Three nice things

Two really nice things happened to me this past week. Firstly I was given a pint of daffodils at work from a colleague, which are now sitting in my kitchen window (I was walking home from work on the day these were given and stopped into the grocery to pick up some bits – essentially, I was sloshing around with a pint glass filled with water and flowers, trying to look like this was business-as-usual. The security guard did a double take, but I find if you act as though nothing is wrong people will generally assume all is well.) And secondly I was given a bag of gluten-free goodies from a specialty bakery.

When there are great little shops like this bakery catering to special dietary needs, gluten-free becomes a whole lot better. Yesterday I ate a piece of vanilla sponge cake that was awesome. Not a bit of wheat in the thing, and you would never have realized. And today I’m going to (about to) sink my teeth into a brownie sans gluten. I’ll have to eventually remind myself that just because there’s no wheat doesn’t make this beautiful food any less like a dessert (with all that sugar, cream, and sugar and cream). Oh well, I’ll probably still eat that brownie.

Isn’t food the ultimate comfort? From a nice meal  you didn’t have to make (speaking of which, just ordered another load from Cook!), to crafting a new concoction (last night it was ‘everything in the pot’ with miso for flavour. Turned out surprising well), to whipping up dessert (the choice fuel for Zsolt’s thesismobile), to a hot pot of tea. Yum.

So those were the two very nice things that happened to me last week. And now here we are in a new week. What nice thing has happened? Well, I’m 2/3rds through radiotherapy – so that is awesome. My chest has turned pink, and sometimes feels slightly sore. I’m thankful for my two days away from radiotherapy because it’s a good chance to rest.

Honestly I don’t have any more to write. All I know is that Lulu was waiting for a blog post – so here it is, Lulu! Good food and Radiotherapy updates.  Write more later, so stay tuned.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Happy Valentine’s Day! How are you celebrating this love-filled day? Roses and wine, maybe some chocolates? Sounds very good. Throw in a bubble bath and I’ll be there in ten minutes (with a book to read while the bathroom door is closed and I sink into the suds – no funny business allowed, thank you very much).  As for Zsolt and I, the day was business as usual with a card here and personalized stamp set there. Also, I’m making töltött káposzta for dinner with a Hungarian recipe that I cannot read – handwriting being so subjective – and hoping things go well for a nice romantic dinner. Zsolt is snuggling up to his supervisor at the University, going through his thesis.

Today was busy for various reasons: radiotherapy, career fair, lecture about internet marketing, work of the library, visit from the shipping company, and doctor’s appointment. It was the appointment that really had my attention.  Looking at the day, it appears to be busy, but in reality it is distracting.

Distraction was needed.

Half way through my library shift I left to walk over to the Doctor’s office. Two things were required: One, renew my prescription and Two, get a referral to the breast clinic.

Arriving at the doctor’s I checked myself in and took a seat. At the moment I’m reading this book called “Mennonite in a little black dress” which is, somewhat like this blog, a light encounter with shitty circumstances (and great family stories) – plus, the author is funny. I love funny. So there I was waiting for the doctor, reading my book, and trying not to stare at the children in the reception playing with the table of shapes on windy painted wires. Remember those? There’s a table with different colour blocks – and somehow, as a child, it is fascinating to wind them along the wire. I remember many a doctor’s office and health food stores where that windy wire captivated my imagination.

Lately children bring up weird feelings – I’m not sure whether to like them, resent them, want them, play with them, or just ignore them. Heck, some are adorable (e.g. my friend’s tiny girl with the ever-smiling face; she saw me without any hair and just smiled, so innocently, like I was anyone else and there was nothing wrong with that. Geez, she was cute), actually most kids are adorable. Lately, I haven’t spotted a child who wasn’t totally sweet and charming. But they always remind me that I still haven’t gotten my period. And more so, they remind me of the baby/breast hospital where I was first diagnosed. Clearly this a bad association, and something I ought shake off. But for now, babies remind me of 2 things: possible infertility, and possible breast cancer.

Which takes me back to the chair in the waiting room, ignoring the children, and anxious to speak with my doctor about these lumps in my left breast.

She opens the door –sporting a stylish new haircut – and calls me in with a grin. This is a university health care center. The chances of being remembered by your doctor are generally not high, but she remembers me (flattering) because of my breast lump (less flattering), which she referred to the breast clinic. Let’s call her Dr Kind.

Why Dr Kind? Because I like her. 🙂  She is genuine in her concern, and for some reason I find it infinitely easier to talk with this woman about my worries than any of the other doctors. It’s not just because she is a woman (thought that’s partly the reason, I guess); when the cancer was first confirmed she was notified by fax from the general hospital. Upon receiving this fax, she called me on my mobile and invited me in for a chat. That’s good doctoring.

Anyhow, I go up on her table and take off my top, and she starts prodding around. Funny, taking off my top is like nothing now. All that self-consciousness has flown out the window. She commented on how my scar has healed nicely, and I didn’t realize I was showing her my scar – In my head, this is my chest. I forget that a breast is missing, because I don’t notice as much anymore.

That’s a good sign, eh.

Anyhow, she starts prodding. There are bumps and lumps in my left breast, which is normal for a young woman with dense tissue. The question here is: are they cancerous?

“They couldn’t be reoccurance,” she assured me. “Not this long after chemo.”


“It’d have to be a new cancer.”


“But I really think you have nothing to worry about, it’s really quite soon.”


“Though that’s what I said last time.”


And then we laughed, because it was funny – a little dark, but funny. Here we were in the same situation as last May, and she was giving me the same reassurance (don’t worry, it’s probably nothing). Except it was something.

But not this time. That’s what I’m praying. Fingers crossed, legs crossed, arms crossed, eyes crossed. Not thing time, okay? Tomorrow I’ll call the clinic to arrange an appointment. She’s faxed off the referral so they’ll be waiting for my call. But this time I want better results. The hot springs of Hungary are waiting. It’s time for some peace of mind.

Weird going back to the doctor’s office, the very place I first took my initial lump.  Weird laughing at how far we’ve come. But sometimes all you can do is laugh. Laugh or cry, they’re not too different after all.

And that – in a nut shell – was my very busy Valentine’s Day.

Radiotherapy 33% done

One week down, two more to go – that is 33% of the treatment completed. By now there is a light redness to the area and you can literally see the line along which they shoot me. But one foot in front of the other, in three weeks time who knows how it’ll look (maybe I’ll draw a picture once we get there).

Apart from the itching everything is okay. It’s funny because a lady was kind enough to suggest I get loads of rest, which was the only thing that helped her. This upcoming week we’ll have a moving evaluation, there is a talk at the uni, I work each day, then writing group and eventually we’ll have to do the groceries. It’s not overwhelming, but I wouldn’t call it restful.

Tomorrow I’ll visit my GP in the afternoon. She needs to refill my prescription, and I’d very much like if she could give my left boob a feel. There are some bumps in there that worry me, and if I could get sent for an ultrasound it would be very good. Frankly, it’s embarrassing to be so worried – so obviously paranoid – but maybe a scan would help ease my mind. Until an ultrasound says, “nope, not cancer” I cannot help worrying that something is lurking.

Tomorrow is another week, and another chunk of radiation. I’m sitting pretty at 33%, and looking forward to knocking off another third. One step at a time. Sooner than later treatment will be over.