Tamoxifen, MRI, and Fertility FUN

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Fertility, Life by

Okay, here we go. It’s June, baby. And I mean baby.

This morning I spoke with a young lady who works in the local imaging clinic. She was booking me in for a MRI this upcoming Tuesday morning. All I could think of as we talked over my ‘pre-screening’ on the phone was: “I hope I don’t cry again. Oh, and I hope I don’t pass out. Annnd I hope I don’t throw up. AND there better not be cancer.”  Not crying would be a glorious first.

June is huge

(The other stuff all happened the very first time I had an MRI. The situation was simply too overwhelming, but no wonder given the circumstances of diagnosis.)

But it’s a wonderful thing that I’m even having an MRI. The fact is, a woman in my situation – without any family history or any faulty BRCA genes – isn’t generally welcomed to MRI breast screening. But Dr Canada sent in a request, and apparently the requisition went through. It might be because I told them I was kaput with the tamoxifen.

As I said before, it’s June, baby.

What has been an emotional month for the past couple years now has an additional mark of importance. I’m not just getting screened this month, I’m stopping my tamoxifen. I’ve now been on Tamoxifen for 2 years and five months. So, basically 2.5 years. The oncologists recommend 5 years, and that might even be going up to 10 years with some new study recently released.

But I’m not waiting 10 years to try and have a baby. You can just forget that.

It’s so funny. I was saying to my husband, Zsolt, the other day that there are times in my life when I don’t want to be stopped. You know? Like when I want something so much, so badly, and feel that it is so right that it takes on a certain sort of power. I really only ever regret the moments where I didn’t follow my gut. For choices this big, this important – I need to go with what resonates through my being. And it’s saying TRY, DAMN IT, TRY.

I WANT to do this with every single part of my being, and therefore, we are going to do it. We are going to go for a baby.

My oncologist, as I’ve said before, is of two minds in the matter. In one aspect he thinks I should stay on the Tamoxifen. But on the other side of things, he reckons young women actually benefit from getting pregnant in terms of protection from cancer. He is in two minds. I am in one mind. My single mindedness helps this decision feel a little less scary.

The Tamoxifen stops as of June 15th. We then wait three months. And then, we try. That’s all I can do. Try. And I guess give up all dairy products and other food that encourages too much estrogen, since I will be without the Tamoxifen – it’s like the least I can do. And make sure I sweat every day since that also burns off extra estrogens.

So Monday is the MRI. June 27th is the mammogram. I’m stopping Tamoxifen on the 15th. And if the scans come back clean, then onward and upward. Today I also swallowed my nerves and called the fertility clinic for a check-up. More on that some other time.

June is a big month.

Everything will be okay.

I’ll try not to cry.

Fourth Year Anniversary :)

Posted in After treatment, Life, Love, Writing by

Today is May 29th, 2013. I’m in a coffee shop looking out toward the busy street. There are scooters and shops and buses and dogs. It’s raining, but I guess that’s okay; it means I get to wear my giant rain boots that are this gorgeous royal blue. There is only one piece missing from this scene, and that is my husband. He’s considered missing because: 1) He detests going to coffee shops and 2) He’s at an Invest Ottawa Seminar till after lunch and 3) It’s our wedding anniversary today!

Wedding Catherine And ZsoltFour years married 🙂 Oh my goodness.

Technically, I’d say we’ve been together for just about 8 years this coming July 25th, but we were married in a old church in Pakenham four years ago. The ceremony was led by a young Hungarian priest and given in both languages.  I had pink tulips, which are Zsolt’s favourite flower, and Zsolt was forced to wear a pink tie to match.

One of my favourite memories from that wedding (okay, there are many favourite memories, this one just happens to fit into my current mood) is waiting to walk down the aisle. The family had all walked down to take their seats, Zsolt was waiting at the front with his sister, my bridesmaid was just about to take off, and I was on the verge of panic behind the entrance doors, holding onto my dad’s arm. There was this little old lady floating around us and fixing my dress. And just as all this was happening, she gives me a nudge and points up at the ceiling.

High above us on the ceiling is a painting (a fresco, a mural?) and amongst the painted clouds is this big eye right in the middle. This little old lady says to me, “I’ve been coming to this church my entire life, and whenever we’d walk through the entrance, my father always had me look up at that eye. He said it was the eye of God watching over us.”

So together we looked up at the eye. At God. At the idea.

That made me feel better. And after that moment, at least in my memory, I got married to the man of my life.

Four years later, I’m here in a coffee shop and my husband is out trying to meet with other entrepreneurs for his business. Never in my life did I ever imagine I’d be a writer & social media ‘er’ professionally. Never. I didn’t dare dream those sort of things in high school or university. It was only after having had cancer that the life changed so much and somehow left me following the words: “I am a writer.”

And never in my life, in my whole entire span of knowing the man, did I imagine my husband would be starting his own business. Yeah – that’s right. When the world won’t give you space, you need to make it for yourself, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. I couldn’t be more proud. The Zsoltster is getting into patent analysis (focusing on prior art searches) with online work and consulting, helping inventors and businesses be confident of their idea before investing in their patents or prototypes. That’s why on our anniversary we’re prioritizing him going out and learning more, interacting, meeting people. It’s important. And we’ll celebrate our amazing marriage on the weekend.

Zsolt as an entrepreneur. Wow.

So is God still watching from up there on that ceiling? Four years later, have we arrived exactly where we should be? Cancer was the biggest test for both of us (and still is, frankly), but being unemployed, dealing with crazy people, and learning to stop comparing ourselves to others who have followed a completely different path has been hard too. (And we are still learning how to do that last bit.)

It’s so funny. I always said that it was heartbreaking to live between two families and be so far away from both of them. Every time at the airport when we say goodbye to Zsolt’s parents and his dad basically RUNS for the airport exit so we don’t see him crying – heartbreaking!

But wouldn’t it be something if we found a way to work from anywhere? This might be an answer.

We were in this little Italian mountain village not long ago, and the wifi was excellent. I said to Zsolt: “This is where we should come for a month and live. Just because we can.”

And you know what else is funny? Zsolt used to say when he was looking for work (the first time we arrived in Canada, which feels like ages ago now), “I wish someone would pay me just to search the internet!” (because he’s really good at database searching) – and now he’s starting a business that basically involves in-depth database searches and analysis.

Life is WEIRD.

Life is challenging.

Life keeps surprising me.

Thank GOD for certainties. I knew four years ago that without a doubt I wanted to marry Zsolt. I know for certain that he and I will be together for our lives. And you know what, I knew eight years ago when I first met him that this was the man for me, and nothing was going to stand in my way. Certainties are a blessing, and most of mine reside in the fact that 1) I love my husband and 2) I love writing.

And that is why, on my four year anniversary, I’m in here in this coffee shop writing a post to you. Bumpyboobs has been with me for three years. And through this blog we’ve been growing up and testing ourselves in ways that school never prepared us for. I am grateful for this space and the people who are kind enough to read it. Thank you for being part of this crazy, challenging, and weird adventure through life.

Cheers to finding your voice and vocation, and cheers to being flexible. Cheers to giving support. Cheers to finding friends. Cheers to getting older. Cheers to everything that makes this world so sweet (including the cup of tea beside me that has now gone cold.)

And most of all, cheers to my husband – who I love from a place that can’t exactly be described, except to say it’s deeply rooted. Happy anniversary, Babe. I love you.

~Catherine

P.S. My husband is now on twitter. If you can, please do follow him at @easypatent. Also, check out his website at www.easy-patent.com, and if you know of anyone needing some research and analysis (and may be considering a patent) on their great inventive ideas, send them our way 🙂

P.P.S. Oh my goodness, for the first time in 3 years, I’m not associating my wedding anniversary with discovering cancer. I mean – FRACK – that did happen, and now I’ve thought about it. But I didn’t really think about that connection for most of this post. Yay for progress. (And for a good scan at the end of JUNE)

A Game of Association

Posted in Blogging and Other Fun, Fun, Life, Novels and Stories, Writing by

So what’s new? What’s what? What’s up?

Life has been comprised of little events over these past couple weeks. Little things and little events. The other night before falling asleep I was laying in bed with my husband, Zsolt, and I think we were right on the cusp of dreamland. Something happened, and I cannot remember what it was. Maybe we turned over at the same time, or sighed at the same time, or patted one another’s back or belly. All I can remember is thinking, ‘I have to write about this, it would make a lovely post.’

🙂

So lovely, and apparently, so forgettable. Taken away by sleep.

Little things have been happening. There was a wasp nest on the back porch; Zsolt an I constructed a plan to knock the thing down with an Ikea curtain rod. We were going to wait until dusk, when the bees were also sleepy, then he was going to poke the nest, drops the curtain rod, and run into the apartment (not a far run, it’s about 1 foot to the screen door). To be honest, I was looking forward to the adventure, but then the handyman who is working on the apartment came by and did it before we could tackle the situation. That’s probably for the best, but I feel just a little like the story has been stolen away.  So again, a lost opportunity for narrative fun.

But speaking of the back porch, since you’ve now read to the fifth paragraph in this blog post, I’ve got myself a little herb garden growing out there. Two basil plants, two mint plants, one lavender plant, one Thai basil plant, one Italian parsley and one clump of chives cut from the garden at my parent’s house. They are all planted in a box (which is very important for non-dying reasons you’ll read below) that I’ve arranged, and received daylight on and off as the sun arches across the sky.

So the other day, speaking of gardening, we received a letter in the mail from the city of Ottawa. This letter advised us not to grow carrots, or really anything edible in the ground. Why? Because the land on which we are now living used to be a garbage dump and the food could poison us! And down the street, on this very same road, there is a house that was put up for sale at an ambitious price tag of $400,000. Can you imagine anyone paying $400,000 to live on an old garbage dump where you can’t even grow carrots? But the house, much like my apartment, is beautiful.

In continuation of my publishing quest, I attended an event put on by the local Ottawa Romance Writers’ Association. These ladies know their stuff. The most interesting aspect of the talk revolved around self-publishing. It seems to me that with all the stuff I’ve already written, why the heck not find it some professionally designed covers and list them on Amazon as ebooks? They’ll be sitting there doing the exact same thing they are doing now on my hard drive . . . and I actually really like the stories. My mom always says I ought to write my stories like I write my blog, which is an opinion that makes sense – though nevertheless I do love my third person woman-in-flux narratives. : )

Last night I was at a good friend’s house for dinner. We ate BBQ beer-can chicken and spicy pork with grilled veggies (and wine, but I don’t really drink wine). It was entirely delicious. Anyhow, as the evening went on and no one left the table – which Zsolt calls, “preserving the harmony of the table” – the conversation somehow rolled around to water, or more specifically ponds and lakes.

Did you know that people (myself included) are entirely weird about water? Now you’d think that ducks, and fish, and otters, and turtles would be the ones who are freaked out by bodies of water – because statistically I think they have a wayyyyyy higher chance of being eaten while swimming than humans. But nevertheless, as we (the dinner party) chatted about water, it was soon revealed that we all have strange hydrophobic thought patterns.

I blame my father. That’s you, Tony. When I was a kid, he had me watch the movie JAWS because it was apparently the best movie of all time and everyone – even children – should check it out. : ) To this day, I have to fight back the image of a shark being in the pool with me every time I go swimming. And then extend that to lakes and oceans. It hasn’t stopped me from swimming in the Mediterranean, and canoeing in the lake, and doing laps in a pool . . . but it’s there in my mind nevertheless, and it makes me uncomfortable.

Another fellow said that he associates lady ghosts hanging above the water. And then another fellow said he always wonders how many dead bodies are in cement boots at the bottom. Eugh!

Zsolt, as usual, was not weird. He doesn’t have any qualms with water, lakes, oceans or ponds.

And since I’m now at the end of this post, several paragraphs later, I will ask you: does water freak you out? And if so, what exactly about water freaks you out? I’m guessing at least a few people have stories to share. It cannot be a coincidence that three out of four people at that dinner table have weird associations.

What’s your weird association?

P.S.

OH! Another bizarre association concept. One fellow asked the table, what do you think about when I say “best of both worlds?” Here are the answers:

The Star Trek Episode where Picard becomes Borg

Being a King and eating loads of cake

Having the best from a variety of options

Pulling from Europe and the United States

Fascinating or FASCINATING? What do you think of with the expression?