Category Archives: health

Book Review: Kicking Cancer in the Kitchen

7 May

Living at my mother-in-law’s home (okay, and father-in-law’s home) in Hungary for the past several weeks has totally shanghaied my way of eating. The food is amazing – AMAZING! But I would not call it a cancer-fighting diet, and I definitely wouldn’t say it’s gluten free, and no way could it be called a sugarless experience. Therefore, Sunday morning when I woke up around 5 am after having flown the day before while returning from Europe, I decided it was time for a tabula rasa.

The empty fridge became my blank slate.

So, wrapped in my husband’s bathrobe (a very masculine black robe with dark stripes of red and blue running vertically, and totally fuzzy – he was fast asleep in bed, so I took the liberty of warming it up for him), I sat in the early-morning light of the kitchen window and flipped through the pages of Annette and Kendall’s beautiful cookbook: Kicking Cancer in the Kitchen, getting ideas for groceries and meals.

Having finished chemo and treatments about two years ago now, some parts of the books that would be extremely useful for the newly diagnosed (like how some friends stick and others don’t after diagnosis, losing hair, being kind to yourself, navigating nausea and side-effects) don’t apply to me. But then my fingers flipped to page p.103 entitled “What’s Your Food Groove”?

And I was like, “YES, my food groove! That’s exactly what I need.”

(While in Hungary I had been in ‘visiting-family-mode’ and eating way too many pastries and loads of gelato. Why didn’t I insist on more turmeric and cruciferous veggies? Though those bacon pizzas were amazing.)

Thinking this over, and remembering all that ice cream and pizza and cottage cheese pastries, guilt threatened to set-in. But Annette and Kendall’s cookbook had more to say.

The text went on to read: “Don’t think you have ever “slipped up” too badly or too long nutritionally, and that you might as well just give up. Life’s not about how many times you fall out of the saddle, it’s about how persistent you are at getting back up in it again. And sometimes again. And again.”

Yeah, that’s for sure. After chemo those years back I had to reclaim my kitchen again, and again, and again. Then today (not the same situation thank God, but I was still totally knackered), I was challenged to do the same: Cook something healthy that made me happy, and for the love of all that is good – keep it simple!!!

So I flipped through the pages of Kicking Cancer in the Kitchen. Page 226 had a simple recipe for kale with garlic, and page 234 had a simple explanation for roasted beets. I thought ‘throw in some trout, and this will be lovely.’ Interestingly, there’s no fish recipe in this book, nor are there chicken, beef, pork, game or anything other kind of meat. It’s all vegetarian, (or so it appears, please correct me if I am wrong) and I love that. Truth be told, I know how to cook many different types of meat – what I really need, and would much enjoy, are more meat-free options, so this is an idea-bank for reducing my meat and upping my yummy veg.

There’s also a recipe on page 312 for a watermelon smoothie. With the current summer heat I’m thinking of trying it later this week.

Fast forward a few hours into Sunday after we grocery shop and I work magic in the kitchen, and we’re eating a lovely meal of kale, beets and trout. There’s something about eating good, garlicky, salty, roasted, tender, juicy, YUMMY food that really makes me smile.

And there’s something about it being easily done that I really like too. Kicking Cancer in the Kitchen is full of different ideas for you to eat, and really nicely broken down into how it might help with nausea, fatigue, immune boosting, dehydration defending and mouth sore soothing. It is great to see healthy made simple. Kicking Cancer is definitely a book to give to those newly diagnosed, or to order from Amazon if you are looking for some food inspiration. It’s like having tea with your girlfriends and receiving some really good advice, as well as some really yummy recipes. What surprised me the most about this book was that three years after diagnosis, I still find it relevant. Eating well doesn’t go outta style, even if I need to reboot my food groove after a vacation of indulgence. It’s good to have these reminders of ways to creatively get my cancer-fighting-nutrients, and as I said before, it’s really good to have a veggie and protein (but not meat) focused cookbook. It’s a first in my kitchen, and about time too!

Pros: Simple to follow, Veggie-focused, Breakdown of benefits, Conversational Style, Yummy and simple food

Cons: The dishes waiting to be cleaned! Mind you, that’s my husband’s problem. ;)

(A little while back I wrote a guest post for Annette and Kendall on their blog, The Kicking Kitchen. Feel free to read about how my dad once poured tomato sauce over me!)

And now I’m really hungry, so I’m going to go and eat something!

Catherine

Posted in cancer, health, life after cancer | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Smashing Bugs, But “Not With My Favourite Mug!”

5 Nov

This is something I’ve gotta share, because it’s so gross and so ridiculous I can’t keep it in. (Wow – that’s a really tempting opening line, no? High five for gross and ridiculous!) And as I said on facebook, if I didn’t tolerate a body invasion by cancer, no way am I going to tolerate an invasion of bugs in my home!

Right: Last Thursday Zsolt and I finished our dinner, and were putting away the dishes when outta the blue Zsolt starts raising his voice: “There’s something on the counter!”

Our counter is plastic, but pretends to be marble with a dark marble-like pattern. So at first I don’t see it – but then, hello! Movement on the counter.

Oh. My. God.

For some reason, I’m holding Zsolt’s favourite mug and I begin trying to both catch or smash this bug that’s booting it across the counter. Zsolt stops worrying about the bug and starts freaking out over the mug, saying over and over it’s his favourite mug and ‘not with my favourite mug’.

The bug shoots off to the corner of the kitchen counter, then – with no escape in sight, turns around and starts running back at me. “Give me another cup!”

We someone switch mugs and now I’ve got my English Stamp mug in my hand, which is nice quality china and a gift from my library friends when I left the UK. But at that moment it became a smashing tool.

This bug is hoofing it! I’ve never seen an insect run like this. And in the back of my mind, all I can think is “Oh shit.”

But! The front of my mind is on the ball, and “BAM” I cup the sucker. No, I didn’t crush it. I cupped it. My thing with insects is that I’m continually pulled between cupping them or killing them. So I have a rule: if it isn’t a threat, I cup; if it is a threat, I KILL. At this point, the bug was unidentified.

After cupping this thing, we spend like 5 minutes figuring out how to flip the cup over and plastic wrap the top so we could examine the insect up close without losing it. Zsolt took care of the flipping and I handled the plastic wrapping. Then we headed to the computer and I google-searched the word, “Cockroach.”

Mother Tucker. I won the prize.

The cockroach was only about ¾ an inch to an inch large, but it had all the google-listed items: the antennas, the wings, the little things that stick out the back and the Olympic-race-winning legs that run really damn fast.

So that was Thursday. Over the weekend I was at the Ultimate Wake Up, but still managed to amass an arsenal of roach-killing goodies in between sessions. Now here is the plan:

  • Check with neighbours to see if they also have roaches. This is likely, whether or not they’ve spotted the frackers.
  • Set out traps of jars filled with water, which I’ve done, with the inside greased with petroleum jelly. DROWN ROACHES, DROWN! And make some baking soda balls with which to poison them.
  • Find a shop that sells cockroach traps and stock up, purchase extras to give to the neighbours & entice them to co-operate in the effort. (Plus, this is a good excuse to maybe actually knock on a door and say hello; so maybe there’s some good in this bad, eh? “Building community through cockroaches.”)
  • Seal up cracks. I need to buy some steel wool, will be duct taping closed the access to the water pipes (it’s really big), and will stuff cracks between wall & cupboard and by the door with steel wool.
  • May spray areas with bug-killing poison . . . but we are trying for non-toxic methods before heading down that road.
  • Email Landlord to have holes in walls patched (we’re kinda mid-renovation here)
  • Take out garbage every evening, as well as recycling.
  • Wash, dry and put away dishes whenever necessary. Sweep for crumbs. Wipe dry wet surfaces.
  • DESTROY ALL ROACHES.

So I’m not totally worried. I adore this apartment, and some stupid disease carrying bugs aren’t going to stop that relationship. Screw them and their tiny antennas. Zsolt and I are becoming roach busters, we’re familiar with kicking invader ass.

P.S. This upcoming weekend is the #MirrorBall2012. You are so welcome to join us online in the celebration of Look Good Feel Better and Facing Cancer Together.

And hey, if you want to just hang out regardless of a party – you can find me on facebook at Bumpyboobs, on Twitter at Bumpyboobs, on Pinterest (with pictures) as Bumpyboobs, or at my personalized page www.bumpyboobs.wordpress.com See the trend? Well, I’d love to see you online and say hello. Please do stop by with a like, share or tweet!

Posted in health, life after cancer | 2 Comments

Regulation Thermography Testing

24 Sep

Let me tell you a story in the continuing adventures of my breasts. (Yeah, one of them was removed, but nevertheless I still feel that somehow I have two boobs. Weird, or what?) Okay, here it goes:

Last week I went off for some regulation thermography testing, which is screening based on body temperature – it essentially looks for areas of your body that are more hot or cold than would be expected, which could indicate an issue at play.  I think recently thermography was studied and found to be an unreliable screening method. (i.e. This is NOT a screening option, and NOT a substitute for proven methods like mammograms, MRIs, and ultra sounds.)

But I went ahead and tried it anyhow – not as an alternative, but just as something extra to do. (This post is about my experience only, and is certainly not a recommendation.) Now, that having been said . . .

I’m down to yearly breast screenings. On top of this, no one seems to want to give me anything more than a mammogram. Forget that dense breasts don’t jive well with just mammogram screening – that’s only one point that really gets me frustrated. . . the even bigger annoyance is that this is radiation being shot repeatedly into an area of my body I already 100% know is vulnerable to cancer.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to go crazy, it’s just the lack of options – I mean good options that doctors are actually willing to prescribe without fear of it hurting the budget, are very limited.

Wow. I’m getting off track. Let’s try again. Last week I went for regulation thermography testing, because I wanted to peek in on the ladies and surrounding areas for an update. There’s a clinic in Carp that takes readings of your entire torso, and it’s quite interesting to see how the varying temperatures are interpreted.

What happens for this type of thermography testing? You don’t get light or heat shot through you, instead they take many, many, many temperature readings across many, many, many points on your body.

First, they get you cozy. I had a skirt on, so was given a blanket to wrap up in.

Then, they measure some points for temperature.

Next you take off your clothes and sit there in the cold. Well, you take off all your clothing minus some underwear. I borrowed Zsolt’s loose boxers for this occasion – they did the trick and didn’t cut off any circulation (since no tight clothes were allowed)

Once cooled, you temperature is taken again all over the place: point after point after point. I wonder if these correspond to acupuncture points?  Anyhow, once the test has finished, there’s a print out.

The technition said she needed to look at it in detail, but reviewing it quickly, she told me that my breast looks fine though it seems I’m having some kind of digestive reaction to something. Yeah, that just about sounds right, my GI has been messed up for a while and I’m still on the long road of fixing that up.

It was a good scan, and I’ll likely get it done again. I like that it’s non-invasive, not done in a hospital, and the lady was really compassionate. I like the results too – particularly that she noted my digestive issues. Now, of course, I’ll have to consider mammography, ultra sounds, MRIs etc in the future . . . but for now, I’m just glad to have been reviewed in a way that doesn’t leave a footprint on my body.

And that is the story of regulation thermography testing.

(P.S. It’s raining cats and dogs today, though my mom always points out that above the clouds the sun is shining, and we’re going to start packing our stuff tomorrow for next week’s move. We are getting outta my parent’s house. Happy days and exciting prospects ahead!)

(P.P.S. This entire post (and entire blog) is just a recounting of my personal experiences, not a recommendation of any kind for any sort of treatment, screening, whatever. I just wanted to share, is all. If you have questions, take them to a professional.)

(P.P.P.S. I am currently living in Ikea while preparing to move to our own place in Ottawa. I’ve been stocking up on their fabrics and sewing like mad. I think this is called ‘nesting’.)

(P.P.P.P.S I have a sense my storytelling was rather flat this post. Can we please blame that on the weather? Thanks.)

Posted in cancer treatment, healing, health, life after cancer | Tagged | 3 Comments

Blessings for Home and Health

26 Aug

Before leaving Hungary we paid a visit to Zsolt’s grandmother. Her name is Anna, and she lives in a house all alone with a garden so large you could get lost amongst the apple trees, tomato bushes, strawberry plants, raspberries, grapes and climbing vines. Near the front of the garden (close to her many potted cactuses) are a few fruit trees – white peaches, yellow peaches, plums, and pears. My favourite are the peaches; they’re nearly as large as your head. (Well I exaggerate slightly, but they are huge.)

So we visited Anna, Zsolt’s grandmother, to eat some peaches and discuss the family tree. (Zsolt is hard at work on his family tree, and occasionally he and his grandmother get together and conspire over names, dates and locations.) The conversation rolled from one thing to another – all in Hungarian, so I kept myself busy eating a giant peach, peeling off the skin with a 70 year old paring knife Anna had saved, and dropping peach slices occasionally onto my dress, onto the floor, and onto the table cloth (probably also ancient – Anna keeps everything, and in perfect condition too. I do not have this talent, as we’ve already established.)

Well the conversation was rolling, and moved to the topic of needlework. Along with their paprika and lace, Hungarians are known for beautiful bright coloured needlework. Anna, back when her eyesight was better, was a master with the needle. She has numerous beautiful pillows that she made herself with the thread and needle. (And in fact, she’d just picked up a pillow case from the market for me which she gave to me while I was eating my giant peach. Woohoo!)

But even more special than the pillow case and flowers, has got to be the home blessing. This is a ‘poem’ or just a special thought that people keep in their home to bless it, and will pass along generation to generation. Zsolt mentioned to his grandmother how one day he’d like to put a home blessing in wherever we end up living – and guess what? Well, I am sure you can guess. She gave him a very special home blessing. This isn’t one she sewed herself, it’s from a generation prior –made  by the second wife of Zsolt’s Great Grandfather’s. Unlike the pillow cases, this doesn’t highlight any flowers. Instead it’s very simple.

White cloth with blue thread. There are two angles stitched into the cloth, and between them they hold a banner. It reads as follows:

Házi áldas

Hol hit ott Szeretet

Hol szeretet ott béké

Hol Beke ott áldás

Hol áldás ott isten

Hol listen ott szükség nincsen.

Which translates into

Home Blessing

Where belief there is love,

Where love there is peace,

Where peace there is blessing,

Where blessing there is God,

Where God there is nothing else needed.

Is that wonderful, or what? I think so very much, and it’s made even more special to realize this blessing has been in several generations of the Mucsi family homes, now to be in ours. We’ll hang it in a place of honour for sure.

And I was thinking, now that we have a home blessing (good signs of soon finding a HOME), maybe I should write myself a health blessing as well. Something like,

Where Peace there is Health

Where Health there is Gratitude

Where Gratitude there is Love

Where Love there is God

Where God, nothing else is needed.

I’m not always 100% chatty about my feelings on God, but I do believe in the amazingness of life, of the remarkable miracle of our existence, of a big ‘something’ out there that holds us together (it gives me comfort when I remember that earth is not much more than a speck of dust floating through space),

And you know what else? I believe in staying healthy, happy and cancer-free. In fact, it’s my personal motto.

Do you have a home blessing? What about a health blessing? What would you write in yours, if you decided to go ahead and bless yourself with a few simple words?

Anyhow. That’s my story of Anna, the garden, her needle work and this beautiful home blessing.

(By the by, we are now sailing across the ocean toward New York on the Queen Mary. This post has been made possible by wordpress’s wonderfully convenient ‘Publish’ option – and I actually scheduled it for publication last week. So you are reading my words, in this moment, from the past! Freaky stuff. Or maybe not . . . isn’t that what we’re always doing when reading people’s work?)

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Proactivity for the reluctant patient (I’ve been there)

11 Jun

A few weeks back I read this great post about pro-active care by Dr. Rob Lamberts regarding assumptions made by patients that are not to their benefit. Now, I don’t reckon patients mean to make assumptions, but we can get overwhelmed or tired or freaked out in general, and sometimes it’s just easier to trust that the hospitals have it under control.

But more than once it has been to my benefit to actively collect my medical information and ask questions in regards to my treatment. Moving between countries, managing chemo and planning radiation was all done by asking, knowing, and understanding how the treatment would unfold. Not to forget the fertility stuff, which is basically an exchange with me and the doctors on when and how long I’ll try for a baby vs. stay on hormone therapy.

(Doctor Canada’s words: “Just let me know before you start trying and I’ll order scans. We’ll get you checked out first. “ I was almost in shock by his understanding. . . )

Anyhow. Following on Dr. Lambert’s concept and adding in my own perspective, here’s a quick list of ideas for getting proactive with your treatment despite feeling overwhelmed. When first diagnosed you might not want to deal with this extra stuff and I totally get that. That’s why this is a fairly simple list o things you can do to help make that process of self-managing easier.

1. Ask for copies. Blood tests, scans, diagnosis, imaging, reports – You have a right to it, and there’s no problem with collecting this information. I’ve not met a doctor yet who said, “no way,” when I asked for a copy of the results. If you move or change doctors, having this packet of information at the ready makes life much easier. You can bring these results with you to appointments too.

2. Assign a data manager. This really only works with a spouse or partner who is willing to go with you for most of your appointments/be the one who asks for more details. When I was exhausted and couldn’t think beyond my nausea, Zsolt would pick up the slack and come prepared with a list of questions. (2.5, arrive with a list of questions and work through them, and don’t feel bad about taking that time.) If you have someone how can strategize like that, they are an awesome help.

[Zsolt was a results analysis machine. When my mastectomy happened with the tumour being removed, he analyzed the resulting reports with a fine tooth comb. He was asking the doctors such intelligent questions about membranes and margins .  . . I had no idea what they were talking about, but was glad it was all being discussed.]

3. Enjoy the complimentary. Part of self-managing your treatment is to take care of your body & mind beyond hospital appointments. Get to your nearest cancer support centre and speak with some of the facilitators or administrators there. (For me it was a BIG, scary deal to walk into any sort of cancer-centre looking for help. I was freaking nervous, totally uncertain, and not yet accepting my ‘cancer patient’ status. A good support centre gets this experience, and will help you feel comfortable.)

There’s so much you can do to help restore yourself – think gentle yoga, acupuncture, massage therapy, counselling, art classes, Look Good Feel Better, physical training, etc. Much of it is complimentary, and while hospitals don’t often say: GO TO THE CENTER AND GET EXTRA HELP, this is something you can do for yourself.

4. Never hesitate. Don’t feel embarrassed if your side-effects are so wild that your quality of life has evaporated into nothing: instead, contact the hospital, raise the issue and ask for help from your nurse or doctor. Just forget about the embarrassment of being the ‘nagging patient’. You are not nagging, you are actively working with the medical team to ensure your experience is as okay as possible. Go on, call the nurse and tell her the nausea isn’t subsiding . . . see if they can help. (Because they won’t call you first.)

And lastly, though I know it can be so uncomfortable:

5. If you’re feeling uncertain, get a second opinion. If you’re not certain and your doctor is a reasonable person, this shouldn’t be a big deal (despite our fears of insulting people). Back during my treatment I was recommended a ‘gold standard’ of radiation, but upon getting a second opinion, decided to go for a different sort of radiation that meant less time at the hospital (Because I couldn’t stand it any longer!!). The original doctor was enough of a pro that he didn’t mind my looking for possibilities.

So there you have it. The ‘easy on the pressure, just to cover your bases’ list of actively engaging in your care. Once you gain your strength or begin to feel confident within the system, or if your curious right now, do check out Dr Lambert’s list as well.

Have yourself a lovely week – I hope the weather is as good for you as it’s been for me. Gorgeous!

(Plus I just purchased about 3 meters of fabric from IKEA and am super keen to reupholster some kitchen chairs . . . just as soon as I deal with the hundred of staples that are stopping me from ripping off the original fabric, which looks like pea soup.)

Enjoyed the post? Well, maybe you could relate to these too – fumble along with me at bumpyboobs.wordpress.com, or even better, say hello on Twitter or hang out on Facebook for some like-minded fun. :)

Posted in cancer, cancer treatment, finding support, healing, health | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Tickle Torture and Why I’m Deciding to Relax

28 Apr

Sweet, sweet nothingness. After a week of full-steam ahead – I think it’s time for a break. Sure there are things to do, posts to write, chores to attend . . . but once in a while you’ve just got to say: Nope, I’m staying in bed. (Or in my case, I’m getting back in bed).

The other day Zsolt sent me an article about the importance of exercise and eating well. You’ve all seen these articles. Every few months new research shows – surprise! Exercise, vegetables, fish and grains are healthy. It’s not as though I wasn’t aware of all these things before he forwarded the article, but it was nevertheless a nice reminder. This past month has been quite busy with my days scheduled in full, and for some reason exercise consistently gets moved to the back of the priority list.

So we have been walking, and until it gets warmer I guess that will be it. However walking doesn’t really build a sweat so in the back of my mind there is this tickle: exercise more.

And then there’s the work. Last year we upped and moved from England to Canada which mean everything dove into a tailspin. My work mostly comprised of cleaning the house and making meals. Plus, of course, the writing of lovely stories. However we’re adults living in my parent’s house and this has ceased to be cool. (Not that it ever was, but it certainly was convenient). Therefore, as Zsolt hunts for a job in the land of science,  my goal has become: get us out of the house. And bit by bit I’ve picked up freelancing opportunities that will, soon, shortly, enable us to MOVE OUT.

Yay!

So as I lay here in bed I’m totally stoked, and yet, I’m also flat out in need of a nap. This whole ‘work for yourself’ thing is new, and I’m still learning boundaries. And in the back of my mind there’s this little tickle: make more money.

Plus, of course, a well-rounded woman these days is meant to pursue her passion. While blogging is a pleasure, writing fiction is a passion. And yet, because passion can often translate into ‘luxury’ and therefore be saved for only the best of times (i.e. the quietest), I’ve pushed aside all writing activity along with the exercise in favour of other obligations.

But there’s that little tickle: Keep on writing.

And since I’m onto tickles, there’s the relationships tickle: Give time to your husband.

Plus the friend tickle: Make time for your friends.

Along with the family tickle: Spend time with your parents.

Soon enough I’m going to hyperventilate with all this ridiculous tickling. I mean, at what point does tickling cross over into torture? Were there men in black hoods during medieval times who held giant feathers and tickled their victims to death?

This is my proposal: Take a freaking break from worrying about all these obligations and ‘to do’s, and instead, lay in bed and watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer while sipping tea and eventually taking a nap.

Just for today – no more tickling. Just for today, I’ve got to cut some slack. And I suggest you do the same. (If you don’t already count reading this blog post as a mini-vacation from the world . . . hey, some people just might!) Forget the obligations, the should-do, the ‘I feel guilty cause I’m not’ . . . and just enjoy as much as possible, even if only for a minute.

Now please excuse me, Buffy is waiting.

The end. :) For today.

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Blame it on the BRAIN FOG

6 Apr

Funny story, yesterday my father lost the car keys. So I’m in the kitchen minding my business (mixing brownies, boiling eggs and prepping some curry) as he runs around the house huffing and puffing over ‘where the heck are the keys’.

And I think to myself, Should I help him? And I answer myself, “Don’t worry about it.” Because I know 100% that they will turn up. Key always turn up, hardly anything ever gets lost, and ‘misplaced’ is not a reason to stop what I’m doing.

Except my Dad feels differently, and he’s pulling up the bed sheets and remaking the bed; he’s going through the newspapers and shaking them for that ‘jingle’ sound; he’s going back to the car and retracing his steps; he’s checking the kitchen (and I am mostly ignoring him, except for suggesting he leave it alone for a while so the memory can float up in his brain) and having no luck.

So I slip into my little pre-Easter world. There’s loads to do, plus I have all kinds of side work I ought to be focusing more on . . . this whole ‘multi-tasking without over loading’ thing is posing a bit of a challenge. I have work to do. I do it. But then sometimes I can’t calm down, and photo booking isn’t always the answer.

Today I had to walk away from my computer because it was making this ‘whirring’ sound so loudly I thought it might crash. Crashing computers suck. So do crashing brains (like my brain last Tuesday after two meetings and a nerve-wracking viewing of the Hunger Games, which was good, but not exactly the post-exertion cool down I should have followed.), which means this upcoming Easter weekend in general is going to be awesome. Family, food, and chocolate – hello, heaven on earth!

But thank goodness for the weekend . . . and yet there’s still so much to do . . . and the brownies aren’t looking their best because I overcooked them by about five minutes. . . but the curry looks divine.

“ARE THESE THE KEYS?” my dad declares, heading into the kitchen and waving them around.

“Yep,” I reply, still lost in my world and trying to be Zen with my food.

“They were in your coat pocket!” he tells me

(Now he wasn’t furious or anything like that, actually he was relatively cool headed considering he’d spend a good deal of time thinking he’d gone crazy, searching the house and getting nowhere.)

And all I can say is:  “Hun?” Because I didn’t drive the car today, and I sure can’t remember picking up those keys.

But there you have it – totally my fault. Apparently I’m the one with too much on my mind and absent-mindedly picking things up and placing them elsewhere. But like the title says, we could just blame it all on the brain-fog, except that it’ one year post chemotherapy, and I believe that chemo-brain is meant to have worn off. (Though I know others who would certainly argue othewise.)

Once I put a container of milk in the cupboard with the dishes, but I was distracted by a boy so maybe that’s okay.

So Dad, I apologize. You are not crazy. I’m crazy. Poor man was put through the ringer and all along I was totally nonchalant, and all along it was totally my fault.

But at least the curry is delicious. And he seems pretty happy eating it right now, so I guess all is forgiven.

Moral of this story . . . Sometimes it’s better just to stop and help others, despite being wrapped in ourselves . . . next time he loses his keys (and he will – and it will not be my fault), I’ll help discover where they were mislaid. It’s basically the least I can do!

Happy Easter!!

Can you relate to this post? Well, maybe you could relate to these too – fumble along with me at bumpyboobs.wordpress.com, or even better, say hello on Twitter or hang out on Facebook for some like-minded fun. :)

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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!

Posted in facingcancer.ca, finding support, health, life after cancer | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

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

BRCA genetic testing results are in!

2 Mar

Well, we have arrived, it is the end of another week. And this week was particularly interesting not only for having done some volunteering, seeing my (i.e. Facing Cancer Together’s) PSA advertisement hit the electronic news stands – see page 31 for me and my very white teeth, or trying to arrange a photo shoot (an attempt to describe my current state of hair may not have been so clear, as they kept asking me to bring along my wig), but also because this is the week of my BRCA results.

Genetic testing has been done. And I’ll get straight to the results, then talk about their meaning. Basically – for the two BRCA genes where they have identified a known mutation linked to high probabilities of cancer – I am A-Okay! No mutation. Everything works tick-a-dee-boo.

WooooHooo!!!

(Insert here the happy dance that Mom, Dad, Zsolt and I did this afternoon after sharing the news. Dad cranked up Depeche Mode’s Question of Time and made us all dance around the kitchen in celebration. And you are welcome do dance as well, if you’d like.)

So while the mystery of ‘why did you get cancer’ remains unsolved, I’ve nevertheless been spared this additional weight in my journey. What that means is I am lucky, very lucky, to not have to consider removing my ovaries and uterus due to high risk . . . and my left breast is also giving a sigh of relief.

None of this means I cannot be vigilant – checks, scans, tests must all be done regularly. After all, I did have cancer, and yeah, that doctor in the UK quoted me at fifty percent of a pizza . . .so yes, I need to remain on guard.

But I guess my chances of developing a second cancer are not drastically high. The genetic consultant did this lovely test for me where she calculated the likelihood of my developing a second cancer . . . she arrived at a life-time risk of 16%. But that is when I’m eighty. Right now, here in my thirties, it’s like from less than zero to one percent.

They did, however, find a bizzaro mutation on my BRCA1 gene that cannot be identified. Generally speaking, they feel it’s not pathogenic (i.e. not cancer causing) but they cannot be positive. This means that every three or five years, I’m meant to call into the clinic and check to see whether that particular (currently mystery) mutation  has been linked to cancer. Hopefully it becomes confirm as ‘not a bad thing’ as the gene is further investigated.

Honestly, I am thankful to not be identified as having hereditary breast cancer. I am thankful for myself, and my body/baby related choices, but also for my mother, my cousins, my family, and – hopefully – my future children. I am very, very thankful.

People who are diagnosed with the messed up BRCA genes live incredible lives beyond cancer (or even without cancer!) – think about Terri from a Fresh Chapter, for instance. But nevertheless that’s a heavy slice of knowledge about a body that could potentially turn on you. (Of course this is the case for everyone, not to be too ‘doom and gloom’, but imagine having a doctor say, “there’s a 80% chance you’ll get cancer if you don’t remove those breasts.) I cannot speak for their journeys, but I do know they are journeying despite a certain monkey on the back, and that in itself is hugely admirable.

Anyhow, today was a relief and I am thankful, very thankful. It’s such good news . . . I don’t want to boast, but it’s such very, very good news.

And for today, that is all I’ll write about that.

Posted in breast cancer, health, life after cancer | Tagged , | 5 Comments