Category Archives: facingcancer.ca

Mirror Ball 2012 at the Royal York!

12 Nov

We are back in Ottawa after an awesome weekend in Toronto, celebrating Mirror Ball 2012 and Look Good Feel Better’s 20th anniversary. I feel 100% lucky to be connected to Facing Cancer Together, not only because I’ve lived its benefits firsthand, but because the people who pour their efforts into making this website, support programs, emotional cheer leading, warm-hearted community, yearly magazine, bloggers’ stories, and forum conversations all WORK (take a deep breath now if you are reading this aloud for some reason) are even more fabulous than this past weekend’s ball.

So yes, it was my honour to attend the CCTFA’s annual fundraiser gala for Look Good Feel Better and Facing Cancer Together.

I could write all about it, (Like how Dionne Warner gave a moving speech about moving through 8 cancer diagnoses with the love and support of her husband, Graham; and how Don (Riding Shotgun) in his dapper bow tie stood up before the entire audience and shared his story of how the Fc.ca support has touched his life, and thanked the room for their amazing contributions; or how the beautiful lady who once presented me with a 20th anniversary LGFB Movado watch during the Facing Cancer Together Award of Honour presentation (Take another deep breath!) came by my table toward the evening’s close and said she was a fan of Bumpyboobs! She even knew about the cockroaches! – Or how I stayed at a friend’s place for the weekend, and was charmed by a Toronto area called ‘Cabbagetown’.)

Instead of all that, I’ll direct you to the photo gallery on my Bumpyboobs Facebook page. The photographs speak for themselves, it was a wonderful event (please feel free to ‘like’ the page while you are there!)

Thank you again to everyone who contributes to making FacingCancer.ca and LGFB work, from the donors, the organizers, the volunteers, the women and those who love them gathering on the page to give and receive support, and the behind the scenes team – THANK YOU. You are all an important part of this community.

Posted in cancer community, facingcancer.ca, finding support | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Lost on a train of thoughts – four confessions

11 Aug

We are on the train now headed toward Pecs and leaving Balaton. For the past four days Zsolt and I have been enjoying a little lakeside R&R. Before that it was sweating in Budapest and late-night dance parties. I’ll tell you what. If you want to take a break from the cancer world because sometimes it becomes too overwhelming, there’s little better than going out to dance. One – you are in a state to not feel embarrassed since you know life is precious, and Two- it’s just a freaking fabulous workout.

So that was Budapest. Hot-hot days and comfortable nights in outdoor clubs. And work, of course, which happily follows me wherever there’s an internet connection.

But following this time away in Budapest, I have three little confessions to make . . . actually four – the last being less of a confession and more of a statement.

Number one: I burned the crap out of Zsolt’s mother’s pot here in Balaton. For the past couple weeks I have been in the mood to make tomatoe sauce with meatballs, particularly following this TED talk I watched about foods that kill cancer (Yay! Following this sort of diet gives me some sense of control in my efforts to kill cancer and keep it dead. Do you find similar reassurance?) and – once again – was reminded that tomatoes warmed up are really great for an anti-cancer diet. Therefore I bought some liquid tomato and a can of chopped tomato while in Budapest and brought them down to Balaton. (No one in Budapest seemed to really want my tomato sauce and meatballs.  That’s because it’s just not part of a traditional Hungarian diet. However, Zsolt and I had some ‘alone time’ scheduled for the Balaton part of our travelling, so I deferred the cooking of the sauce until we arrived in Fonyod Ligit, which is a little village along the Balaton coast. And thank goodness I did.) Anyhow, I had the sauce cooking for a nice long time, made the meatballs in the frying pan then later transferred those into the sauce, and cooked everything together with delicious results.

So we’re eating this amazing sauce & meatball meal – and we’re (Zsolt and I) are like, “This is awesome. What’s that flavour? I don’t know what that flavour is? What did you put in it? I only put onions and basil and the meatballs. Maybe it’s from the meatballs? I did sear them pretty good, maybe it’s from the meatballs?”

Wrong. That awesome flavour was from the blackened bottom of that sauce pot. It took me two days to discover the burn and by then it was so set into the freaking pot that I’ve been trying to scrub it clean for the past day and a night. Sugar scrubbed into the dark ring has helped (using a newspaper) but not totally cleared away the mess. We had to catch this train, so I’ve stashed the pot in a far corner beneath the sink hoping that when his mother does discover the burnt patch remaining – because she 100% will discover it, and then she will ask: ‘Why did Catherine burn the pot?’ as though I had plotted to do this (and with the real answer being that I burn essentially every pot that I encounter while cooking)  . . . hopefully, by this time this happens, I’ll be well out of the country.

Not that she would get angry, but being asked ‘why’ I did something that I really couldn’t help is a pet-peeve of mine, and tends to send me into a sarcastic fit of annoyance  – replying with things like, “I burnt the pot because it was looking at me funny.” Or “I burnt the pot to add to the flavour” (apparently true in this case ) Or “I burnt the damn pot because I purposely wanted to damage it.”

Truth is, I’m just absent minded. Which brings me to the second confession.

Number Two – I lost my glasses! Bah. Gone! Poof. Where are they? If I knew that, they wouldn’t be lost. But one thing is for sure, they aren’t in my luggage and that’s all I’m taking away from Balaton right now as we head toward Pecs. Glasses equal gone. We’re about to visit all these awesome places, and I’m stuck with my prescription shades. But at least I have those – even if it means walking around the house, mall, and movie theatre like a hung-over starlet with these dramatic black sunglasses.

Number Three – I broke my father-in-law’s air mattress! Again, by the time he discovers this I am hoping to be out of the country.

Some people report chemo brain after having gone through chemotherapy – it’s a very real problem that seems to creep up and then simply not go away; your ability to remember things is greatly affected. If you want to learn more about chemo brain you should check out AnneMarie’s blog – aptly titled, “chemobrain” and just google search the term in general. I think this is one of the side effects they don’t necessarily warn you about (in addition to the one about chemo possibly killing your sex life) before you sign that waver and agree to the treatment course.

However, in my case, I can only blame it on genetics. Absentmindedness has been my middle name (a really long middle name) since I can remember.

So if you ever want to ask me why I dropped that tissue and didn’t pick it up, or why I left the light on, or why the front door is open a tiny bit . . . don’t bother, because I won’t tell you the real answer. Instead I’ll say aliens forced me to discard the tissue as an experiment in entropy, or the light turned itself on and we may have a poltergeist, or the wind knocked at the door but no one answered and so it let itself in.

Number Four – I really did have a lovely time in Balaton. The allergies weren’t horrible. The water was warm. I napped with my husband. We watched the Olympics. I did a little work. And the sunsets were beautiful. These little worries and expense-causing mistakes seem to follow me around everywhere . . . but nevertheless, I was quite absentmindedly happy to be on a mini-vacation, and forget, just for a little while, about the bigger worries of life.

P.S. I’m sipping on a pear-flavoured beer while riding this Hungarian train. Take that Canada! I’m drinking in public! Wooohooo! Life is just so crazy sometimes.  :)

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Where do you draw your line? Getting honest online.

14 Apr

It’s a funny thing to write a blog – particularly a blog that contains your real name and discusses real circumstances. It’s tricky because firstly, who is reading your public memoir? Secondly, should you be spilling your guts to this virtual world? And thirdly, at what point do you draw the line in terms of sharing information?

Actually, these are great questions for being online in general. When you go onto Facebook – do you post updates on hair re-growth, have you switched your status to: “cancer fighter?”  What about on this forum – should you post a picture or use your real name?

This week Riding Shot Gun and Both Sides posted some frank writing about hard topics – and I know they held reservations about being so open with their readers. As Riding Shot Gun questioned, how wide should we open the kimono?

Well in my case, I’ve opened my kimono pretty darn tootin’ wide. But there’s a reason for that, and it’s largely about you.

(And partially because I can’t keep my virtual mouth shut)

This is how I see things: we go online because there are times when we need to shout our feelings, and that calls for a different sort of support. It’s not anyone’s fault. Despite loving us, sometimes others can’t cope or simply haven’t walked in these specific shoes of life (thank goodness). So we come here to places like FacingCancer.ca to vent and ask questions from people who have worn the same shoes.

Also, when it comes to venting and asking questions, the beauty of being online is that you can read quietly, you can register a false name or, alternatively, you can post a photo of your beautiful self and forget the alias. Either way, you get supported. Isn’t that kinda liberating?

And then – for me – one of the biggest reasons I’ve discussed topics like sexuality, loss of loved ones, and fertiliy struggles with this online community (plus so much more) is because you are real, and we all really experiencing these issues.  Doesn’t matter if you lurk, doesn’t matter if your username is ‘hotpotatoe65’, doesn’t matter  . . . because you are a real person, and you’re here because we’re all dealing with a very real problem.

So when you go on the forum and write that hard question that’s almost too painful to admit beyond your own head (and that warm, inviting keyboard), or you post an article that almost crosses the line in terms of its honesty toward the emotions and difficulties of the situations . . .

. . . and you’re quite ready to delete the post or erase the message. Just take a moment to remember that beyond the usernames we’re people who have been there, worn the same shoes, and have the greatest compassion toward your story.

That’s what I tell myself before hitting the ‘publish’ button on my rawest of posts.

We all have our line in the sand. Mine generally involves not divulging too much information that involves other people’s problems (even if they are mixed with mine, with the exception of the sexuality post).

As someone who looks online for community (and you must be, otherwise how did you come to read this post?) – what’s your line in the sand? And have you ever told a hard story online, only to realize that soooo many people relate?

This post is terribly reflective. But it’s been on my mind, and now it’s out I can get on with my day. Speaking of which, it’s Friday the 13th here and I’m at a B&B named Kirkman House in Arnprior, Ontario – it was built before 1900 by the local lumber baron, and this room is totally gorgeous!  If you live in Ottawa (though I realize readers are worldwide) – get yourself to Arnprior. You can eat Wes’ chips by the waterfront, rent a canoe, enjoy a truck stop breakfast, and take a walk in an old growth forest.

Lovely bunch of loveliness.

And now, if you don’t mind, I’ll depart. My husband just arrived back home yesterday, and we have some work to catch up on . . .

Posted in cancer, facingcancer.ca, finding support, healing, life after cancer | Tagged , , , , | 9 Comments

Tax returns gone wild! (i.e. I haven’t got a clue)

30 Mar

This week has been a head-spinner. It’s been a week where I’ve had to remind myself the golden lesson that cancer has the instant ability to teach: just lay off the stress, girl.  Relax, sister. Of course it took me a while to remember this valuable lesson, since I was head-deep in my ‘what the frack’ mode .  . . but practise makes perfect, and eventually I gave up my load. You know what that’s like? Sometimes stepping away from a problem feels like an impossible option . . .  so then how do you make the impossible possible?

In the meanwhile, great things have been happening. Over the past couple weeks I’ve had a photo shooting adventure, finished my eighth out of nine stories for my lovely creative project, blogged for this great start-up company (and wrote the posts well, if I can say so myself), and largely became used to being alone. In fact, I started relishing my walks to the cafe. Alone Catherine is a productive Catherine.

But!

Then I tried to do my taxes, again, and my head spun off into the atmosphere. You see, last year I earned a modest amount of freelancing income. Yay! But at the same time . . . how the heck do I prepare my taxes as a ‘small business –other’?  Apart from the wonderful discovery that expenses equal deductions (cue me combing my past visa bill and sourcing receipts online. Oh my goodness, did I really spend that much on my writing . . .yes, apparently I did), this tax season has my brain sizzling with anxiety.

Zsolt and I were in disagreement over getting an accountant. He wanted to save the money, I wanted to save the headache – but when push came to shove, and my meltdown alarms were ringing with the complications of my situation, we found ourselves a compromise (with the guidance of my parents, and considering the money saved from all those expenses I dug up). I guess we all move beyond times when we cannot find solutions, it’s just that limbo between problem and answer that gets me all stressed and stupid.

Whew.

But you know what? Even after agreeing on a compromise, the stress was still resonating through me! Like after-effects of an earthquake – my mental health was having after quakes: nerves and emotions totally unstable.

Which is when I remembered the blog post I’d written not so long ago, and thought, “yes, what a good idea,” and decided to do something to counteract that stress. Basically, I returned not to my writing (though this is lovely) and not to my conversations, but opened my Bonusprint program and began picking through pictures of our Greece vacation, making a photo book for the company to print.

Ah, the loveliness of creativity coupled with happy memories. And as I indulged in something that made me feel good – a creative project that had nothing to do with taxes, work, or obligation (and yet wasn’t television, cause while that’s entertaining it doesn’t change my mood) I began to feel more and more like myself.

I have a two-for-one deal with the Bonusprint people, so today I’m going to make a second photo book: the summer of 2011. It was a pretty freaking glorious summer, even if the winter involved a lot of catching up . . . and so why not? Right?

Sometimes when you’ve dipped your head in the pool of stress, and even after you’ve found a solution  to that problem . . . sometimes you still need to recover yourself. Heck, we all know about that! Having gone through treatment, there’s still tons of healing required.

So there you go, photo-booking and it feels soooo good.

P.S. The above beautiful photo was shared by Jason Kang on Totem Brand Stories‘ facebook wall, and was snapped by the talented Donna Griffith at last week’s Lives Affected by Cancer shoot. This was before the return of winter, where Chantal and I look optomistic in our spring dresses!

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Photoshooting for Lives Affected by Cancer

22 Mar

Okay, I’m here at my cafe and ready to write. The weather outside is bizarrely fine considering it’s still March, and I’m dressed in an outfit that my husband would 100% hate (I look like a neon pink hippie). So, the time has come to relive yesterday in the written form, and it involves owl eyes, bright yellow dresses, and throwing flowers in the air.

Doesn’t that sounds quite idyllic. Actually it was a photo shoot in Toronto (not exactly idyllic, but still good fun) for the Look Good Feel Better 20th anniversary magazine, Lives Affected by Cancer. As mentioned, I’ve written an article for the issue that dips into the impact of cancer and treatment on a couple’s love life, which is huge, freaking huge, and ripples out into everything, then ripples back in upon itself . . . like some freaking never ending cycle of crabbiness and – !!!! A man in the cafe just unleashed a hurricane from his mouth – Where was I? Oh, it’s a difficult situation that hardly ever gets discussed. So we’re discussing it.

And it’s a tricky concept to photograph as well. But wisely the art direction choose to work with the idea of flowers and lightness – and hey, how brilliant? While sex is SEX (Wohoo!), it’s also sweetness, gentleness and romance. Flowers are very appropriate.

So yesterday morning I go up way too early and joined the art director (I so want to say his name, but lately I’m not really sure if I’m able. Am I able?) as we took a cab across Toronto and arrived at the studio. We initially arrived at the wrong studio, a few buildings down and only realized this upon knocking on the wrong apartment door, which sheds some light on how tired we felt.

But eventually we made it.

Unlike the first photo shoot for Glow, this place had a completely different vibe. Firstly, it was empty except for the photographer and her assistant. Secondly, it was a huge space. Big windows and 30 foot ceilings, white painted everything and pillars so large I couldn’t wrap my arms around them. Why, why, why don’t they make these buildings anymore? It was magnificent.

People began to trickle in. And in. And in. Seems to me these photo shoots are highly complex – not to mention the editing and planning of a magazine. The magazine designer was explaining how much work went into the project, and it sounds nearly endless. No wonder every little job needs to be considered, and it’s incredible to watch them integrate their roles like clockwork.

So we stared with makeup and a lovely man helped me look natural, fresh and beautiful. He took the curlers to my lashes and gave them a good pinching (during which I was frozen – mannequin like), then added mascara and a tiny bit of shadow at the edges of my eyes. Sexy! Yet sweet. Way more make emphasis than I’d ever dare to use, but the result was striking.

And then came the dress. Think of something from the 1960s that a woman would wear to lunch out with the girls . . . think lemon drops and traces of white flowers . . . think about Jackie Onassis and Audrey Hepburn. That was my dress.  (It was too large so they clipped it at the back, and I wore my hiking socks since they weren’t photographing my full body. Ridiculous yet comfortable.) The makeup artist (and he was certainly an artist) touched up my lips with a bit of pink that popped against the yellow.

And then the shooting began. Goodness me. I am NOT a model – it makes me wonder, why is it easy to look interesting and friendly in front of the mirror at home, but when people are watching and the camera pops, and someone says “Happy! Be happy” . . . why is it suddenly so darn awkward?

But I did my best. The previous Glow shoot photographer had me saying, “Ha ha ha!” so I tried it here : “Ha ha ha!” And then other people started saying “Ha ha ha!” along with me . . . we were all standing there saying, “Ha ha ha!” and it was quite surreal.

Ha-ha-ha.

Surreal, but fun. The makeup artist came over and fixed my hair constantly, thank goodness for that because often times he’d give me little tips on how to move or what to do with my legs which was really helpful.

Along the theme of flowers, I threw petals into the air, picked at a bouquet, and smelled the chrysanthemums. It was all very light and fun. Really fun, despite my nerves.

And then there was the video. Talk about uncomfortable! You see, during the shoot not everyone came round to watch – just the photographer, the prop stylist, the clothing stylist, the assistant, the makeup artist and the designer. There were a ton of other people hanging around too. But with the video EVERYONE had to watch.

Basically this video is going to be shown around the web and at events. It’s about Look Good Feel Better and Facing Cancer Together – my particular bit was mostly about blogging and the online community. (Hello community!)

Therefore, the light switches were flipped off and spot lights were turned onto my face (“Good lighting” assured the makeup artist, which somehow made me feel comforted – not that lighting worries had ever entered my mind . . . but nevertheless, I felt better.) and everyone had to be quiet. No mobiles. No moving. No talking. No light (except for the spotlight.)

So basically it was impossible to not watch the filming. However, while the idea intimidated me, the actual execution was alright. When bright lights get shot into your eyes, the watching crowd disappears.  Hopefully I was coherent – sometimes I’d use the wrong word and catch myself about ten seconds later, way after the sentence had passed by and couldn’t be corrected. But whatever. It was the real, second-guessing, me, and I reckon that translates okay onto film. (Or at least, I hope!)

The truly remarkable thing about this photo shoot was how smoothly it ran. With so many people criss-crossing one another, and so many aspects of the production collected in one room – it’s a miracle of good planning and professionalism that the project ran so smoothly. I’m truly impressed with each person in that room and the role they played.

Despite being nervous – totally nervous – about getting my photo taken . . . it was great to be in such a capable crowd, and supported 100% by their kindness and vision for this magazine. The upcoming issue of Lives Affected by Cancer will be hitting stands (as an insert in fashion magazines – how exciting) come next August. Judging by the way things went yesterday, it’s going to be an outstanding issue.

Sometimes you get lucky, eh, and get to be part of something great. Yesterday was something great, and I know Look Good Feel Better and Facing Cancer Together are programs that certainly deserve greatness.

So keep an eye on those newsstands. But don’t let this weather trick you, it’s not August yet.

P.S. I met Michael Carrera – blogger at Facing Cancer Together and personal trainer extraordinaire. But you know what, I’ll write more about that later, because I feel quite strongly about the usefulness of getting a physical trainer post chemotherapy, and it deserves a separate post.

Posted in cancer, cancer treatment, chemotherapy, facingcancer.ca, finding support, healing, life after cancer | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Murale and the make-up counter

16 Mar

I don’t know if you ever feel this way, but after having gone through a year of heavy-toxicity treatments (chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and junk-food comforts), I’ve been trying to become more aware of the ingredients used in my ‘daily routine’ products. So when it comes to soap, deodorant, shampoo, and make-up . . . nowadays, as I think is a growing trend with many people, I am more aware about what’s inside those lovely tubs of sweet-smelling bliss and blemish removing miracle creams.

And today, while visiting the Murale in downtown Ottawa, I was able to address some of my personal concerns with the make-up aesthetician and take her advice on brands to consider.

So my good friend (Let’s call her Dee) and I walk into this large open-space shop . . . and it’s all rather overwhelming. The number of high brand cosmetics is impressive, but where do you start? It’s not like I want to pick through each product and analyze the ingredients since that’ll take forever. My patience in terms of shopping has a very short fuse.

But here she comes: the aesthetician with black blue hair and wicked-awesome horn rimmed glasses, asking as my friend and I near the first large counter with mirrors and tissues, “Am I able to help you ladies?” Since I had an idea of what needed refreshing in my make-up arsenal (i.e. what I use most often, and therefore really need those products to be kind to my skin and sensitivities), I replied, “Yes, I’m looking for brands that avoid harsh-chemicals, scents, hormones, etc.”

And quick as whip, she took me to the products.

“I’m looking for a concealer”

“Try this.”  We test it under my eyes and find the matching colour.

“I’m looking for a moisturizer.”

“Try this.” She takes me across the store, to this Juice Beauty line, and lets me sample a  thick moisturizer that I look forward to slathering all over my thirsty face.

“I’m looking for a grape-water misty thing.”

“Oh, you mean this?” Apparently the makers of this brand were once wine people, but then they got creative with the left-overs of the wine-making products  . . . and here’s a basic spay to help refreshing the face.

Dee, my aforementioned good friend, leans over to me and says, “She is so good.” And then, when the punk-style aesthetician turns to Dee and helps her find an eye shadow for what the aesthetician identifies as her green eyes . . . well, Dee just thought the woman was fantastic. “I knew my eyes were green. I’m so glad she spotted that.”

And she was fantastic. Normally shopping for makeup is a overwhelming.  I’m a bit of tomboy – simply because I grew up with two brothers and no sisters, and girly things can confuse me.  But here was a lady taking me brand to brand (as opposed to just going up to one product counter and learning only of those options) and helping me find make-up that I can wear without hesitation.

Do you ever avoid make-up because of the ingredients? Well, if you’re like me, give this a consideration: Products are developing, and while they won’t soon be as pure as butter mixed with turmeric . . . I think women like us, women who worry, are being given more choices.

The only thing is, you’ve first got to stick in your head and ask what’s available.

So today I was able to use my wonderful Murale gift card, a generous Christmas present from the great team here at Facing Cancer Together, for an experience that went far more easily than I imagined possible.

For two chicks who don’t dig make-up counters, Dee and I actually had quite a good time visiting Murale. I like the collection of products, I really like the assistance – and even more, I LOVED what I walked away with.

Plus, it’s nice not worry. So nice. And, I do feel pretty with a spot of makeup.

Posted in cancer, facingcancer.ca, health, life after cancer | 3 Comments

Living the impact at Mirror Ball, 2011

23 Nov

Last Sunday morning about 8.00 am, I woke up totally buzzing with Mirror Ball, and I was like, “Catherine, you’ve got to write about this, now.” But then another part of me couldn’t even see straight since I’d stayed up till 2.00 am the night before, and Zsolt was beside me in bed still 100% asleep. I’ve tried before to type my thoughts out while he sleeps . . . but it causes him to wake up grumpy.  This is a shame since there’s no better time to write than when inspiration hits, but the thought of click-clacking too early and his reaction was enough to make me say, “Catherine, wait a little bit.”

Therefore I am today, Wednesday afternoon, at Starbucks. Not the local library, not the basement of my parent’s house, not Tim Hortons (for sure not  – that place is crazy)  . . . but Starbucks, with my green tea and laptop out. I feel very productive and stimulated (thanks to the jazzy Christmas music in the background) and ready to recount the weekend.

Okay, for anyone who doesn’t know – because if you don’t work in the Canadian cosmetics, fashion, media industries, or live in Toronto, (or read any of Sherry Abbott’s or @cancer2gether’s tweets), why would you know? I never knew until told . . . Anyhow, for those of you who don’t know, the Mirror Ball was originally named the Look Good Feel Better Ball, but was recently rebranded to incorporate Facing Cancer Together. :) This is a gala that raises funds for women with cancer. And wow, they raise funds in a big, big way.

So the party started around 5.30pm, though I didn’t roll in till 6.00pm (and Zsolt about 6.30pm, I left him upstairs in the hotel while Chantal took us around and showed us (i.e. Katie, Terri and me), where we’d be standing during our testimonials).  The event was held at the Royal York in Toronto, which has a fascinating history tied into the Fairmont chain and being connected to the wonderful Canadian Pacific Railway. When I see a Fairmount in Canada, I think about the history and roots of our country – the formation of not just colonies but a country, you know? People had a big vision when they began to unite Canada – and I admire big ideas (with positive results).  Anyhow, our history isn’t all puppies, kittens and choo-choo trains, but nevertheless visiting a Fairmount fills me with the fuzzies. So that was cool. Though I still wish they had free wifi.

After the technical bits of seeing where we’d talk, Zsolt and I grabbed our silent auction machines (handheld devices for bidding and donation making) and began to walk around the hall. Amongst the donated products (decanters, hammocks, paintings, Canada Goose outfits, wines, holiday packages, laptop chargers) a vaudeville theme was happening. Flappers seemed to be everywhere, and then there were the mimes (Scary? A little), contortionists, and so on. Mixed in with waiters serving drinks and savoury treats, Zsolt and I had quite a good time walking around seeing how much people bid on various items.

Oh yeah – quick aside, Zsolt wore his beautiful charcoal suit originally purchased for our wedding, and I wore this strapless black dress originally purchased for a PWC Christmas party (like 6 years ago). Going strapless with a prosthesis is slightly tricky and involved several safety pins strategically placed, but I think I pulled it off. And I wore heels, but barely . . . with the help of Zsolt’s arm and a decision to ‘walk very slowly, all the time, no matter what’ I wore heels. My mom knit my shall, and it received several compliments.

And alongside this lovely silent auction and party was the Twitterball. Did you catch that, by any chance? I was assaulted with a Ipad to give a ‘hi & hello’ to the Twitterball participants, so hopefully pulled that off okay. You know I would have loved to have gotten in on the tweeting, but have no means of social media’ing’ when away from the laptop. That will soon be corrected, but I need to wait till Christmas.  My parents were at home following along and trying to stream the event. It’s just amazing what technology is doing nowadays. My brother’s graduation had the same thing: round the world live-streaming.  So everyone can join the party. :)

This post is so long. But the night didn’t end here! I’ve got to keep writing! And you are invited to continue reading.

After the auction and milling and meetings (I finally meet the lovely and charming Both Sides, aka Dr Alexandra Ginty. She is so full of life & verve. AND I met Chantal, the community coordinator for Facing Cancer Together and my regular e-mail correspondent – she is as lovely in person as she is in the forums. It’s so wonderful to actually meet the women behind the writing, you know?), it was time to eat dinner in the dining room . . .

Oh boy. So we walk into the dining room and it’s all dim, and black velvet and sparkly. The walls around this giant room have equally giant screens showing the progress of the silent auction, the stage is by the far wall, and the tables are set with more wine glasses, plates and cutlery than I’ve ever seen on a table. We had the honour of sitting with fellow blogger Terri from a Fresh Chapter, Terri’s friend – who I loved talking with across the night, Chantal, some young women who had been involved in the LGFB program (and looked stunning!) and several photographers for the event.  It was so fascinating to speak with Korby and Jodi about photography. Korby Banner has this whole philosophy on how to bring out beauty with his makeup application and photography. I always find it inspiring to speak with someone who clearly adores their work – but even more so, throws themselves into it with the idea of becoming the best. That’s a good way to do things, no?

Anyhow, we were having a great time at our table. And then the soup arrived.

That’s when my heart basically exploded.

You see, Katie, Terri and I were giving one minute talk/testimonials that evening, which meant getting up in front of that giant crowd of professionals and baring a few scars. (Though not literally, because I’d worked really hard to get that strapless dress to stay in place.) To me, this felt rather different than my presentation in Orillia. In Orillia, they were nurses and who doesn’t feel comfortable around a kind-hearted, albeit overworked, nurse? Last Saturday night had ‘industry people’  . . . hmm, I didn’t know what to make of that.

My heart began to race.

So after the soup we were led from the table and snuck around backstage. Sherry Abbott (who looked stunning in her gown) took to the front of the stage and presented the Tamara Wig, then introduced us as we came up. And then, one by one, we gave our stories.

It was incredibly touching, my fellow bloggers are inspiring women – high five to Katie and Terri! After the testimonials Sherry called for donations and in about 5 minutes we raised just over 30,000 dollars.  My goodness.

And for the rest of the night these successful industry people who had so intimidated me came up and shared their story. They had been involved in the Look Good Feel Better program for over 20 years. They had posed for the first cover of the LGFB magazine after fighting cancer. They had lost a wife to cancer. They appreciated our honesty and bravery.

And for me, with all the wonderful glitz and glam, those moments were what made the night. Cancer doesn’t just impact people in a certain area of the world, a certain age group, a certain social or economic sphere . . . cancer simply impacts. And the explosion hits you, no matter what your situation. Every person in that room had their connections, their stories, their experiences. We had more in common than I had realized.

(So the next time you feel intimidated, just remember what you’ve endured, and how this disease has hit so many. I guess we’re all survivors, in a way, whatever the story or situation.)

The rest of the evening involved fantastic food, a decadent dessert, magic, comedy, more contortion, and late night dancing (first time in forever I’ve danced late into the night and not felt like a zombie. Amazing! And in heels, too!).

I feel honoured to have participated in this Mirror Ball, and glad to have helped raise more funds. For sure, Look Good Feel Better helps women reclaim their identity, and for sure, Facing Cancer Together forms a bridge for relationships and connections.

The Mirror Ball was a great night for a great cause. And it certainly deserves this extra long post.

Psst! Want to hear about the rest of our exciting weekend? Check out my personal page (www.bumpyboobs.com) for more stories and posts – Also, tweet with me on twitter (@bumpyboobs) and check out facebook too.

Posted in cancer, facingcancer.ca, finding support, healing, life after cancer, media | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Happy birthday, Facing Cancer Together

9 Nov

Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, Facing Cancer Together, happy birthday to you! One year old this week, FacingCancer.ca is still fresh. However, I’d almost forgotten it’s an initiative announced only last year. Time keeps flying by, and soon we’ll be celebrating its second, third, fifth, and tenth birthday.  Maybe we should pull out the camera and capture these moments of youth and innocence? You know, for the photo album?

Snap goes the camera! How did you find facing cancer?

For me it was through a tweet by Sherry Abbott (@SherryAbbott). She was calling upon lady bloggers who might contribute to this new webpage, Facing Cancer Together. Honestly I had no idea what that meant, but clicked on the accompanied link and began to poke around. The colour scheme was so appealing (this from a woman who picks cars based on which metallic shade looks more like lipstick) and I was fascinated by Terri’s blog, A Fresh Chapter. She was, at that time, the youngest woman (other than myself) who I’d ever known to be diagnosed with breast cancer. And there was also something striking in the tag line: For everything else you’re going through with cancer – It seemed like a fresh perspective to the cancer journey.

This was the first ‘cancer’ website I’d visited that didn’t leave me feeling overwhelmed. And so I applied to become a blogger.

“Say Cheese,”  – and Click! What’s your favourite part of the website?

Honestly, I love the stories. Whether it’s blogging or in the forum – people pour their hearts out. I think that bloggers are fairly comfortable airing dirty laundry online, but the most raw posts often come from anonymous women who are struggling with a cancer diagnosis. They are the ones who pull at my heart and it’s almost not enough to simply write back an encouraging response. But it does help, I think it really does help when people respond to your moment of desperation. Because almost everyone on this page has coped with at least some aspects of cancer, and so we know how to survive and live again with joy.

Now, smile big for the camera! What would you like to see on the site in year two?

I’d like to see the community grow, interact and learn more from one another. Maybe virtual workshops could be arranged ( from ‘Look Good Feel Better’ to ‘How to cope with chemo’ to ‘how to reclaim you life’ and even bits from people who have simply pushed and thrived and overcome even if not cancer related. That might be uplifting.), more articles on health, and an area that might feature members more prominently. I love the bloggers here – but there are so many other people interacting on this forum, and I bet everyone has a story to share. Maybe there could be a virtual ‘bill board’ where people post their needs (i.e. ‘Chemo patient in need of someone to shovel her driveway’, or announce their projects, or post a walking club in a certain area?) But all this interaction is truly the difficult bit. Why and how do people get involved online? What makes a person want to join a conversation? And can you even manage to contribute if you’re in treatment?

Okay – one last picture: Cheese! What was a highlight from your first year on Facing Cancer?

Okay – this site is for anyone dealing with any kind of cancer. But personally, this page helped because I could hear from other young women diagnosed with breast cancer. Until then, I felt quite alone in my diagnosis. Of course, I knew I wasn’t – but it was meeting and reading the stories of others. Like I said before, I love the stories here. I love the relationships fostered. It’s that personal connection which I’ll always be grateful for. Oh, and the article in Glow magazine. That was totally awesome too.

And that’s all the photos I’m taking for the album. But I have to wonder, what are your impressions, your memories, and what do you get from this site? At the moment this photo album is really limited (since I just whipped up this post and didn’t bother actually emailing and asking everyone their experiences). So you’re all welcome to contribute, if you like – I’m very happy to share the comments section below.

A  lot of things have been happening to me these past weeks. From losing my grandmother to going for MRI scans and now waiting for the results (I get highly suspicious with every phone call to the house, and hope to heck it isn’t the hospital). It’s almost too easy to become lost in my own personal bubble. And so I’m thankful for community, for this page, for twitter, for facebook. Yeah, okay, I’m a social media junkie. But whatever it takes to be reminded that the world keeps turning, eh. Another trick is to go outside and take a walk, which I’m about to do right now. Here in Ottawa it’s pushing 18 degrees, and that’s just plain crazy. Crazy awesome.

I hope you have a wonderful, warm and interactive day. And once more: Happy birthday, Facing Cancer Together.

Posted in cancer, facingcancer.ca, finding support, healing, life after cancer | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Warning: I’m stuck under a darker cloud this week

7 Sep

Can diagnosis be forgotten? At what point is it possible to say, “I won’t worry about cancer,” and really, truly mean it? You know I’ve heard more than once that after a diagnosis, people simply want to escape. Maybe they cannot handle the sudden mortality, or illness, or the fear of chemotherapy and further measures . . . maybe the sudden flip of that switch (you know, that big red switch on the wall reading “healthy” and “unhealthy” that clicks back and forth with every cold, flu, and cancer diagnosis) from a perfectly normal life, to life suddenly on alert . . . maybe it’s too much.

I’m just trying to wrap my head around this today. I can remember being told about the cancer, I can remember the acute fear that filled my thoughts . . . I can even remember wanting to run away. But you know what? I never, not for a second, actually humoured the idea of leaving well enough (or poor enough) alone.  Something had to be done. I had to do something.

But what if I hadn’t done anything? What if I’d said no to the surgery, or no to the chemo (after the doctor tells me I’ve got a 90% chance of recurrence if I don’t get further treatments . . .)

Would it have been courage or cowardice?

Because for sure I consider this past year of my life, while both revealing and defining, to have incorporated a challenge to identity, joy (not always, but sometimes it dried up and the depression ran deep), and independence.

Would it have been right to pretend the cancer didn’t exist? There are people who don’t get treatment – no matter how far things have progressed, and right deep in my heart I cannot decide if it’s the damn bravest thing I’ve ever heard, or the craziest.

I suppose the answer to that rests in the individual. Everyone gets to decide what is best for their life. Even if it means battling odds not stacked in your favour. Everyone should (though I know we all feel pressure) decide how their treatment is administered, or whether it’s administered at all.

Today I walked into the office of my General Practitioner. I’ve know her for about 23 years. Back when I was six my parents sent me to her for an ear exam. “She never answers when we call,” they said. My doctor thought it was probably nothing, and after a series of tests the results came back in: “She hears perfectly well . . . she’s just ignoring you.” (Though I’d argue it’s selective hearing.)

Point is: there wasn’t any problem. I was ‘Catherine, the little girl with no problems’.

Today I walked into the office of my General Practitioner. Today I was there to renew the drug that helps fight estrogen-loving breast cancer. Today I was a cancer survivor.

And it felt strange.

For one week – one lovely week at a cottage along the St Lawrance – I had nearly forgotten. And for a moment today, just a twinge before heading to the medical office, I wondered: “Could I just forget about everything? Wouldn’t it be great to not have a follow up, not be reminded of recurrence, not remember that I have an oncologist, and my GP is prescribing anti-cancer drugs, and I need to sign up for a drug plan cause, yeah, I’m not yet in the clear.”

Aren’t you ever tempted to forget?

But the only person we can answer for is ourselves. Anyhow. This week has made me wonder about courage, decisions, and forgetting. Wonderful things have happened too – Zsolt got a bank card, I set up my desk with paintings of Gatineau and Nice and wedding photos, and the entire family got together for a Sunday meal – but the back my mind has been ticking. Wondering. Reasoning. Coping. Wanting to understand.

And for today, that is all I can say about that.

Pssst! Check me out on twitter (follow) and facebook (like). To read posts-as-they-happen, plus the start of my breast cancer journey, visit www.bumpyboobs.com.

Posted in cancer, cancer medication, cancer treatment, facingcancer.ca, healing, life after cancer | Tagged | 5 Comments

Entering the Pleasure Zone: Glow and Canada

30 Aug

Here I am at the rental cottage along the St Lawrence in the 1000 Islands, hiding in the musty and dark bedroom while fighting off jetlag with a hearty infusion of nap – but my head is still buzzing and it won’t let me sleep. Why? Cause I wanna write this blog post.

Two fabulous things happened this week.

(Oh my goodness, I feel like I’m floating up and down, up and down. It’s from the dock. You know, sort of like when you step out of an elevator and can still feel the motion? Well I just came in from the dock and crashed into bed – and my world is going up and down, up and down. )

First fabulous thing to happen this week: Glow magazine.

A long, long time ago . . . okay, several months ago, but even that feels long to me . . . I was asked to write an article about what it’s like to be part of the FCT community. Now if you’re reading this post then I assume you already know what it’s like to participate in this unique forum. But my article talks about the transition I’m sure so many of us experience; from the shock of diagnosis, the initial desire to hide, and the eventual ‘coming out’ to a community of fellow fighters – finding support and joining the conversation. Honestly, I think sharing the experience, having a place to express what’s going on . . . I think it’s crucial in coping with the difficulties that follow a diagnosis. Stress busting through online support. And writing, commenting, connecting – those are icing on the cake to better peace of mind.

So it was really exciting to write this article. My first piece of published, hardcopy work.

Geez, I do love to write. Writing and sharing and connecting with people – that’s where the joy comes, you know? That’s my pleasure zone. It’s a dream of mine to be able to write for a living. And this article (hope I’m not going on too much. Frankly, it’s this community that anchors the article. So without the comments and conversations I’d have very little to say – your reactions and your input, that’s what makes this site work.), this article is a great start.

Anyhow, it’s on magazine shelves now. I know for sure Shoppers Drug Mart carries it, cause I just went out and picked up about five copies. Very exciting indeed. (Though very strange to flip through a glossy paged mag and see a picture of myself – do I look like that, really? – smiling back as my words fill the page.)

Second fabulous thing to happen this week: CANADA!

WOOOHOOOOOOOO!

Aiiiii!

Woooot! Woooot! Wooot!

And a whole lot of happy dancing. We are here. We have arrived. After an entire weekend of travelling and a few nervous moments before the big immigration for Zsolt, we have entered the country and are ready for this next life. What that exactly entails still remains to be seen. It’s kinda like that moment in The Graduate where they are on the bus as it drives away from the church, and you can tell as the camera lingers on them that a question is forming in both their minds: “What comes next?”

I don’t know. But whatever it is, I’m so pleased to be home. There is, as you know, no place like home. And hanging at the cottage this weekend is an incredible reminder of how much I love this country. The water, the animals, the outdoors – ah! Wonderful.

And now that I’ve gushed, I think my pillow is calling for me. “Catherine, come and sleep on me.”

Must . . .not. . . fight . . . it. Must . . . fall. . . asleep. Must. . . save. . . blog . . . post. Must . . . stop. . . typing.

Good night, good day, and have a wonderful labour day weekend.

Pssst! Check me out on twitter (follow) and facebook (like). To read posts-as-they-happen, plus the start of my breast cancer journey, visit www.bumpyboobs.com.

Posted in Uncategorized, facingcancer.ca, healing, life after cancer | Tagged , , | 6 Comments