Loving the unforgettable

Posted in Canada, Finding Home, Fun, Life, Love by

It’s cloudy outside and the rain is cold, but I’m here sitting in our living room as Nat King Cole sings his classic Unforgettable in the background on the record player. It’s smooth, slow and romantic.  Today is a day that’s perfectly lovely.

Saturday often translates into cleaning. Cleaning day. Except that this morning my entire family (mom, dad, Zsolt and I) were positively knackered. Maybe it’s the weather. Well, actually, more likely it was all that dancing Zsolt and I did last night while attending a friend’s stag & doe party.

So we cut back this morning to focus solely on the living and dining rooms. They were covered with things from my grandmother’s apartment, which had been sitting around for weeks. Amongst the items were her record collection and record player.

There’s all sorts of ways you can know a person; going through their music is a particularly rich experience.

Zsolt wired everything up (it’d been disassembled during the move) and put a record on the player. The sound of Hawaii flooded into our living room with its hypnotizing sounds coupled with visions of women in bright coloured leis, gently moving their arms like the waves. I bet Lulu and Benoit used to play this music during their midnight parties.

We began to clean. Packing dishes, moving spice racks, looking at tea pots and serving trays. And as we cleaned, we kept on listening. Hawaiian songs were followed by a Starlight Concert and its incredibly beautiful compositions of Hungarian Rhapsody, Czardas, and something familiar from a Midsummer Night’s Dream.  Then I pulled out some Bing Crosby and was reminded of A White Christmas during this wet spring day.

And all the while, I was just so happy. So glad. Here we are with my family, enjoying each other’s company and doing trivial little things that are coupled with such lovely memories and emotions. Happy, healthy and cancer-free.

It’s for days like this I moved back to Canada.

Good times, hard times, stressful times, out-of-work times, simple times, lovely dancing times . . . all part of the journey, I suppose. And today is a good time. So I’ve got to be thankful for that.  And for Nat King Cole and his beautiful voice. And for the memories and impressions that come through music. For memories of Lulu. For my family. For good friends. For Zsolt. I guess, for a whole lotta stuff in general.

The fertility story unfolds

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Fertility by

Yesterday afternoon was our appointment with the fertility doctor. I’ve already had the scans and blood tests, so this meeting was to review the results. Now just about a year ago, I received my AMH results by phone and the news was essentially devastating – so driving to this appointment yesterday, my nerves were on high alert.

All these scenarios were running through my mind as I moved light to light to light across Ottawa.  Zsolt all the while was assuring me everything was fine, and I should calm down. I told him, “I know everything is fine,” but that nevertheless I couldn’t calm down.

Your mind can say one thing, but your body may say another. The anxiety felt like a thinkness inside me.

We drive up, we park, we go in. . . we’re directed to a side waiting room and it gives flashbacks of the Southampton Princess Anne Hospital where all the baby-related cases are ushered to these tiny waiting rooms where people generally sit for an hour flipping through year-old magazines of Elle, Seventeen and Cosmo. Oh yeah, that’s also where they put the ladies who have cancer, right before breaking the news. So these stupid memories are clearly doing little for my composure.

However, Zsolt starts talking to me about his family and shopping for televisions, and in listening to his description of this debate between 3D television or 46 inch screens, somehow I’m calmed down. That’s husband-power right there.

The doctor calls us in, we go in. Her office is bright and comfortable. She has a computer that I’d love to own (those big screens on the desk).

And she basically dives in. It’s not so bad.  While my AMH test was abysmally low – other tests give reason to hope. My progesterone is tickity-boo;  my follicle count is low, but a high type of low;  some hormone is a bit higher than it should be (the hormone that tells the eggs to release, which causes ovulation), however not too high . . .

Essentially, yeah, my fertility has taken a hit. My eggs are low. I’m not where the average 30 year old woman would be in terms of baby-making goodies.

However, it’s not bad.

She says, “you’re nowhere near menopause.” And that is totally awesome, because I’ve had enough of hot flashes and anxiety attacks for a while.

But she cannot say how my fertility will be in a year, or two years, or five years . . . which is why I’m thinking of trying to extract some eggs sooner, and then actually have a baby later. However we’ll see. Before you’re allowed to do anything, they need to get permission from your oncologist – which kinda frustrates me simply because I hate people telling me what to do. Suggesting what to do is fine. But telling me? No. No. No. However, Dr Canada is excellent and understanding. If I keep an open mind to his suggestions, I’m sure he’ll keep an open mind to mine as well.

And that’s my baby story. Not too much to say. Zsolt is ship-shape. My uterus is looking lovely. And apart from all of this, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Hmm, that’s a concept that never seems to lose relevance. Wait and See. See and Wait. Wait See.

End of story.

Lint in your inbox

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Fertility by

Just back from the Fertility Clinic . . . I felt soooo nervous driving to the appointment, numb inside and near panicked in my mind (so maybe I shouldn’t have been driving). Post coming soon, like tomorrow soon, about the results. And then there’s that question: what the heck comes next? But when does that question NOT sit upon our shoulders?

Okay – this isn’t really a post, it’s just an update. It’s a faux-post and I apolgize to email subscribers for this piece of lint in your inbox. 

More to come soon. Promise and cross my heart.