Unfortunately the spray ran out after about two shots. So! Today we try again.

I dream of a flat with no allergies, and sunshine, and heating, and a nice view. It’d take all the good elements of our past three apartments and wrap them into one perfect package. The Dream Flat – which is actually a house, since I’m dreaming. A house with a yard and big trees nearby (but not so close as to threaten the structure).

Well, if we can just get rid of the mould our current home will be quite good. Zsolt needs to start spraying.

And that, Lulu, is all that is happening over here. Not much else to say. Zsolt and I are doing well; he’s working on his thesis and I am getting rest. Only six treatments left till chemotherapy is over, and if this Ottawa Hospital thing works out, only four more treatments till I go home.

Things are coming along. : ) See you soon.

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.