Tag Archives: chemotherapy

Snow day!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Life, Treatment by

Last night it snowed in Southampton, and today it’s still on the ground. This winter miracle has stacked up over fifteen centimetres and warranted a university closure just as I was due in to work. As normal, southern England is shut down by a mild snow storm . . .

Yay!!

It’s so beautiful outside, the trees are coated in white and cold fluff. If I had the energy (and the equipment) I’d cross country ski through the common and have a hot chocolate at the Cowherds. I’d throw snowballs at my husband and complain when he returned fire. I’d boil maple syrup then spread it over snow.

Reality: I took a bus to the hospital. Wohoo!

But even if I didn’t do all those lovely winteresque activities, this change in scenery is good for the soul. White, fresh and beautiful, covering all the grey;  I really like snow.

Happy snow day, everyone.

Give me FIVE!

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Food, Treatment by

I’m now have eleven chemotherapy treatments done, which means FIVE treatments left, and THREE until I go to Canada.

My parents are rolling the ball in Canada, working things out on my behalf. We have to decide upon critical issues like when to put up the Christmas tree, who will decorate, and how many presents can fit into one stocking?

Essential matters.

Plus the OHIP (Ontario health care), scheduling, patient info and transferring of files – all that too.

But the ball is rolling.

Breaking news: my Swedish roots are abandoning me, instead I’m turning into a Monk. Zsolt was kind enough yesterday to point out that I have a ‘bald’ spot across the top of my head, with dark hair growing all around. MONK (also MANLY). Should I be embarrassed by this development? Well, maybe if the hair grows out an inch or so and the top is still shiny. . . then I’ll wear a hat. Meanwhile I’m simply glad to see it growing.

Breaking news part two: My weight is back to pre-chemotherapy measurements. Ever since Paclitaxel started I’ve been slowly putting the pounds back onto my shrunken frame. My rib cage is less pronounced, and I feel a tad more womanly. Meanwhile, the other side of my head is saying, “Alright lady, that’s enough with the weight gaining, time to slow down.”

But Christmas is coming, which means good food –plenty of good food. So whatever. Now is not the time to worry over weight (though that doesn’t mean I won’t worry, because it’s compulsive – BUT I know I’m being an idiot). Beside, who can say no to gingerbread cookies, and stuffing, and turkey, and mashed potatoes, and cheesecake, and baked filo wraps, and hot chocolate, and this and that, and all the goodies I’ll soon be eating.

Right. Twelve down (as of tomorrow), and four left.

This is progress.

PS. Today is my Name Day. Happy Name Day to all Catherines everywhere!

PPS. My big toes are starting to have a slight tingle. I’m not too happy about this, but it is still quite slight.

December fourteenth

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

Alright! Good morning and good news: I am going to Canada!


Wooohooo! Happy dancing!

When I first mentioned the idea to Doctor Blonde at C3, she said to me: “Theoretically it’s possible, but you might have to work through red tape.”

Which is why it’s best to go to the top. When asking the lead oncologist he said, “I can’t see why that’d be a problem. I’ll send off a letter.”

Two weeks after that meeting I still didn’t have any news. First my file was lost (may still be lost) and then the doctor’s secretary kept telling me she ‘had the tape’ but hadn’t transcribed it. For a while I was stressing over how LONG everything takes. But, in a second meeting with the lead oncologist – let’s call him Dr Lead, because ‘lead oncologist’ is time consuming – he told me he’d sent an email, not a letter, and it should have been with the doctor in Canada two weeks ago.

Two weeks with no response? Fishy . . .

My mom sent her own email, to which the doctor in Canada, Dr Canada, responded with a phone call to the house. He told her that he hadn’t heard from England.

Ah! Okay. Now at this point I wonder – who was right – Dr Blond or Dr Lead? (Sometimes I wish I could use their real names, because these nick names are just silly!) Was this communication mix up ‘red tape’ or simply a misfired email? In either case, I’d say there’s been a handful of confusion . . . and yet, things are working.

I wrote an email to my UK oncologist, Dr Lead, asking him to please resend his original email to the address I provided again (hopefully correct this time). Wow, email is awesome. In other circumstances I would have waited till clinic or gone through his less than friendly secretary. But with a quick Google search of his name: BAM! Email acquired.

Monday morning he resent the introductory letter to Dr Canada and CCed me and my mother. The oncologist in Canada wrote back yesterday (Tuesday), saying he’s happy to have me and will start things rolling.

Not only are plans unfolding well, but now I’m in touch with an apparently excellent oncologist in Canada who, according to Rate-your-doctor, is kind and supportive. Furthermore, back when I started chemo it was my goal to fly home on the 14th of December. Now, even if I do have another setback, that goal will be met. All of this feels really good.

Next up, I’ll arrange things with Air Canada. Apparently they can help me through the airport, which is great because I have a feeling December 14th will be an exhausting day. Mind you, I’ve never been pushed in a wheelchair before; it’s another physical admission of illness, but geez – thinking about those long walks, I guess there’s little choice.

Less than three weeks and I’ll be with my family again. True it’s only for a visit, but it means the world to me nevertheless.   🙂 Isn’t good news fun?