Four more sleeps

Christmas is coming! Ack! Have much to do to make up for the "time out" while I was sick this past week. Turns out a flu was the cause of my grief and, thankfully, not the gall bladder. Spent part of last night in St Mary's ER with Momzy who was hit by the same bug. The attending doctor and nurse told us they had the same thing - violent vomiting and diarrhea that lasted four to 12 hours. Apparently there is a lot of this going around at the moment. Like me, poor Momzy got very dehydrated and couldn't keep any fluids down so they put her on an IV of saline to bring her levels back up. She left the ER much perkier than when she went in. Let's hope that's the end of all of that. Now, on to the Christmas baking. Anyone have a spare cup of dark rye flour for my flat bread?

Gall? Me?

The vomiting and diarrhea of Sunday/Monday may be behind me (so to speak), but I'm not feeling a whole lot better. Finally dragged my aching body to the doctor this am. Dr J is away, so I met with a locum. He suspects an issue involving my gall bladder so has ordered an ultrasound. The order is marked "urgent" so I should have it in the next day or two. In the meantime, I'm laying pretty low. Little appetite, lots of discomfort (no pain) and general aches, so I'm heading back to bed. Hate to think the gall bladder - or any other organ - is involved. For once, I'm hoping I have the flu. In any case it sure beats having the measles like I did one Christmas when I was a kid.

Bad Night

Call it a not-so-gentle reminder that all is not as well with me on the molecular level as it might be.

Picture it (or not, especially if you are reading this during breakfast, lunch or similar happy time). I had just slipped into freshly cleaned jammies, was snuggling into my cozy bed for some much welcomed sleep when the mid section of my body suddenly woke up. Without any prior warning (aside from a very delicate belch), I embarked on a program of projectile vomiting and diarrhea that would last from 11pm to 6am. Things would just settle down when they started up again in earnest with each episode being worst than the one before. Trust me when I say I have renewed respect for any parent who has experienced an exploding diaper or a very, very sick child with tummy issues. Without being too overly graphic, things got so bad at one point that I scrambled to fashion a pair of diapers from a green garbage bag so I could at least lie down between each eruption without causing any further damage to my newly renovated house. (Sadly, that new house smell is no more.) Suspect the root cause of my malady lay in a bag of potato chips - although it didn't smell or taste rancid and the best before date is long into the future - or something else I ate yesterday. Regardless, aside from the events that lead to my hospitalization in March, I cannot recall ever having such an experience. Today I plan to devote as much time as possible to laying in bed as it is still the most comfortable position at the moment. Hope to catch up on some of that missed sleep. Momzy will be pleased to know that I am taking every opportunity to drink plenty of water - amazing how quickly the body becomes dehydrated.

Let's hope the rest of the week is far less dramatic.

Capecitabine

My oncologist has sent me some more information about Capecitabine (Xeloda), the Plan B drug she told me about a couple of weeks ago. The information comes from the BC Cancer Agency Drug Manual, a more reliable source than Wikipedia and other online medical advise sites where I gleaned my initial information.  That is not to say the information from any source is particularly appealing. The BCCA information lists side effects in the order in which they might occur. The least savory of the lot - the hand-foot skin reaction - appears at the top of the list, with nausea/vomiting, diarrhea, sore mouth, decreased white blood cells and platelets, and fatigue falling further down the list (in the order that I have written them here). Apparently my skin will be more susceptible to sunburn as well. Hair loss, it seems, is a very rare side effect of this drug.

It is the hand-foot skin reaction that scares me most. As I've said before, I care far less about the length of my life than the quality of it. Should I beat the prognosis and live well past the one year I should have remaining (statistically speaking, as soon as the cancer entered my lungs I was only expected to live another two years max), I'll be damned if I want to spend the entire time confined to my bed, comfortable as it may be. As long as I continue to feel as good as I do at present, I intend to do some serious traveling. Also plan to do more work around the garden and in the art/craft line while I'm still able to do physical stuff and activities requiring fine motor skills. These are, after all, the activities that bring me so much joy. None of these things will be possible if my hands and feet are numb, swollen, and painful. The "management" suggestions given in the BCCA bumpf state that I should avoid tight-fitting shoes and apply liberal amounts of Bag Balm to the skin of the affected areas once the hand-foot thing kicks in. That's a mighty flimsy band-aid treatment for the problem, if my previous experience with Taxol is anything to go by.

Still feel I've made the right decision for me re "taking a break" for the time being. If the pulling in my left side becomes more pronounced (i.e. if it starts occurring regularly and not only when I turn at certain angles) or if shortness of breath becomes as much an impediment to activity as it did in the early spring, I might be tempted to seek advice about other potential treatment sooner rather than later. I will, however, admit there is a very faint voice in the far recesses of my ever-greying grey matter that whispers that the present plan of foregoing treatment might not be in my best interest. A very, very faint voice. In any case, at this time I am not the least bit interested in sourcing alternative treatments - although I thank everyone who passed along info re the pureed asparagus diet, some treatments that are being pioneered in Eastern Europe and South America, etc.

When people look at me, they don't see someone who is terminally ill. I certainly don't feel it - although it must be said that I've never been terminally ill before so am not entirely certain how one is supposed to look/act/feel in such a situation. It's sort of like asking someone how they feel on their birthday, as if they somehow transform into a more mature or aged being once the clock strokes midnight. Heck, I can't honestly say that I feel a whole lot different now than when I was 42, 32, 22, or 12 - aside from the arthritis that has invaded my knee, the expansion of my waistline that makes it impossible to wear my high school prom dress (yes, I still have it!), and the unbelievable unmentionable affects of gravity on an ever-aging body. Maybe that's what it's all about! The butt stops here! Or is it here? With my luck, my butt will continue growing long after I cease breathing - unlike nails and hair (sorry to shatter any delusions of folks believing in that urban myth). I seem to remember someone saying noses and ears continue to grow throughout our lives, too. That explains so much, doesn't it? And then folks wonder why I live alone. I mean, really!

Back to flaky me

Finally have a date to see the dermatologist re whatever on my back had the surgeon so excited a couple of weeks back. Won't be able to see her until early Jan, but since I've opted to visit her office near Lions Gate Hospital, I can get in a full month sooner than if I waited for her next visit to Sechelt. Something tells me that all those summer days basting in the sun a la Johnson's Baby Oil have finally caught up with me. Either that, or my increasingly dry skin is more problematic than I suspected.

Speaking of dry skin, the area under my left eye is positively flaky - even more than my general personality, and that's saying something. I'm talking about flakes bigger than anything found in my favourite childhood breakfast cereal (obviously I never chowed on Wheaties). The area extends from my tear duct to the middle of my eye, and from the outer rim of the lower lid to the middle of my morning "bags". Fortunately, I chose to wear round-framed glasses, so the unsightly site isn't overly obvious to anyone paying me a passing glance. But it's darn irritating, and it brings with it a rather dull ache. It's like the lid is bruised from the inside. Looks very much like eczema. I've had this before, but this time no amount of moisturizer or steriod cream is making a bit of difference. Will consult Dr J if it doesn't clear up in a couple of days.

Other than that, I continue to plod along. Do notice that I've developed something of an attention deficit of late. Can't seem to do just one thing at a time, and don't seem to finish much of anything that I start. Part of the problem is that if I don't do something the moment I think of it - or at least write down that it should be done - I immediately forget about it. Gag! Is age catching up with me, too? Say it ain't so!

On the Homefront ...

For anyone wondering what Phil has been doing since he arrived here on Aug 5, here's a hint:

Told him he was standing other home renos in the area on their ear (hence the sideways video)! I was going to say he made very good constructive use of his time, but I can assure you there was plenty of destruction involved in the project as well. (Too bad I'm not looking for a career on HGTV. This would make a great audition tape, no?)
Phil heads home today. I'm sure he thinks the moment hasn't come soon enough. Me? I'm not so sure.

Another Weight Loss Plan Foiled

There I was, snuggled under a nicely warmed blanket that kept the draft along the opened back of my hospital gown at bay. I had arrived a bit early for my appointment at St Mary's ACU. Dr Goddard arrived within minutes. I fully expected to lose a pound of flesh via the removal of "suspicious" moles on my back. Dr G checked the spots. He noticed some others he liked even less. That's when he asked if I had seen Annette somethingorother, "the dermatologist". I said no, I hadn't been referred to a dermatologist. Dr G suggested that I meet with her before he removes anything. He also suggested taking along my cell phone so that I could have her photograph the spots she was most concerned about so he didn't remove anything unnecessarily. So, I left weighing the same amount as when I arrived. Guess I'll have to resort to a sensible eating plan after all. Dang!

Hibernation

Snow clumps on branches
Like so many
Frozen white blossoms


Okay, so it's not the best of haikus - likely doesn't even have the classic pattern of one. When I wrote that a couple of years back, I must have known how the sedum would look as I peered out the window this morning. Pristine white clumps everywhere in the garden. Mercury is dropping apace, too. Perhaps this explains why I slept most of the weekend. Like Bruno who occasionally lumbers past my yard, I'm in hibernation mode. Either that or I'm trying to recharge after the stresses of the last couple of weeks. No matter, the bed is cozy so I am, too.

Ready, Set ...

STOP!!!

The drug trial I was to take part in has been cancelled. Turns out one of the drugs (Foretinib) is causing blood clots in the lungs of some folks who have been taking it. It should be said, however, that the woman who had already embarked on the drug trail I was take part in has not experienced any such problem, nor has she had any other particularly unsavoury or unexpected side effects of the drug cocktail (Fretinib + Lapatinib). Even so, the makers of Foretinib have pulled it from general use as well as from any ongoing or upcoming drug trials as a precaution until they are able to remedy the situation.

Confess the news threw me for quite the loop. I was so psyched up for the trial, eager to try something that might be the answer to my problems, at least for the foreseeable future. Alas, it was not to be. Although I have never borne children, I suspect the feeling currently experienced would be akin to thinking I was entering my third trimester only to learn that I was never pregnant but was suffering from the lasting effect of a rather satisfying albeit indulgent ingestion of some sort. My brain is having a trouble shifting gears.

Some potential alternatives:

I could take the Lapatinib alone. It is fully licensed (unlike Foretinib) and has a much longer history of use. However, Lapatinib is not covered by either government or private health care programs. I would have to pay the entire cost of the drug myself - to the tune of $3500/month!! Okay, so the drug company is willing to offer a discount to non-extended-health-coverage patients, but that amounts to little more than a $500 reduction in the cost. Even at that, the price far exceeds my budget. Thus, this is not an option.

Another suggestion is to take another drug entirely. Capecitabine is another drug that has shown good results in patients with a similar case history to my own. This is another orally-administered chemotherapeutic agent. One cycle includes two weeks of treatment (one pill twice/day) followed by one week without treatment. Cycles can be repeated every three weeks. The advantage of this option is that it can be undertaken in Sechelt, under the supervision of Dr. Wadge. In addition to the usual nausea, diarrhea and fatigue, Capecitabine can cause mild to severe renal dysfunction as well as myocardio infraction or angina, as well as something called hand-foot syndrome. Given the hand and foot issues I experienced while taking Taxol two years ago (with mild tingling continuing to occur in my left foot and ongoing cramping of finger joints in both hands these many months later), I'm more than a tad leary of this alternative.

Of course, there is nothing that says I have to accept either - or any - of these courses of treatment. I currently feel very well. I have a decent level of energy and mobility. I have no pain, only mild discomfort and then only occasionally. The cancer is not spreading so quickly that I must decide a plan of action immediately.

So I'm opting to do nothing. For now. I'll take the time to make every effort to cross a few more things off my "bucket list".

Should I change my mind in a day, a week, a month, a couple of months, my oncologist will be more than willing to talk to me about the various options (as listed above as well as some other IV-administered drug options) when I feel symptoms worsening or should I feel the need to start on another treatment for whatever reason. Remember, the goal is quality of life. My reality is that the disease will spread to other organs over time no matter what my oncology team throws at me. Nothing will ever be a "cure". My life will not be prolonged. But if what I'm currently experiencing is any indication of how things will go for the foreseeable future, I see no reason to try a new drug that might not sit with me as well as past treatments have. I count myself incredibly luck to have experienced so few side effects. I'm not keen to push my luck any more than necessary.

For now, I'm taking a short course in glass fusion and planning to host Christmas dinner in my beautifully renovated home. Yup, things could be a lot worse.

I'm Number Two!!

This week's visit to the oncologist helped clarify several questions I had re the upcoming clinical trial. First of all, I am not the second person in Canada to be taking this combination of drugs. Rather, I'm the second person in the world to do so. Who'd a thunk it? Me, a medical pioneer? For reasons relating to maintaining the privacy of the first person embarking on the trial, I can only be told that the woman is "around" my age and also has metastasized breast cancer - although I haven't a clue re which organs are involved in her case. Here are a few more things that I learned: I won't start the trial until Dec 7. That will allow the first participant to have a complete month's worth of the drugs - and the trial overseers to monitor/resolve any side effects/unforeseen issues that crop up during that time - prior to my first dose. The next person to join the trial will wait until I've receive a month's worth of the drugs before she starts. Together, the three of us will form the first group of trial participants. Each of us will receive a 50% dosage of each of the two drugs. The second group of trial participants will receive a slightly higher dosage, and the next group a higher dosage still. This method of gradually increasing the dosage for each group will help the researchers determine the optimum dosage of each drug that will produce the side effects. The trial period for each group of three participants will be six months in duration. During that time, I will have a CT scan every six weeks rather than every three months as I have in the past. This will ensure that any shortcomings of the treatment will be detected sooner rather than later. I will also receive heart scans (either MUGA or ECG) on a similarly regular basis, for the same reasons. In addition, for the first month of the study, I will be required to report to the BC Cancer Agency in Vancouver on a weekly basis for blood tests and other monitoring. During the second to sixth months, the tests will only be required on a bi-weekly basis.

During the course of the trial, I can expect to be plagued with diarrhea, nausea, and fatigue. One of the drugs is also likely to cause night-blindness (so no driving after dark for me). I do not need to adjust my diet unless diarrhea or nausea issues need to be addressed. I can continue will any and all activities that I feel capable of undertaking. However, I cannot travel outside of the Greater Vancouver area for "at least" the first month of the trial in case I need emergency attention - since the folks involved with the study are likely the only ones knowing what to do to assist me. After that, I only need to be mindful of the dates when I need to report to the Agency.

So what happens after the six month trial ends? Well, that's a good question and one that nobody is able to answer at this time. If all goes as planned and the drugs and I get along, it is hoped that funding will be available for me to continue on with the drug regime. At present, the drugs are not covered by any medical plan, and they are not covered by the Cancer Agency. However, my oncologist and the trial study team assures me that every effort will be made to secure funding for the drugs should they prove beneficial in my case. Incidentally, nobody would tell me just how much these drugs would cost should I have to pay for them myself - the oncologist said I likely can't count that high anyway! Yikes!

If the drugs used in the trial prove to be ineffective, or if funding is not forthcoming, the oncologist assures me there is another plan waiting on the back burner. However, the drug trial is thought to be a more effective alternative for me at this time, so we're going with that option first.

Some followers of this blog have asked what will determine the effectiveness of this trial. Well, it is not to cure cancer. In my case, that ship sailed long ago. Chemotherapy was prescribed when it was thought that a cure was possible, but once the cancer spread beyond the breast and axial nodes - and even further into some of those newly affected organs - a "cure" was no longer in the cards. Thus, everything that will be given to me from now will (hopefully) slow the spread of the disease and prolong the highest quality of life obtainable. I'm good with that. Always felt quality of life trumped length of life and doubt I'll change that view any time soon.

So, on Dec 7, I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that my body likes these new drugs, that they are easily tolerated with minimal side effects, that funding will be available to cover the cost of the drugs after the six-month trial ends, and I can continue enjoying my happy little life. And I am sure that will be the case. God willing.

Start Test

Off to Vancouver today for some chores prior meeting with the oncology team tomorrow. After that meeting, I'll have a CT scan, the first of a string of tests needed before I can start the clinical trial. I'm sure I'll soon appreciate all this extra radiation exposure as the winter chill is starting to set in.

scary stuff

Somehow between co-ordinating my new medical treatment, taking care of Momzy, and having my house renovated I've found some time for a bit of fun. For Halloween, I thought I'd give in to Momzy's pleas for a new set of eyes by purchasing a set similar to those included in a Mr Potato Head kit. In keeping with the season, we opted for a larger, oranger vegetable than the typical tuber. Here are the results of our efforts - Penny's is hands down the most frightening of the lot!

As if that weren't scary enough for all you blog followers, here's a shot of the lunch I was served at the hospital on my last day of chemo. Not sure why a salt package was included as the soup was surely from that mineral base. The white stuff under the processed turkey and salty gravy is congealed instant rice. The carrots in the salad were wilted and the raisins hard. The over-steeped tea was like mud. The very yellow "lemon" pudding was the most palatable item on the tray (lactose intolerance prevented me from sampling the milk, which I'm sure would have won the taste test hands down). And folks wonder why hospital patients don't get better faster!

Miss Spelt

Received the info re the drug trial. Turns out I spelt the name of one drug incorrectly. It's really Foretinib. Here's what the background sheet tells me:

Foretinib is a new type of drug that slows or stops the growth of new blood vessels in animal studies and it also directly affects cancer cell growth by blocking the action of a specific protein called c-Met. These effects may prevent or slow the growth of your cancer. Foretinib has been tested in some subjects with different types of cancers and some have benefited from this treatment, but it has not yet been studied in breast cancer. The doese and side effects of Foretinib when used alone are known. Foretinib is an investigational drug that has not yet been approved by Health Canada, although it ahs been approved for use in this clinical trial.


Lapatinib is a drug that works by "turning off" the HER2 receptor, a protein which causes breast cancers to grow and spread. Lapatinib has been studied in clinical trials before, and has been approved by Health Canada for use in HER2 positive breast cancer. Its use together with Foretinib is investigational, although it has been approved for use in this clinical trial.


It is not clear whether taking drugs such as Foretinib with Lapatinib will be better than taking Lapatinib alone. This clinical trial is the first time Foretinib and Lapatinib will be given together. Lapatinib given alone in your situation in clincial trials would suggest the chance of controlling the growth of your cancer of approximately 12%. Currently Lapatinib is not approved by Health Canada to be given alone in this scenario.

Hope this helps answer some of the questions folks are asking me.

On Trial

Got the CT scan results today. Not the results I had hoped for, mind. Seems my ongoing cough has been due to some new lesions on my lungs. No surprise really in that the depth of the cough and its association with lying down or bending over are so similar to the cough I had back in February. So, today was my last chemo day. At least for now. Spoke to my oncologist today and she is recommending a change in treatment since the Herceptin is no longer doing its job, likely due to my system developing a resistance to it or something like that. I will be taking part in a clinical trial of a drug combo that might get me back on track. The main drug, Lapatinib, works very much like the Herceptin. This will be paired with another drug called Feretanin (or something like that, can't find the proper spelling just now) which will attack from another pathway. Both are oral medications. (I will be keeping the port-a-cath for now, in case it is needed down the road, ie if we have to turn to Plan C.) Since this will be part of a clinical trial, I will have to go to the Cancer Agency in Vancouver to get the drug. My understanding is that I will take the drugs daily for a month (length of each cycle) but will only need to go to the Agency four times in the first month. Will only have to go in twice each month (each subsequent cycle is also a month long) after that. I don't have a start date as of yet. Need to have a few more tests before things can get rolling. Thank goodness I've recently had a CT scan. Will be having an echo-cardiogram in a couple weeks. Will also need a bone scan and a MUGA (heart scan). The other requirement is that my last chemo has to be at least 21 days prior to the start of the trial. So we're looking at mid-November to at the earliest as a start date. As far as I know, the only nasty side effects of the Lapatinib are diarrhea and a slim chance of toxic hepatitis. The Feretanin or whatever its called can cause high blood pressure. I'm sure I'll learn more of the good, bad, and ugly aspects of both drugs once I get all the info that is being sent along with the consent form that the study nurse is mailing. Quite bummed about not seeing the ACU team at St Mary's on a weekly basis. Also bummed that the current drug cocktail isn't working its magic quite as well as we had all hoped. At least there is an alternative treatment. And if this doesn't work, there are others we can try. So things could be much, much worse.

This drug trial thing had me wondering about what other trial offers might be available should I wish to check them out. I did a Google search of "trial offer". Interesting to find that I can get a sample of True Lemon, a lemon juice substitute (I assume they don't mean lime juice) but can't try Your Life Multi Adult Gummies, a "multivitamin speciality formula with fiber" because it is only available to US residents "whilst stocks last". The name of the product alone has me thinking myself lucky to be living north of the 49th. Interesting that Guerlain's Orchidée Impériale, an anti-aging product, is only available to Canadians. (What good is longer life if I can't improve my health with fibre-loaded multivitamins, I ask you?) Another post tells me that I can obtain a Vegetarian Starter Kit if only I would complete a form using all caps (which the post informs me = uppercase lettering - hope the kit is as informative as the post). Apparently Christina Aquilera's marriage isn't the only thing in trouble; she's giving away samples of her Royal Desire fragrance to UK residents only. If that doesn't get my olfactory lob tingling at just the right tempo, I can click onto another site offering such weird fragrances as boiled crawfish, money, or pumpkin spice. Some of the other strange things one can obtain trial offers/free samples of include e-cigarettes and Jewish Outreach Magnetic Poetry. Given the competition, I think I'm about to receive the best trial offer of all!

Scanned as Planned

Yesterday was CT scan day for me, and it turned into a rather long day. I arrived at St Mary's Hospital at 7:30am as instructed, only to find the CT Scan dept didn't open until 8am. No problemo, I brought a book. When the front desk was up and running, I was told to go to the ACU (where I have my weekly chemo treatments) to be "hydrated" before receiving the scan. My usual cheerful team was in attendance, so it didn't take long to have the port accessed and the necessary fluid coursing through my veins. I wondered aloud at the need for hydration as I had two previous scans without a similar prep. Turns out my latest blood test showed my GFR (glomerular filtration rate - the best indication of kidney function) was low so the extra fluid was needed to protect my kidneys against any nasty affects from the contrast dye used during the scan. Apparently some patients (in an effort to avoid the need for several hours of being hooked up to an IV before and after the scan) drink lots of water just prior to blood tests. Not sure whether that would give an accurate reading, so am kinda glad I had the IV treatment after all. Besides, it gave me time to finish up a book - A Natural History of the Senses by Diane Ackerman.

A couple of hours later, I was ready for my scan so headed back downstairs to the appropriate department. The tech expressed dismay at the sight of the port line and ordered me back upstairs to have an IV line inserted into my arm. Apparently the can't inject the dye via a port. The only vein willing to put out the effort was the same one on the inside of my right elbow that offers up a blood sample for my weekly chemo prep. So, picture it, there I was walking back down to the scanning department with a line hanging from my port (in readiness for the post-scan hydration and the chemo treatment that would follow) and another from the inside of my right elbow. Must have been quite the sight. En route I passed a group of new volunteers taking part in an orientation session. One volunteer, after recovering from the shock of seeing someone walking about with IV lines hanging from her body, asked if I was escaping. I responded by winking and putting an index finger to my lips which caused a couple of the other volunteers to laugh.

The scan itself went on without a hitch. Had the same "hot flash" feeling that I had during the previous scans - a very common thing. Did learn there is no infection in my chest - a relief given the amount of coughing I've been doing lately. Will have to wait until next week before I have any further results. Am pretty confident (me says with fingers crossed) that what ails me is only a virus.

After the scan, I headed back to the ACU for post-scan hydration and my usual weekly chemo. In all, it was an 8hr day. I was pooped. Slept very well last night as a result.

CT scan planned

In my next life, I am destined to become a supermodel. I base this theory on the simple fact that my person has been highly photographed over the last couple of years. I laugh at the thought of Tyra, Giselle, Linda and the rest cozying up so close to Canon and Nikon that every pore of their skin is revealed in all its cavernous glory. Heck, every fractional inch of me - both inside and out - has been under so many lenses of late that I can likely out vogue any so-called supermodel faster than you can say "cover shot" (bonus: images from my photo sessions don't have to undergo the embarrassment of PhotoShop touch-ups). Even so, it seems the health care professionals can't see enough of me. On October 14, I will undergo a day-long session at the CT scanning dept at St Mary's Hospital in Sechelt. I will be checked in at 8am and leave the facility some time around 2 or 2:30pm. Apparently I'll be spending most of the time bonding with Ivy in order to hydrate as much as possible both before and after the scan. Seems this is necessary as the dye is very hard on the kidneys and hydration reduces the chance of injury to those organs. Can only hope there are washroom facilities nearby.

Time Flies

Can't believe it's been so long since I wrote my last post. Am I having fun yet? Suddenly finding myself surrounded by a number of home renos as well as the need to deal with some serious changes in my mother's health/lifestyle. I'm also undergoing a few medical test of my own right now. Suspicion is that I have a bad cold, but the cough is of a concern so a CAT scan has been ordered - swear I'll turn into a feline sooner rather than later if I have many more of those! On the up side of life (and there is always an up side), much of the last week has been taken up by Mom's 90th birthday celebrations. The party continues this weekend as I'm taking her to visit close friends in Everett, WA. Might be the last trip for her, so I hope it's a happy one. Will post photos of all the goings on once I have access to Phil's camera.

My Photo Secrets Revealed

Since posting the bit about my New York adventure, several folks have remarked about my photo with Mary Poppins. While I would like to think my computer skills warrant the high praise, there really wasn't much to it. Really. All I did was stand in front of the over-sized poster hanging outside the theatre. The poster had been specially installed so that Poppins-wannabes and other fans could have their photo snapped alongside every child's dream nanny. Kinda felt like a wide-eyed kid posing with an assortment of over-sized plush-covered cartoon characters in so many Disneyland holiday photos. (Isn't it interesting that all those characters have a lot to say in their films but are absolutely silent in person? Must be amazing performance rates in their contracts!) But I digress.

Even though the photo posted on that earlier blog entry was created through no trick photography or computer magic, the result was surprisingly difficult to achieve. The following earlier attempts at publishable quality images underscore the point.

Here, a rather nervous me isn't quite sure I'll like the flying thing. Had a bit of trouble with the lift-off.

Mary makes it all look so easy, doesn't she? Well, since I do believe in magic, I opted to give it another try. Not sure if my pleading for assistance or the petting of her arm was gonna help, however.

Unfortunately, a bad camera angle makes my pre-flight practice session look like an X-rated groping session! The next image may not be suitable for all readers of this blog. Viewer discression is advised.

Looks like I'm as shocked with the result of that effort as Mary was. Thank goodness her parrot umbrella/security guard is well trained.

Finally, after four attempts, the camera, Mary and I get ourselves co-ordinated and the final photo was worth publishing. Gosh but posing for photos is hard work. No wonder stars try to avoid the papparazzi. On the other hand, the experience was good training should I ever decide to take to the stage. Now I only have to work on my singing and dancing. Thank goodness my parents had me in pantomime classes all those years ago. Excuse me while I get back to brushing up on those skills.

Butt

Gardeners are - let's face it - control freaks.  Who else would
willingly spend his leisure hours wresting weeds out of the ground,
blithely making life or death decisions about living beings, moving
earth from here to there, changing the course of waterways?  The
more one thinks about it, the odder it seems; this compulsion to
remake a little corner of the planet according to some plan or vision.
-   Abby Adams, What is a Garden Anyway

If we are to take Ms. Adams' word for truth, I'm not much of a gardener. The proof lies in the northwest corner of my lot. Some of the weeds there are taller than I and have the propensity of prolific procreation. Somehow, that is the part of the garden that receives the least amount of attention, likely because it is the one farthest from view and the area where I am least likely to pass by. But this is September, the month of new beginnings. And so it was that I stepped into the garden with renewed vigor and determination to regain control of said rampaging rough patch before the snow flies. I have little doubt my plan would have succeeded had it not been for a particularly menacing bramble root. No ordinary root this, it taunted me by allowing one end to be effortlessly extracted from the earth. It was soon apparent that I would have less luck with the business end of the bramble, and so I did what any self-respecting weed whacker would do - I tossed my head back with a demonic laugh that underscored my desire to kill the pesky plant once and for all and emphasized the point by putting my back into the next lethal tug. That's when I heard an odd noise. Faint though it was, there was little doubt the sound emanated from my back rather than from the ground. No doubt the rogue root got the last laugh as sciatica took hold. That was a week ago. Since then, I've popped more than a few Robaxacet tablets and sought comfort in the coils of Momzy's electric heating pad. While I can still feel the odd twinge when I think of bending or shifting from a sit/stand position, the worst of it seems to be, well, behind me. Note to self: judiciously prune roots in future. And use a hoe rather than subjecting my rapidly aging back to further abuse. And always, always, bend the knees. 

Marks and More

I continue to feel a bit more tired post-chemo than I have in recent weeks. The internist overseeing my treatment says that my body is having to readjust to the drugs after the two-week hiatus during my travels. Other than that, I'm doing okay. Have gained a bit of the NYC weight loss back, but that's not at all surprising since I am no longer walking 8+ hours each day in high humidity. Some of my "plumbing" continues to be temperamental, apparently a common side effect of the Vinorelbine. On the good news front, my tumour markers continue to decrease. For those who aren't familiar with the term, a tumour marker is a naturally occurring substance that can be found in the blood, urine or body tissue. It's level is elevated in the presence of cancer. Different cancers have specific and different markers. When I was first diagnosed in March, my particular marker level was 29. It is currently hovering around the 17 mark. This is very good news and another indication that the current treatment is working. Told ya I'd kick the two-year prognosis in the butt!

To sleep ...

The combination of an active couple of weeks, pleasant reduction in heat and humidity, and first chemo in two weeks have conspired against me. It's 6pm and I'm just getting out of bed. A quick something to eat, a check of the email, and I'm already thinking of a reunion with my pillow. Think I'll take life a tad slower for the next while. At least Phil is still around to help care for Momzy.

A Jolly Holiday

Home again after a whirlwind tour of Vancouver, Toronto and New York. Felt good most of the time without needing a daily nap. In fact, I managed to spend walk 10,000 steps (some days considerably more) each day I was away.

My tour began with an event that has long been on my "bucket list", seeing a Cirque de Soleil performance. Joined Penny, Marcia, Roz, and Roz's sister Jan at Kooza, the latest Cirque offering to hit Vancouver. It was amazing! Swear the contortionist didn't have a bone in her body. Gasped at the acrobats as they did flips while walking on a rotating wheel that was spinning around while attached to another rotating wheel. Others did amazing high-wire stunts, managed to balance on a unicycle while flipping a fellow performer about like an ice dancer, or other amazing feats. Laughed at the slapstick antics of the clowns/buffoons. The only slow/less-than-slick performance came from the slight-of-hand comedian. Incredible sets. Even more incredible costumes. Well worth the expense. Has increased my interest in hitting Vegas to see Cirque's water-based spectacle, O.

The next day I hung out with Roz and her sister Jan as it was my only chance to see Jan before she returned home to Florida. A fun day on Granville Island.

 
Spent most of the next day resting in preparation for the events of the next few days - travels to Toronto and New York. Good thing I was well rested as the flurry of activity came with a backdrop of very hot and humid weather. The only rain came as a sudden monsoon in Toronto - I was wearing my gardening sandals at the time and had trouble keeping my footing thanks to the water turning the dirt-stained foot bed into a muddied slick. The unbearable humidity was a good reminder of why I moved back to the West Coast after grad school.

Donna's brother was getting married in TO, hence the reason for starting the adventure there. Had a great time reconnecting with Donna's relatives whom I have met over the years and also enjoyed the chance to meet her parents and other family members. (Donna's sister Diane also introduced me to three members of her weekly prayer group who pray for me each week! I had no idea they did this and was very touched by their kind action. They were as happy to finally have a face to attach to the name as they were to hear that their efforts were having the desired effect.) I stayed with Donna's and my mutual friend Yuri and enjoyed catching up with her, too. I also took the opportunity to explore Toronto a bit. Much has changed since I was there last (1994?). I was especially interested in the conversion of the old Gooderman & Worts distillery area into a hip and happening loft/artist studio/design district. Many of the old structures have been given a new lease on life while retaining much of their industrial architecture charm. Also made a pilgrimage to the Textile Museum, but wasn't particularly interested in the exhibits that were on display. Not overly enamoured with the Alsop's addition to the OCAD. Nothing much of interest at the AGO - although I hoped to return on the weekend when the Drama & Desire exhibit (which examined the relationship between artists and the theatre) would include a live performance. Other commitments took me elsewhere, however. Oh, and I did do a bit of retail therapy - picked up some fabulous Japanese-made ribbons at Mokuba, some unique clothes at Kaliyana, and some letter fittings for knitted handbags at Americo. Also checked out the offerings at the G&S Dye shop near the Textile Museum.

Following the wedding, Donna, Yuri and I headed to New York for a few days of fun and frivolity. We stayed at the Pod Hotel on E 51st between 2nd and 3rd. A fun little spot that is geared to a younger clientele although there were several guests older than ourselves. There wasn't a room available with three beds, so Donna and I shared a bunk-bed unit with shared bath. The compact layout was perfect for our needs (we didn't plan to spend a great deal of time in the hotel) and boasted a tiny in-room sink, clock radio/iPod docking station, and flat-screen TVs mounted to the wall beside each bunk. Ah, TV. Ah, cable. Nothing like watching Seinfeld re-runs in New York!

Here's a shot of Yuri and Donna at Rockefeller Centre.

The only disappointment of the trip came when Yuri developed a debilitating migraine and had to head back to Toronto after the first day in the Big Apple. The three of us did manage to do a few classic NY visitor must-dos, however, such as enjoying a pretzel from a street cart, enjoying time in Central Park, gawking at the high-end shops along Fifth Ave, and the like. I hadn't been to NY since 1990, so saw a lot of changes. Thankfully I managed to much of the touristy stuff on earlier visits - including taking in the view from the top of the World Trade Centre - so didn't feel any great need to rush around trying to fit a lot into a few short days. One very pleasant change since my last visit was the conversion of much of Times Square into a pedestrian-friendly area with lots of outdoor seating.

We also managed to take in a delightful Broadway show - for a mere $30/each.

A bit of personal trivia: Mary Poppins was the first movie I ever saw. The Sound of Music was the second. For quite some time I was convinced that Julie Andrews was the only actress in the world! A few years back, Donna and I attended the Sound of Music singalong dressed as brown-paper packages tied up with string (to be more accurate, our wrists were dressed as such). So it was fitting that Donna should be along when I reconnected with my inner Poppins. The musical was great fun. Lots of tunes not in the Disney movie. Fun sets, great effects, and good singing. I was especially impressed with the talents of the kids playing Jane and Michael Banks.

Since I had been to the Metropolitan Museum and the MOMA, I had little interest in repeating visits there especially since the exhibits were of any particular interest. We all managed to explore the Frick Collection before Yuri left. Donna and I also popped into the Guggenheim.

Did something of an architectural tour (on our own), taking time to view the Whitney, the Chrysler Bldg, Seagrams Bldg, Lever Bldg, and other notable structures. One day we met up with a landscape architect Donna knew. She took us to the Meatpacking District where an old elevated railway had been converted into a wonderful pedestrian walkway enhanced with extensive native planting that incorporated vestiges of the old railway structures. It's called the High Line.

One of the things the highlights of the trip for both Donna and me was spending several hours in Bryant Park. Much of the time was consumed with tackling the Thurs edition of the New York Times crossword puzzle, but we also did a lot of people watching and simply enjoying the park's vibe. There was a live music concert when we first arrived, followed by a massive outdoor yoga class. Folks nearby where we were sitting enjoyed an impromptu game of chess. It was a wonderful relaxing afternoon.

A stroll around Central Park was also very enjoyable.

Here's a lovely little bridge located near the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir.

Also had great fun poking around the Garment District. Managed to locate Habu Yarns which was on the 8th floor of a rather obscure little office building. I arrived on Sat not expecting to find it opened (thinking it was an office only) but - voila! - it was! Some great deals on unusual yarns such as silk covered stainless steel, and linen paper. When in Toronto, I thought Mokuba was the most amazing ribbon shop I had ever been in, but it paled in comparison to the Zagat-rated Hyman Hendler & Sons. Wish I could have figured out a way to transport some amazing hat forms that were sold in the millinary supply shop down the block - they would make great hats even without added fabric and trim. Found some very cool buttons at M&J Trimming. Lots of clothing and textile art inspiration at Barney's and other high-end shops on Madison and Fifth Ave as well as the trendy and off-beat shops in Greenwich Village, Soho, and Tribeca. 

Of course, no trip to New York would be complete without some palate pleasers. Enter the amazing array of street vendors - Vancouver, take note. Also tucked into some authentic New York Cheesecake at Magnolia Bakery (the famous cupcakes were in very short supply when we arrived after 10pm - did I mention that there was a line-up outside the door at that hour? No wonder as the treats were more than yummy.) The heat had me eating a lot of fresh fruit, purchased from corner grocers and street carts. We didn't bother to hit a fancy restaurant as, after 8+ hours of walking in high humidity, we were both ready for a toes-up at the Pod.

A very fun trip. But it is nice to be back home. I have some sleeping to catch up on.

Encouragement From Unexpected Source

Back in the spring, when I first learned my cancer had spread, I felt it prudent to inform my birth family of the situation in case the info is of use to them down the road. On Friday I learned my information has been passed on. I also received some medical history of my maternal birth family (nothing is known of my paternal birth family). As it turns out, there is a history of cancer in the family. Of my birth mother and her four siblings, at least three have had cancer (kidney, lung, or colon). The encouraging thing is that all of them are alive years after the diagnosis and treatment. That information has filled me with great hope in terms of my own situation. I also learned there is a history of heart disease. This is good to know since Herceptin (a drug I took last time and one of the drugs I am currently on) is very hard on the ol' ticker. My medical team will now know to keep a close watch on any changes in my heart health. One cool detail about my birth father - he was a navy man. How cool is that? Guess I was destined to be raised by a seadog in any case.

ECG results

As noted in an earlier post, I was recently sent to Lion's Gate Hospital for an ECG. The test (or alternatively a MUGA scan) is performed about every three months in order to gauge whether the chemo drugs I'm taking have done any damage to my heart. Regular readers of this blog will remember how amazed I was re the technology of the test - the closest thing I'll ever come to seeing an ultrasound of something inside of me. Well, turns out I not only have a heart but one that functions quite nicely, thank you very much. Yes sir, that's my baby!

Life Bites

... Literally. Actually as the accompanying photo illustrates, it is likely a spider or a tick that had a nibble near my knee. The bruising around the swollen red core is especially becoming, yes? The bite came yesterday, but I wasn't overly concerned until the bruising started to show up this afternoon. Beetled on over to see Dr. J who couldn't say for certain whether it was a spider or a tick that did the dirty deed. Given my compromised health situation, he opted for an antibiotic that would work in either case (as he said, I really don't want to add Lymne Disease to my increasing list of ailments - apparently this is something he saw several times while working in South Africa). So for the next two weeks, I will be enjoying some Doxycycline. Lovely shade of blue the pills are.

Dream Train

One of the more entertaining side effects of my drug regime is the effect it has on my dreams. Some night visions are downright bizarre, others so funny I find myself laughing as I climb out of slumber. Last night I had a very neat dream that I can only wish to be true. In the dream, I was catching the Skytrain via the Granville Street station which is located in the basement of The Bay in downtown Vancouver. When I stepped on board the train, however, I was surprised to find myself in a VIA railcar rather than the Skytrain. The next and every other stop was another VIA station which, handily enough, was also located in the basement of a Bay store but in a different city somewhere across Canada - some locations, like Woodstock, NB, are not even served by VIA or The Bay. I soon found that, if I got off at more than one stop, I could easily shop my way across the country in an afternoon. Better yet, I could step outside each Bay store to explore the surrounding area! Wouldn't that be a gas?! If nothing else, it would make visiting family and friends so much easier and less expensive. Perhaps I'll write to VIA officials suggesting they implement such a service.

Eeee! See G.

Despite the efforts of BC Ferries, I managed to get to my ECG appointment at Lion's Gate Hospital last Thursday. Momzy was to have joined Penny and me on the trip but opted out due to a scheduling conflict. Good thing as the one-hour+ we had planned to have for pre-ECG lunch vanished in a fog of frustration and ferry fatigue. Yes, I know it's summer and that ferry runs at this time of year are almost always an overload situation. However, I fail to understand how said tub can arrive at Langdale on time yet managed to depart more than 40 minutes late. But I digress.

You, gentle reader, may remember my last adventure at Lion's Gate Hospital. Without going into the gory (gooey?) details, suffice it to say that it involved one rogue container of yogurt. I had hoped to have enough time prior to the ECG appointment to casually glance at the ceiling of the radiology department to see if the offending pink ooze continued to drip or otherwise show itself, but time didn't allow for diversions.

Immediately upon my arrival, I was whisked into an examining room. The great thing about an ECG vs a MUGA scan is that there was no special prep for the procedure. No fasting. No slowing. No needle in. No needle out. As this was my first such exam, I was eager to see how my heart appeared "on camera". I was informed by the nice but humourless tech that I could most certainly watch the procedure as it was being informed. Then she had me lie on my side with my back to the monitor. I am not entirely certain she managed to capture all the necessary information because upon completion of the test she asked if I had any questions about what I had seen (I wasn't allowed to talk at all during the procedure). I pointed out that it was rather hard to view the monitor from the back of my head (although when I was teaching my students often swore I had eyes in the back of my head). That tidbit of information seemed to puzzle the tech, but she did offer to do a little show-and-tell for my entertainment. What I saw was amazing! I have never been blessed with children, so have never had cause to undergone an ultrasound of that sort before. The monitor gave an very clear view of my heart, with each of the four chambers showing up quite nicely. I could also make out the valves as they opened and closed as is their way. The tech also showed me a from-the-bottom-up view. Fascinating! I was so taken by the experience that I felt the need to share with the tech my musing re what it must be like for an expectant mother to catch the first glimpse of her child via that method. I could hear the wheels grinding in the tech's head as she tried to comprehend what I was driveling on about. Sadly, she didn't offer to take a screen shot - even after I said, in reference to my heart, "Yes sir, that's my baby!"

So, while I lack any form of photographic evidence with which to prove the point, it's nice to know that I have a heart. And it appeared (to my untrained eye at least) to be functioning just fine.

Wish I could say today's PAP test was as much fun. And, no, there will be no photos of that event either.

Under My Skin

Given that I've been at this cancer game for the better part of three years now, you'd think I would have it all figured out by now. How naive of me.

My skin has been changing a lot of late. The drugs cause me to bruise easily, contact dermatitis takes much longer to clear up. Also notice that my mole collection is drying up and some are flaking off. Asked my GP if this was a common side effect, and he seemed to think so. However, he doesn't like the look of a couple (large, dark, and irregular edges), so I have an appt with a surgeon to have them removed. Of course, they will undergo biopsies to ensure nothing unsavory is going on. That bit of news got me thinking. I haven't had a mammogram or a PAP test in over a year - figured I'm on chemo so neither would be necessary. GP was very concerned, and explained that while the chemo was controlling the known cancer, it might not be the right drug cocktail for attacking anything growing at other sites. The mammogram and PAP would help indicate whether the cancer was present in those sites. Sigh. On the up side, I don't have radiation burns any longer to make the mammogram any less pleasant than it already will be. And if something is detected, it can be dealt with before things get too far out of hand. Confess I'm getting a tad tired of being sick and tired.

Not a feller nor a Rocky, but...

Had an exciting day today. I've formally put in motion plans to realize a long-held dream - to help someone realize their own long-held dream. I trust the outcome of my humble effort will have more life-altering results than my dream-fulfillment gestures of the past (e.g. Donna's celebratory motorcycle ride). The really exciting part is I have no idea who will be touched by today's events.

What I've done is establish an educational endowment at SFU. No, I don't have the resources of a Rockerfeller or a Gates, but I've recently learned there is a way to give more upon my passing than I could ever afford to give during my lifetime. All I had to do was include the name of my chosen charity/charities as benefactor(s) of my life insurance policy.

I decided to focus this gift on a single parent entering SFU's Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, the same faculty that awarded me a BA in '87 (English major/Education minor). Why a single parent? Well, I was never blessed with children of my own and, if I had (given my less-than-stellar track record for picking potential partners) there is a very good chance I would have ended up a single parent myself. In addition, there were enough single parents among fellow students throughout my post-secondary studies to draw my attention to the unique difficulties many of them face. Interesting that most other awards established for single parents studying at SFU are for those in third or fourth year studies - next to nothing is available for those embarking on their academic journey. Makes getting through those first two years even harder.)

The way my endowment has been set up, awards will be drawn from the interest paid on the donated gift (which the SFU awards committee will invest on my behalf in perpetuity). This means that more than one student entering the university in more than one year can benefit from the donation. None of my friends or family members need bother themselves with the administration of the award as the university takes care of that, too. Of course, if anyone wishes to add to the fund once it's operating (which will happen once my will is settled and the insurance policy paid out) they would be more than welcome to do so.

I have some ideas re what to do with the rest of the insurance funds, but those plans aren't as well developed or worked through as this one. More about all that in the days, weeks, months (years?) to come.

One of the advantages of knowing my time in this life is limited is taking the opportunity to determine what sort of legacy I want to leave behind.

Under the Microscope

T'will be a different sort of day re the ol' chemo program. I "donated" my blood as usual yesterday, but the lab forgot to check my white cell count so I have to provide another sample before getting chemo. Oh joy, more needles! I don't blame the lab staff. The hospital has implemented a new patient/chart tracking system and everyone is having to cope with a rather steep learning curve. On top of that, the other patients waiting for attention from the lab staff yesterday were generally in very surly moods - there was even one hospital board member who thought she could jump the cue because she didn't have breakfast before visiting the lab! Another poor dear felt she would be given speedier service because she was trying to catch the ferry. Kick me if I ever feel such a sense of entitlement. Of course, I have cause to be so smug and self-righteous. I wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, and I had brought along my knitting. Today's lesson: never go anywhere without something to read or knit/crochet or spin (if you happen to prefer a wee drop spindle). But enough of the holier than thou attitude.  The vampires await. Sign me, Pokey.

Out with the old

The night before last I entered a new energized phase. I know this because I found myself staring at the clock every 1/2 hr to 1 hour for no apparent reason. Tried reading, warm milk, different pillows, light exercises ... Nothing seemed to help. Finally ventured out of bed at 7am yesterday and didn't need to return to bed until 11pm last night. Finding lots to do to keep me busy during the daylight hours. For example, I finally got 'round to doing some much overdue mending, cleaned out the sewing area at the back of my laundry room (I can actually use my sewing machine now that I have liberated it from a stack of abandoned projects, workshop samples, and ephemera), and tossed expired medications and other crap from the bathroom. I'm sure my heirs will appreciate not having to deal with all the flotsam of my little life. In the meantime, I can enjoy my space so much more and can actually find what I want when I want it. What a concept. Today's project: picking trailing blackberries for jam. If there are enough blackcurrants, they'll be batch number two. On the other hand, I see a refreshing nap in my near future. Z is fast becoming my favourite letter of the alphabet.

Whale of a Weekend

Still catching up on sleep after an action-packed weekend. Should be refreshed just in time to experience the aftermath of tomorrow's chemo. Oh joy.

Thrills started on Thurs evening with the arrival of my friend Trudy who is currently residing in Sweden. We got together for the first time on Fri when we took Mom to the fish truck in Davis Bay for lunch. As we were waiting for our order to be prepared, someone noticed two grey whales cavorting just off shore. At first everyone thought they must have beached, but we soon realized they were simply enjoying a good lunch of their own. It appeared to be an older whale and a calf. When they were first spotted, they were rolling around the water, frequently bringing their massive heads above the surface. Later, they swam the length of the beach, gently gliding along with the occasional blast from their blowholes. We must have watched them for the better part of an hour. When we were ready to leave, I couldn't get the Grape into the lane heading home due to the heavy traffic - I had to drive to the Canadian Tire in Wilson Creek before I could turn around. Seemed everyone and his/her dog was coming out to see the whales. There wasn't a parking space to be had - not even an illegal one - anywhere along the Davis Bay beach front. Traffic was backed up in both directions. The fish truck operator joked as we were leaving that he would have to increase his prices to take the "entertainment" factor into account.

On Saturday, we all headed to the farmers' market. Saeko came up from Richmond to join us for the rest of the weekend, so she came along, too. In addition to the usual market attractions, Trudy, Saeko and I enjoyed a visit to the local museum where a group of people were learning how to weave cedar hats. Very interesting. On Sunday we took in a concert at Willow Tree Farm. Musicians included Wendy Humphreys on harp, followed by a performance by Eileen McCann and David G. Aside from a few brief sprinkles, the weather was perfect. Mom, Marcia, Penny and Jon also came to the concert, so it was a fun time for all. Of course, we all gathered at the farm on Sat and Sun evening for group feasting. All in all a fun time.

Pea Sandwich

Gentle readers, and all other interested parties: Just a note to let you know that I am continuing on the current chemo regime for the foreseeable future. Some of you asked if the positive CT scan results meant that it was no longer needed. Yes, it is still very much needed. I will attended St Mary's ACU every week for the same two meds as I have been taking since April. The amount of drug has been reduced not due to the CT scan results but rather a reduction in my weight (woohoo!) since starting treatment and the reduction in my white blood cell count which is a side effect of any chemo treatment. How long will I be on said drugs? The short answer: it depends. Long answer: until the drugs no longer work (there is visible evidence the cancer is growing), or until I develop a resistance or an allergy/other dangerous side effect to them. Right now, my main issue is fatigue. Yes, I have great spurts of energy, but I'm also entering another phase marked by regular bouts of fatigue - when I'm tired, I can do nothing but sleep (especially on Wed after chemo and on Thurs). Fingers continue to cramp at the oddest of times, but no recent issues re my feet (i.e. no more gout) other than the occasional bit of tingling or mild cramp in the arch. The most annoying side effect, however, is the recurring aching in my right forearm. This is the area that has been subjected to the most needles, both for blood tests and for IVs during various surgeries and when the port-a-cath failed to co-operate. Sometimes the aching is very mild, other times very deep. Sometimes it is confined to the thick part of the forearm near the elbow, other times it extends from finger tips to elbow tip, and occasionally continues up to the shoulder. I strongly suspect some degree of tennis elbow/carpel tunnel is also at play. Whatever, last night the arching was enough to wake me at 3am. Tylenol doesn't cut it for that type of pain (I have few alternatives due to the chemo drugs), so the ice plan cameth. Cometh? Came? Despite the fact that my first aid training ended as abruptly as my Girl Guide career, I seem to recall that cold helps reduce inflammation. And so it was that my relief solution reconnoitering brought me face-to-face with a freezer completely void of any form of ice-like substance. Somehow the tuna loin recently purchased at the Sechelt Farmers' Market didn't look quite up to the task at hand/arm. Nor did the lobster, the last edible vestige of my pilgrimage to the lands of the east. Ice cream presented an interesting possibility, but since I have long known of my inability to easily lick either elbow, that, too, seemed a less-than appropriate solution. Then it dawned on me; peas! Yes, the very same vegetable that put a certain Vancouver waiter and I in a rather awkward situation when I had my original biopsy two years ago. The very tiny green round morsels of succulent sweetness that send shivers down the brain stems of some (Jo? John?) while exciting the taste buds of others. A pea sandwich was just what I needed! With the aid of a towel, I placed my arm between two frozen slabs of green peas. The towel acted as a drip barrier lest someone (Mother?) think I wet the bed. It also served to keep the icy blocks positioned where I needed them the most. My long-sleeved T-shirt cum pj top served as a barrier between the peas and my bare arm. No desire for freezer burn if I happened to fall asleep mid-treatment. Worked like a charm, albeit not the most comfortable one. In any case, I awoke in the a of m with a much relieved forearm - and two fewer packs of peas in the freezer.

About the concept of a REAL pea sandwich. Some foreign menus, in an effort to provide English descriptions for the convenience of out-of-town guests, create more interesting meals in the minds of some than what might otherwise be presented on the plate. Witness some of the concoctions listed in the book "Lost in Translation" by Charlie Croker (thanks to Deidre for the hours of entertainment this has provided):

Half a lawyer with prawns (Switzerland)
Pee soup (Beijing)
Goulash two cats (Marianske Lazne, Czech Republic)
Depressed soup (Russia)

Ham sand witches (India)
Homelettes (Greece)
Stewed language in assorted prinkles (Spain)
Charcoal grilled chicken wings or fried in garlic source (London)
Crap meat omelet (Thailand)
Eggs with Beacons (Costa Rica)
Bowels with organ blight (Greece)
Bored meat stew (Slovenia)
Chicken tikka masala with free rice or nun (UK)
Corrugated iron beef (Beijing)
Bowels stuffed in spleen (Piraeus)
Lame kebab (Iran)
Instantaneous steak ('minute steak' on a 1960s menu in Mozambique)
Roast mammary glad of sheep (Bulgaria)
Mixed grill with lamb cubs (London)

Rumba! Rumba! Rumba!

Time for me to pay closer attention to those "how-to" videos on YouTube, the ones where professional instructors go over the steps of various dance routines. As I said in my previous post, I may have reason to learn the rumba - AND I DO!!!

At long last I have received the result of last week's CT scan. Maybe I should have titled this post "The Cat Came Back". Hmmm. Anyhoo, that I received the news today was something of a surprise. You see, after attending Mom's condo AGM last night, I arrived home to find a message from Dr Wadge on my answering service. Part of the message was cut off (incoming call?) so I only heard "improved ... so that's good news". Anxious to learn the rest of the info, I tried to contact Dr Wadge today when I went to the hospital for my weekly pre-chemo blood work/weigh-in. She was unavailable, but passed the message along that the news was indeed good and she would explain further when she next saw me - which I took to be tomorrow during my weekly chemo treatment. Sooooo, imagine my surprise when, later in the day, I had an appointment with my GP (Dr J) re the ongoing issue of eczema in my ears and was given a copy of the very report Dr Wadge was talking about.

Like Dr Wadge, Dr J had received the CT scan results last night but since he wasn't in his office he didn't have access to my phone number so couldn't call. He said he was pleased to learn upon arriving at the office today that I had an appointment for this afternoon, so he could deliver the report results in person. He couldn't stop smiling while telling me this, so I knew it was good news. But I had no idea just how good the results were until he handed me a copy of the report.

This report compared the CT scan taken on March 1 (the date when in hospital I was told the cancer had spread to my lungs and spleen) with the one taken last Monday. Here is the short version of the results of that "study":

The study suggests significant improvement in terms of the pulmonary and presumed splenic metastases. In each case the number of metastatic sites appears to have diminished with the remaining metastatic sites smaller than on the previous examination. There are no new findings to suggest extension of the disease. In other words, there are fewer cancer sites on both lungs and on the spleen compared to the March 1 CT scan! The remaining sites have shrunk, and there is no evidence that the cancer has spread into my liver, kidneys, or anywhere else.

Funny that it seemed easier to take in the news that I had cancer in the first place than to learn that it is showing signs of being driven out of my body. I am still trying to grasp the fact that the news is so very good. No doubt this is the sort of thing cancer specialists see/hear every day, but for me it is nothing short of a miracle. Yes, the chemo worked, and worked well. More over, so did the tremendous power of all those prayers, healing energies, and good wishes sent by so many near and far. My medical team rocks! My family and friends are the best in the world! My God, but I have been so very, very blessed.

An interesting aside: The closing blessing at Sunday's church service was made in honour of National Aboriginal Day. The wording of the blessing (sorry, I don't know the original source) is remarkably close to the prayer/blessing that Alice read when presenting me with the family prayer quilt a couple of weeks back. The beginning is also similar to the hymn I mentioned a few postings back, the one that I expect everyone to sing at my funeral as they gyrate to the accompanying actions. This journey I'm on seems to be very much about love, about finding the links between my physical, mental, and spiritual self. Sunday's blessing underscored a lot of that, in my mind at least.

God is before us.
God is behind us.
God is above us.
God is below us.
God's words shall come from our mouths
For we are all God's essence, a sign of God's love.
All is finished in beauty.
All is finished in beauty.
May the Creator watch over you.
May the Spirit guide and lead you.
May Jesus be present in all that you do.
And the blessing of God Almighty,
the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit be with you,
within you and surrounding you and those you love,
this day and always.

Happy solstice!

Despite the fact that the Sunshine Coast will fail to live up to its name this summer solstice, there remain some very sunny spots in my little life. Family, friends, and the garden. Increasingly find therapy in tending the plants, especially in this year of climate-related challenges. Nothing cures a bad mood as well as ripping weeds out by their roots, nor calms the mind like coaxing a sick plant back to health. Although the veggies are struggling, the flowers are putting on a bit of a show - some anyway. Thought I'd share some of the colour as a way to send you all warm greetings on this longest day of the year (and a happy birthday wish to Jill, and enjoyable bbq wishes to Dave, Stephanie, George and Merrily - sorry I can't join you due to prior commitments).

Forgot to mention that a robin has, once again, taken up residence in the camellia bush next to my front door. I can easily see the nest as I come and go. Thankfully, the crows haven't been successful in their attempts to also get a closer look. A rare treat to be able to watch the wee ones at such close range. Hope the neighbourhood cats don't get wind of the nest's whereabouts.

Missing cat

Okay, so the cat isn't really missing. In fact, I don't own a feline, wayward or otherwise. I did, however, think the title of this entry much more interesting than, say, "Gosh but I wish I had some word re that CT scan I had last week". One might think that, since the CT scan was performed at St. Mary's, the location of my chemo injections, there would be speedy delivery of the test results. I have learned over the past couple of years that nothing moves quickly in the medical system. Each process entails many steps, several of which go undetected by the average patient. I tend to compare the complicated manoeuvers of the medical system to a deftly performed rumba when compared to my less-than-stellar rendition of the funky chicken. The former requires so much more than exact steps executed on specific beats of the accompanying music. Hands, hips, and even the head of the professional dancer gyrate with a dexterity not found anywhere in the unco-ordinated flaying of my assorted elbows and knees. The complex movements of the rumba routine are smoothly and seamlessly carried out - miss a step, and the whole becomes akin to Evander Holyfield's effort rather than the steamy show put on by professional Derek Hough (or his sister Julianne). In the case of my wayward medical test results, once the scan was performed, the results had to be read by the radiologist. That report was then sent to be transcribed into a written form that was passed on to the person (Dr Wadge - the internist overseeing my chemo, Dr Sun - the oncologist at BC Cancer Agency, Dr J - my Sechelt GP, Dr Zapf-Giljie - my Vancouver GP or whoever) deemed most appropriate to give me the results. There are likely other factors unknown/unseen by me or others in the queue. The upshot is that results weren't in anyone's hands by the time I had chemo last Wed. With luck, I will have them by this Wed's treatment. In the meantime, I'm willing to wallow in the theory that no news is good news. If that is the case, please understand if I spontaneously break into a full-on rumba. If good news isn't on offer, I'll likely still have time to add some finesse to my unique version of the funky chicken. Either way, I'll post the results as soon as I have them. Promise.

Comfy Cozy

Headaches continue to plague me as does fatigue. Sleep patterns somewhat out of whack. Bizarre fluctuations in barometric pressure may be part of the issue. Or it's just another part of the never-a-dull-moment chemo cycle. No matter. Should I require a nap or two or six, I can always snuggle down with a cozy blanket. I have been the recipient of two amazing blankies in the last couple of weeks (I had hoped to post pictures earlier, but couldn't seem to get my camera to work. Still not overly pleased with the lighting, but after adjusting a couple of settings the camera seems to be working once more. Apologies to the artisans for the poor image quality). They were made with an unbelievable amount of love and care, and I can feel the healing energy of the makers through each and every thread.

The first blanket traveled all the way from New Brunswick. I'm not certain who started the quilt (Alice?) but it contains a lot of symbolism that is very close to my heart. For example, the three fabrics represent the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The "ladder" motif is the stairway to Heaven. On the reverse side, the Holy Spirit fabric (the dragonflies) form a cross to remind me of God's constant love. When Alice and Louise presented me with the quilt, I was told there is a prayer/poem that goes along with it as this is very much a prayer quilt. Interestingly, while I don't remember the exact words of the prayer, I do remember that it is almost identical to a hymn that means a great deal to me (one that I want sung at my funeral with everyone in attendance doing the actions - really). It goes something like this: "Love before me, love behind me, love under my feet. Love within me, love over me. All around let there be love." To underscore the love aspect of the quilt, each of those little blue knots was tied by a different member of my extended family - may doing their tying at a dinner gathering while I sat unaware of the goings-on in the adjacent room! The knots on the border of the quilt were, however, reserved for my mother so I will always know that I'm surrounded by my mother's boundless love. How cool is that?!? To Alice, Louise, Bruce, Susan, Mary, Melissa, Jacqualine, Phil, Ellen, Ritchie, Cindy, Rielly, Mom and everyone else involved a heartfelt thank you. I love you all very, very much. What a treasure. A definite heirloom. Here's a photo of the quilt:

A couple of days after the quilt presentation, I attended the Sunshine Coast Weavers and Spinners Guild's June meeting. In addition to the usual potluck (swear fibre folks are the best cooks) we had our annual "exchange". This year's project was some sort of hand-warming apparel. Some members made gloves, others wrist-warmers. Mine was a gorgeous pair of mittens and a matching hat crafted by Marjorie Ann Malcolm. The super-soft gold/green/beige yarn was hand-spun and then knit in a spiral pattern. I'd be happy to show a photo, but all the items were whisked away as they were opened - will be part of a guild display during the Gibsons Fibre Fest in August. What I can offer is a photo of the mittens I made for one Deanna Pilling. Here are the mitts I knitted from yarn I dyed some years back:

It was extremely interesting that Deanna should have been the recipient of my mittens because during the "show and tell" portion of the meeting, she stood up to talk about her latest blanket project and then handed me the blanket! Deanna has started a blanket weaving business with input from a couple of other guild members. Most work is inspired by the sea, forest, and other aspects of the local environment. My blanket, however, is "inspired by the women we know who are fighting the good fight", as Deanna said during her presentation. You could have knocked me over with a feather when she made the presentation! I had no idea the blanket was for me. And what a delight it is. My apologies if I have the info wrong - I was so taken aback by the generous gift that I started crying and could only concentrate on keeping my nose from running! If I do have the facts right, Ann Harmer used mushrooms to dye the wool a soft mauve-pink. Yvonne Stowell spun the 100% Sunshine Coast wool, and then Deanna wove it into a cozy twill blanket. The design is called "Group Hug", and I feel that loving comfort every time I touch it! Many, many thanks to all of you for the wonderful gift!

To say that I am blessed is an understatement. I have no idea what I have done to deserve such outpourings of love and support. I am truly overwhelmed, humbled, and most grateful. And I love you all very, very much.

Sleepy days again

Guess I'm hitting a "new normal". Despite continued bouts of good energy, I have long periods of fatigue once more. Likely this is the way things will be for some time. Either that, or I'm playing too much. Suffice it to say that I feel very much myself, but then again not quite. Kinda like this:

Yes, the hair really is mine. Remnants of what fell out two years ago during original chemo treatments. The eyelashes, however, were purchased at the local drug store. The rest? Cobbled together from eight different photos of moi. And while I have lost about 25+ lbs since Christmas, I cannot claim to be that skinny.

Scanned by a cat

Yesterday I had the much-anticipated CT scan. A somewhat uneventful event although I did feel a tad odd just before getting onto the scanning table - not faint, not ill, but not quite "normal". I told someone that it felt like I imagine I would as an out-of-body experience was getting underway. Not that I've ever had an out-of-body experience. Did feel like I was both in and out of my body at the same time. I blame rogue ions that might have been floating about the room (my conspiracy theory). That or the fact that I hadn't eaten for the better part of 12 hours and was wallowing in the wake of several glasses of water. I swear you could hear the sea sloshing around in my tummy! The water was to aid the flow of iodine which was injected just before the scan. This provided the necessary "contrast" for the x-ray. The injection caused a slight warming feeling to flow through my body. The tech warned me that some patients are certain they've urinated all over the machine but assured me it would only be the effect of the injection. I felt no such sensation, likely because I had the foresight to visit the powder room prior to showing up for the exam. The exam itself was pleasant enough, especially once the warming effect set in. A comforting mechanical voice instructed me how and when to breath: "Breath in. Hold your breath. Breath." I also noted that the exterior of the machine had friendly little images of a cartoon-like face that mimed the mechanical voice's instructions. When I was able to breath, an picture that looked like a cross between Pac-Man and Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame) would light up. When I was to hold my breath, a picture of the same face but with closed mouth and puffy cheeks lit up. All in all, a very quick and not unpleasant procedure. My doctor should receive the results by week's end. I'll post the outcome once I hear how things went.