On Having Chemo AND Being in "Remission"

Theoretically I am still in remission. That is what all the tests say. I have no tumour markers in my blood work nor has any cancer come up in my recent PET and CT scans. Yet, we know for a fact the cancer has returned.  How did this come to light? Let me explain.

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2005 it was discovered it was HIGHLY estrogen receptor positive meaning that the estrogen in my body was fueling the cancer's growth. This is not unusual and there are drugs used to remove estrogen from the body. I was put on Tamoxifen for this reason and eventually started receiving monthly Zoladex injections which turned off my ovaries completely. Theoretically that should have kept my cancer at bay.

After a few years of these monthly Zoladex injections I asked my oncologist if having my ovaries removed was not a simpler option. She agreed that since it didn't seem likely that I could ever stop taking the medication and that I was having some undesirable side-effects that might be resolved from a simple oophorectomy, going that route was a reasonable choice.

So on August 18th, 2011 I had elective surgery to yank my lady egg sacs. I woke up from the procedure feeling surprisingly good and was chatting with my mom when my surgeon arrived at my bedside. She looked like she was about to cry and told me that once she had entered my abdominal cavity she found small white cancerous deposits all over the place. Most of them were under 3 mm which would make them invisible on a scan but she had removed a couple larger ones for testing. She went on to tell me that I would likely need more chemo.

I'm not sure why but I was not particularly shocked or even that upset. Maybe it is because once you've heard a cancer diagnosis it is always in the back of your mind it will come back and you will hear it again.  Even being declared cancer-free you are never really free of the memories or thoughts of it returning. You are certainly not free of the scars and even side-effects of your treatment. Cancer never entirely leaves you after you've had it.

I remember feeling sad for the doctor that she was so upset telling me this news and I patted her arm and told her it would be okay.

She went on to tell me that while these cancerous spots were all over my peritoneum the rest of my organs, including my ovaries, looked fine. This was not entirely true as when the test results came back it turned out my ovaries were "completely" cancerous and that 1.5 cm biopsy of my bowel came back cancerous as well. One thing I knew from the start is that my type of breast cancer, lobular carcinoma, can be sneaky. It doesn't produce actual tumours but simply infiltrates the tissue, symptomless and invisible, much of the time. I've never had tumour markers in my blood tests. All my biopsies have looked perfectly fine to the human eye but have turned out to be very cancerous. Needless to say my oncologists' calming reassurances of my remission status hasn't meant a whole lot to me over the years.

This type of cancer diagnosis is called an incidental finding. If I had not had this surgery I would have never known the cancer had metastasized. So I am lucky. Not the lottery winning type of lucky but the type who finds out her previously thought cancer in remission was not so remissiony after all and gets to have chemo sooner instead of finding out once it had spread to bones, brain, etc kind of lucky!  WOo!

My oncologists were happy to take a wait-and-see approach for treatment but since I have the sneaky kind of cancer I wasn't that confident conventional testing would identify when things might be getting out of hand. I chose to act aggressively and do chemo right away. Sorta.

I decided to finish my semester at school and managed to do that while recovering from surgery, undergoing tonnes of tests and seeing lots of doctors. My attendance record wasn't pretty and my focus and concentration really sucked but with the help of some very understanding instructors I passed my fall semester with fairly decent grades.

Then I went to Vegas for a week to spend time with a good friend, had Christmas with my family and started chemo in January.

So far it is MUCH less debilitating that my previous chemo regimen. Yet, I can't say I am having a blast either.

When cancer goes rogue like mine has it is likely to be a long-term chronic condition; a disease you can live with, sometimes for many years. The hope is to keep you alive long enough for a better treatment to come along. Only about 7% of people have their metastatic cancer go into full remission. However, I've been oddly lucky so far and my cancer has been weird and rare from the start so I don't see why I can't be part of that statistic.

A Cornucopia of Feline Delight

A Cute Photo To Reduce Your Ire

Ok, I am sorry I haven't posted. Very very VERY sorry. But after I spill my brain onto this blog about what has happened over the last month you may regret your recent inquiries into my, Yoshi's and Dexter's well being.

We all all good.

Now that I got that out of the way I'll get into a little more detail.

I've been heinously busy. Partly because I am a terrible procrastinator, partly because I am a good citizen and partly because I need to pay the bills. Against all promises I made to myself, my graphic designer, my family and my friends I once again left the creation of the 2009 Iconic Women By Yoshi Calendar to the last minute. What can I say? I work better under pressure. Just not this much pressure. So it is almost done and will be sent to the printer by next week. I'll be opening up Urbanbeast.ca for pre-sales next week as well so you can order the very first copies right away for immediate delivery.

With the addition of Dexter into the mix photographing Yoshi has been a little more difficult. It involves taking Dexter over to my parent's house so Yoshi won't have a grand mal hissy. While more time consuming it has worked out even better as Yoshi loves the one-on-one time and is posing better than ever.

She is so totally and completely hilarious and adorable and I could nom nom nom her to death.

Now about Dexter. He is the cutest, most loving, friendly, happy-go-lucky kitten ON THE PLANET. Without out a doubt everybody who meets him is charmed and smitten instantly. Saying that he is also horribly bad, intentionally annoying, a less than enthusiastic listener, completely lacking in boundaries and manners, clearly not very bright, a terrible farter, and alarmingly destructive.

Yoshi totally hates him.

Her initial curiosity and interest in Dexter was replaced with loathing when he grew bigger and started jumping on her when she was sleeping, looking the other way, eating, trying to poop and minding her own business in general.*

*See above mention of lack of manners and boundaries.

So my day is filled with hissing, growling, spitting, and heartfelt smack-downs. Entirely and totally on Yoshi's part because Dexter just thinks it is all fun and more fun. Did I mention he really is not very bright?

I can say with certainty that I understand why my parents used to get so frustrated when my brother and I bickered because I now experience daily (333333333 TBGE3333333333334 -Dexter intruding on this post) the equivalent of a little boy persistently picking on his older sister. Yoshi has a look that clearly conveys, "MOoooooOOOM! He's looking at me again!"

I am exhausted. I've also taken to yelling, "Simmer DOWN! You guys!"

The futility.

Despite Yoshi's hatred she is actually really happy in general. She is resigned to Dexter's presence and, I think, not as bored as she was. Kind of like the curmudgeonly old lady yelling at the neighbourhood children to get of her lawn. Bitter but fully occupied. I expect that once Dexter grows up and loses his kitteny assholiness they will just sleep the day away in each other's company like boring old cats do.

Random Dexter von Cheddar Stats:
3 1/2 months old
5lbs 11 oz
Meows a lot
Slightly cross-eyed
Eats anything
Drools when purring

Nicknames:

• The Ched
• Ched Head
• Sir Stink-a-lot
• D von C
• NoooooDEXTERNOOOOOO!
• Duuuuude-don't wreck my shit.
• Little One
• Grandmaster Dork

As for me I've suddenly become a little more employed. I've started working a few nights per week as the Theatre Liaison of the 110 person capacity theatre that is located in my apartment building. It works out great since if I feel a little panicky or overwhelmed I can excuse myself for 5 minutes chill-out time in my own apartment with my own kitties. I just make sure that whoever is renting the facilities are treating them with respect and are out of there on time. Sweet little gig, actually.

I'm also now part of my building's Resident Council (sorta like a co-op but different) and have taken a very pro-active approach to dealing with various issues with residents and the building itself. This is totally a volunteer situation and waaaay more work that I anticipated. But good work because being pro-active and solving problems makes me a happier camper overall. I'm also on a committee that is organising and participating in a 3 day Christmas Gala fundraiser for our building (to help subsidize rents) involving an art market and cabaret-style entertainment. I am ALSO treasurer for that which is something I've never done before and am a little nervous about. I continue to be an on-call emergency person in my building one week out of every month as well as work a couple hours per week for my dad.

Yikes, right? Busy but that scattered kind of busy.

So until the calendar is finished and all the surrounding press and products (cards and magnets) are completed I am not going to be posting as much as I'd like. Because my Theatre Liaison position is nights and weekends I am trying to borrow an old laptop so on my down time (when the productions are actually going on) I can maybe write a post or two but, in general, expect me to be scarce until the New Year.

Thanks for checking in and being so patient.

And now here are more Dexter photos and video than you can watch in one sitting.

My Own Personal Sistine Chapel

The Snoozen Housen Usurper Laughs Maniacally At His Sneakiness

'Tocks

Faceplant au Cheddar

Savouring The Deeeeelicious Full Footed Bouquet

Taken Just Now

One Of Those 'Life' Posts Filled With Questions That Have No Answers And Lots Of ' Marks

Do you ever find yourself in the same difficult and perplexing situations over and over again? You start to wonder if the universe is trying to teach you something or it is some heinous personal defect since the only constant element in all these situations is you.

Or in this case, me.

My particular situation is that am finding it increasingly difficult to be in the company of people.

I have a couple things going against me. First of all I have terrible social anxiety complicated by some pretty weird phobias. Any social situation is pretty agonizing on most levels. Secondly I am very sensitive to the emotions of others and so called ‘vibes’. Just very aware of the undercurrents of most interactions. Some therapists think this is why I have such bad anxiety. It is like I am lacking some sort of protective life filter.

That is another consideration as well. I’ve had a lot of therapy. A LOT. Some really bad but mostly good. I’ve learned a great deal about myself and the various limits and problems I deal with daily and as a result I am also able to recognize various psychological ‘issues’ (pronounced ithews) in others.

Let me give you an example. I have some family members who bicker a lot at family gatherings. You know, insults with smiling faces. They would also talk poorly about other family members behind their backs. When I first started seeing these people socially I would become seriously depressed for a day or two afterwards. On a couple occasions I was even teary. It got to the point where I would decline invitations to be social with them. With a couple therapy sessions I came to realize that bickering is the way some families show affection. Certainly not how I am comfortable with showing affection but each to their own, right? And I also learned that I could very subtly and politely show that I was not accepting of the negative talk about other family members. It totally worked and I am now able to be social with these people again.

The fact is that I was not raised to be assertive at all. I was raised to be ‘good’ and we all know that being ‘good’ often means being a doormat. For years I have not stood up for myself when being treated poorly and have swallowed all the emotions that go along with that. No wonder I have depression and anxiety, right? It is only in the last few years that I have stood up for myself and become pretty open about how I am feeling and, especially, how I want to be treated. As when anybody learns a new skill it is not always performed perfectly but overall I am happy with these changes. I’ve learned that not only am I a pretty quirky outspoken person with people I know and trust but in fact a leader in many respects opposed to the follower I always thought I was.

But here is the thing; I still am not sure how to deal with people who hold back from me. I’ve had a few friends/family members/acquaintances who I could sense were annoyed, displeased, or outright angry with me and for whatever reason couldn’t tell me so. I trust my gut that I am right about this and can probably guess what I had said or done to make them feel this way. Usually it is that I have an opinion that differs from theirs or have done something that they disagree with. And fair enough. I am happy to say that I am ok with all this and am totally happy to be disagreed with. I can safely be sure that I’ve not done or said anything out of malice or anger. Or it might simply be a misunderstanding. But they won’t tell me. They just start treating me differently. Sometimes it is just a feeling and sometimes it is outright passive aggressive behavior. In any case I just don’t know how to talk to somebody who cannot tell me what is wrong. And I hate being afraid to be myself and have my opinions and own ideas when I think they clearly are uncomfortable with that.

A few years back I had a very good friend who I met at work. We totally hit it off and became very close very quickly. We had a blast hanging out and were very similar in many ways. I totally trusted her and really felt like she had my back. After a couple years she seemed to be having some problems at work. I tried very hard to be supportive but found it very hard to know how to do that. So I just tried to listen and agree with her feelings. A few months went by and her behavior towards me started to change. I’d ask her if everything was ok and she’d say it was just work. But I knew it wasn’t. Unfortunately she decided to bring up everything that had been bothering her about me while we were on vacation together. Stuff that had happened over a year or two in the past and unto itself not a big deal but over time it had festered within her until it became so overwhelming she damned near lost her freaking mind. Her behavior scared me and after she brought up personal stuff I’d trusted her with and thought she accepted me for (mostly about the limits of my anxiety disorder) and then threw it in my face I knew I couldn’t save the friendship and I’ve never spoken to her since.

I hate that it got so out of hand. I really missed her but ironically not as much as I thought I would as I didn’t realize until I was out of the friendship how much I had to tippy-toe around her ‘stuff’. It was somewhat a relief in many ways to have her out of my life.

So what do you do when you just wish your friends/family/aquaintances would come out and say what they are feeling? How do you deal when you feel like you can’t be straight with them or else they will disengage or ‘punish’ you in some way?

Is this a common situation with friends and acquaintances or am I just some crazy lady? Is being up-front, honest with how I am feeling, and willing to talk about how we can agree to disagree maybe not a good thing?

Being with people is hard.

The Silence of the Hamstrings

I’ve never been one for video games nor do I salivate over the latest technology. I can’t say I’m afraid of it but have more of a certain distrust of The Hype and a desire to keep life pretty simple. I also don’t have a lot of disposable income. So the other day I noticed Dooce was giving away some Wii Fit sets and I immediately started to covet. Sadly being a Canadian resident I am not eligible for the contest. However, I suddenly decided that I desperately neeeeeed one of these things. Admittedly I’ve never tried one. I’ve never actually seen one in the shiny and plastic-y flesh. But for some reason I am absolutely convinced that this, THIS contraption is the key to my physical fitness reform.

I have a long and sordid affair with exercise that has left me wary as well as emotionally and physically beaten. It all started when I was born. I don’t have any other reason why I was never really adventurous physically or competitive on any level other than it has got to be missing from my DNA. Kids in the playground would run around screaming their fool heads off swinging on monkey bars and flinging their bodies in all sorts of dangerous ways and I was the one sitting off to the side with a book. As a child I was cautious and always afraid to get hurt. Perhaps it was that I was very small and not very strong. Or maybe it was that I was a city kid who wasn’t exposed to the great outdoors a lot. In any case I was, from an early age, an obvious target for ridicule and torment by ‘regular’ kids.

When I was 10 years old we moved from the city centre into a suburb and the new school had a very different type of Phys Ed curriculum. Specifically it was much more competitive, team based and not at all user friendly for geeky little wimps like me. Very soon I found myself caught up in a nightmare of bullying-verbal, physical and even, frankly, sexual from my classmates. It certainly didn’t help that my PE teacher laughed at my expense frequently and quickly nicknamed me ‘Useless’ in front of my peers. It got so bad that my younger brother soon was identified by this teacher as ‘Useless’s Brother’ and eventually transferred into a completely different school as following in the footsteps of my academic reputation was too unbearable to contemplate.

Some highlights of my PE classes were team captains arguing over who would NOT get to have me on their team. I also was kicked in the face causing my front tooth to crack and called a wuss when I asked to go to the school nurse. Good times. I could go on an on but I fear, should I do so, I may eventually find myself in the corner of my closet weeping and viciously stabbing my lone dusty pair of running shoes.

Later I was diagnosed with asthma which explained why my stamina wasn’t so hot but it didn’t take long before I was dreading PE to the point of other physical symptoms. Once at the doctor office I begged to be excused from PE class due to some small ailment. The doc sensed my desperation and asked me some pointed questions. I explained everything with tears rolling down my face and he wrote me a note excusing me from PE for the rest of my school life. And then the angels sang and the weight of the entire 6^th grade co-ed second period PE class was lifted from my shoulders. Literally.

A year or so went by and I joined a friendly neighbourhood girls softball team with much encouragement from my friends (AKA: peer pressure) and assurances (from my deluded parents) that it was all about having fun and it is not whether you win or lose but…say it now, people…how you play the game. I hated it and I totally sucked at it but I tried to be a good sport and did my very best, which was, obviously, not very good at all. Then one day I overheard the coaches talking about how they thought our team was ahead enough to put me on the field. I was so crushed and embarrassed and learned that for most obsessively competitive folk sportsmanship was a load of bullshit and even pot-bellied middle-aged coaches of girls softball teams only cared about winning.

So now I am an adult and as much I know that all that happened in the past is over and the bullies were a bunch of ass-wipes who are now probably meth addicts or in jail I STILL dread any kind of sports or exercise. I dread it, dread it, DREEEEEEAAAD EEEEET! I become paralyzed and absolutely refuse to participate in any kind of organized sports and fall into a shame spiral at the thought of working out.

I’ve tried all sorts of fitness regiments and I either hate it, can’t afford it, or I hurt myself. Damaged rotator cuffs and shin splints. I think I even broke my axel once. Pinched nerves and pulled muscles. $25 individual yoga classes which make you sweat. Crowded and smelly gyms where it is more about getting picked-up than getting fit. Driving in traffic and costly parking fees for specialty fitness centres catering to us gals who are chunky and just really want to be left alone when we copiously sweat while doing puny exercises with eeensy teensy weights. All of it = FAIL!

I get discouraged easily and bored almost immediately. And being prone to panic attacks in crowded and noisy places doesn’t help. But I have to GET OFF MY ASS! Some way, somehow. I’m putting on weight, I have arthritis in my foot and my right upper body is so stiff and sore from all my breast re-construction surgery even getting started on anything is daunting. I can’t even say I am out of shape as that would imply I once was fit. It feels like a lose/lose situation and I am not talking about the saddlebags below my hips.

But what? WHAT? What is out there for me that isn’t too hard, too expensive or too humiliating in some way?

And that is where the Wii Fit comes in. Yes, it is more than I can afford but it is certainly cheaper than a year’s gym membership. Bowling, boxing, tennis and yoga…interactive style! All sorts of fun stuff that I couldn’t and wouldn’t normally do right at my fingertips along with goals to set and achieve. My own little white cubic fitness instructor! It sounds like it just might work. Is this Wii Fit thing the way to go for a fitness-phobe like me?

Why I Love My Neighbours -Tuesday's Edition

Scene: Me and a well dressed older man in my apartment elevator. I've got my mail in my hand and he is holding a large platter of deli sandwiches.

Him: I'm the sandwich guy.
Me: Yes, I can see that.
Him: They are for a meeting. It's my turn to bring sandwiches.
Me: Well, they look very good. *being polite*
Him: Well, they are NOT for you. *being totally serious*

Another lady enters the elevator.

Her: Mmmmmm...whenever I see food I feel hungry. Those look delicious.
Him: *hostile look*

The Scoop, The Poop, The Skinny

*big sigh*

You have no idea how many times I've said to myself that I HAVE to update my blog and then get totally distracted and, well, don't.

So sorry.

Here is what is happening with me lately.

I am EXTREMELY busy.

Specifically I have, with very little notice, committed to participating in a craft fair. In theory this is a great thing. In practice it means I've been up to 2-2:30 am every night madly sewing stuff to sell. I've got lavender owls (Nighty Night Owls), little zippered pouches, fabric magnets and fabric grocery bags.

I seriously lost my mind and bought a total shit load of incredibly beautiful designer fabric (like several hundred dollars worth [I am a total fabric whore at the best of times but I went overboard with this]) planning to make billions of these bags. Well, it takes about 2 hours for each bag so I am totally running out of time before I am running out of fabric. I know I can sell stuff at the Christmas craft fairs but I really want to do well this weekend so I don't feel bad for buying so much.

You know, that evil mix of guilt and high expectations and stress? I call it 'Oh My God What Have I Done!?!' - That would be me.

Did I mention that somehow I got roped into the committee that is arranging this craft fair (actually they are calling it a Art Market but it takes everything I've got not to call it a Fart Market to their faces) (you know-because it rhymes) (and because I am a 10 year old boy deep inside) so I've got that on my mind as well.

And Oh YES! I've started a little job while not time consuming is also very much on my mind. And then all the work I am doing for UrbanBeast.ca is taking up some serious time.

So the poor blog is really being ignored. So is Yoshi who punished me by pooping on my bathmat the other day. The first time she has ever done anything like that in her 10 years on this planet. The same 10 years that nearly ended when I saw the poop. But it did work as I very quickly stopped ignoring her. Very loudly too.

Anyway, so that is my life right now. Please forgive my lack of updates.

Also anybody want to buy a fabric grocery bag or 6?

I'm Totally Seriously...

Guess what? Another migraine looms on my horizon so I am off to bed with more Tylenol 3s. However, I shall return tomorrow (or I guess today but later on, right?). In the meantime check this out. My cross-stitch was featured on this site.

A Lengthy Excuse

My typical Crush Your Cat's Head Friday post is MIA because of an unscheduled change in plans. Without warning it became Fall Asleep On The Couch Ridiculously Early Friday which unexpectedly turned into a Pukey Migraine From Hell Saturday. The next thing I knew it was the afternoon of Brutal Painkiller Hangover Sunday which then predictably lead to Catch Up On My Whole Life Monday.

Here is hoping that Running Errands All Over The City Tuesday will allow for an Obsessively Reflecting On My Boring Mundane Life Wednesday post.

Bet you can't wait.

The Written Equivalent to Nyquil

So I’ve been thinking a lot about what I could write about for my first official non-Yoshi related post for 2008. I was hoping to come up with a story from the holidays or some new personal conclusion for the New Year but I’ve got nothing. Well, nothing very interesting anyway. Things have been rather scattered lately and so have my thoughts. Not a bad thing but not great for a decent blog post. In point form here is what is new with me:

-I had a good Christmas with my family and there was lots of great food and company yet I emerged from the season feeling somewhat empty. This is nobody’s fault but my own. Despite my best intentions I got caught up in the petty stresses of the holiday worrying about shopping and The Perfect Gift and if this was enough for that person and that was too much for this person. You know what I mean. So I’ve decided that Christmas 2008 will be different. I don’t know what that will mean and what will change but I really want to regain some sort of joy and happiness in the whole process. There are no kids in my family so I cannot enjoy Christmas through their eyes. I am not religious so a church type holiday celebration won’t work. We’ll see. Maybe a trip. Maybe some volunteering. Maybe boycotting the whole thing. I don’t know yet…

-I went out of my comfort zone and attended a New Years Day dinner at my brother’s grandmother-in law’s house. Did you get that? Anyway, right at the beginning of dinner I had a raging panic attack, nearly gagged up my food and couldn’t eat for the rest of the night while doing everything in my power not to run screaming from the building. Fabulous.

-The Yoshi Calendar did very well! Thanks to everybody who bought one and/or pimped it to their friends and family. I sold out my small printing run of 250 and have blank note cards in the works featuring photos from the calendar. I’ll let you know when they are available. More stuff is in the works too. Hopefully T-shirts and some new photos featuring The Furface Herself.

-So yeah, about the above mentioned note cards. Just when I think I’ve got everything figured out and on a good time-line the little things always ferk me up. The packaging I ordered for the cards got lost by UPS and was delayed for over two weeks. The parcel showed up in shreds. The contents were alright but it really bugged me since they charge an exorbitant brokering fee to bring things over the border on top of hefty shipping costs. I’m thinking of getting a post box in Blaine, Washington and bringing things through customs myself. That would mean about a 1.5 to 2 hour round trip drive. Not sure if it would be worth it. No wonder everything in Canada is so damned expensive.

-AAAAAAND you’d think getting a common sized envelope in a colour other than white with some recycled content would be easy. Well, not so much. Once again I am struggling to find envelope suppliers in Canada (I’ve given up on something local) to meet my very basic needs. Of course the few I can find are in Ontario which means at least a week for shipping. I live in a big city! Why is this so complicated?

-It won’t stop raining out and on top of that it is also very cold.

-I got these awesome bed sheets for Christmas.

-I wish I knew Photoshop and how to do a web site and such. I have a great graphic designer friend helping me and I LOVE what she has done but I WANNA DO IT TOO! Collaborate! I love that stuff. I plan on taking a Photoshop course this year so I don't feel so ignorant.

-My dad’s hip is healing up well and he just started physio yesterday. They had him put some weight on his leg for the first time. This is good as the man is getting stir crazy not being able to get out and about.

-I got so brutally constipated over the holidays I had to go to the doctor. It is supposed to be the season for giving but my bowels were acting very selfishly.

Well, Yoshi is snoring on the chair behind me and it is almost midnight. Snooze time for me. This post probably put you to sleep as well. Good night!

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday*-Deck the Halls with Sounds of Snoring

*Dammit! Missed Friday by 2 minutes!

Clearly Very Excited About the Holiday Season

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Monday Edition

Feeling much better thanks! And to make it up to you for my lack of Friday posting I offer you a video. The lovely Leigh-Ann from The Blog Pound and Wee Paws Animal Sanctuary sent Yoshi a wonderful catnip toy for her to try out and give feedback on. Things didn't go quite as planned.

Who am I kidding? Yoshi pulls this shit all the time.

Right of Passage

I was not so fondly recollecting all my past wounds and woes a while ago and suddenly came to a startling realization; I am half cursed. Not wholly, completely or utterly cursed but only demi cursed. Specifically on my right side. If something is going to go wrong with me it disproportionately happens to the right side of my body.

For instance:

-Back in my college grocery gal days I pulled my right lower back and sprained my right wrist. I also got carpal tunnel syndrome in my right wrist after a couple years. Most of this can be explained as I am right handed so that side of my body would suffer the most wear and tear.

-Same when I got attacked by the huge dog. It ripped a chunk out of my right forearm and right foot. Also logical as you’d think that is what arm and leg I’d use to protect myself first therefore being first in the line of fire. But the dog also bit my left arm and didn’t break the skin.

-Once I fell and sprained my right foot. I’ve never sprained my left foot or wrist or anything on my left side at all.

-Then about 9 years ago I noticed a lump forming under the right side of my jaw which was diagnosed as an AVM. Had that surgically removed with no problems and didn’t think much of it.

-Then I was diagnosed with breast cancer. You guessed it. RIGHT BOOB!

-Recently I wrote about how I got the eyelid herp on…MY RIGHT EYE!

-Just a couple weeks ago I had to get a bone scan due to right foot pain which turns out to be arthritis. I am a little young for it but since it is on my right side I am not shocked at all.

-I nearly forgot to mention that when I get migraine headaches it is always on the right side of my head. Always.

-Then last week I got a staph infection on my thumb. Wait for it…MY RIGHT THUMB. And from that pain and stiffness has been creeping into my other fingers. Serves me right for hanging out at so many hospitals and clinics.

What the frick is this all about? Do I need to sprinkle salt on my right side? Or Holy Water, perhaps? Do I get a half price deal for a shaman to bless my right side? Do I have to do something about the left hemisphere of my brain to benefit my right bits?

Anybody got a theory?

Craptastic

Quite the day yesterday. Here is what happened.

1. Photographed the Yoshi calendar on Tuesday. Wasn’t happy with a lot of the first shots so I stayed up all night worrying and got up uber early yesterday and re-shot the whole thing again. Yoshi was not amused but did just fine and was a little furry trooper.
2. So while busy returning the camera gear and putting together all the appropriate images for my graphic designer friend I get a phone call… My dad is in the hospital emergency room. He fell while changing a light-bulb.
3. I run to the hospital and there he is all sad on a gurney. He has broken his hip. Fuck. I hang out there for a few hours.
4. Start making all the appropriate calls. My mom is on Vancouver Island on a mini holiday helping a friend and I can’t get in touch with her. Rally my bro and sis-in-law to “Man The Bedside” while I do some business stuff for my dad and deal with his car, his cell phone and his clients. Dad is feeling ok with just a couple Tylenol 3’s under his belt. All the nurses love him already.
5. Run to my parent’s apartment to get some stuff for him, make more calls, and email another client.
6. Go through a couple hundred photos and burn a disc to take to my graphic designer friend.
7. Return to the hospital with magazines, chocolate and books and hang out to 11 pm. Totally forget to eat all day. My thighs will thank me later.

So poor dad is going to have surgery today to replace part of his hip joint. The docs say despite his age (the nurses keep on betting each other to guess his correct age without looking at the chart. Nobody can believe he is 77. Most guess in the early 60’s range.) his bones are strong and his health is great so he’ll heal up fine and be out of the hospital early next week. He is in good spirits and pissed off and bored already. My mom should be home today in the late afternoon.

So between hospital visits, running my dad’s business and doing the Yoshi calendar I’m going to be scarce around these parts. I’ll update when I can.

A Karmic "Kick Me" Sign

I must have been real real bad in a previous life because the nasty stuff keeps coming my way.

So as you read in my last post the nasty peeper wanted to be my Facebook friend. I emailed him telling his that he was a “disgusting pervert peeping tom” and that under no circumstances would I ever want to be his friend-even through Facebook. I told him never to contact me again and I then blocked him.

It just wouldn’t have worked to accept his friendship request and then call him out that way as he could delete very easily anything I said about him.

I also don’t want to engage him in any way.

I’m working my ass off on the upcoming Yoshi Calendar and things are going slower than I hoped. I will start two months earlier next year. And to add to that time crunch starting Friday workmen will be coming into my little apartment to scrape the ceiling, patch the cracks and then re-texture. Did I mention my dining room table, set up with sewing machine and glue gun, is about 4 feet from where the work will be done? Crap! I have nowhere else to work while they are doing this so I will have to work around them somehow.

And then to add insult AND injury to this I had a wonderful little appointment with my doctor today. Thursday night my right eye felt sore and I noticed a bug bite sort of thing right near the corner of my eye. I put antibiotic ointment…

**MRTL Style Tangent-I love the word ointment. It is such a great combination of sounds. Say it to yourself a few times. Try some different accents. See what I mean? End of MTL Style Tangent**

..on it but it wasn’t getting any better. So off to the doc I went today and he took one look at it and told me what was wrong.

Eyelid herpes.

Yes, I have a cold sore on my eyelid.

Fuck.

Frantically, I told my doc that I practiced safe eye-socket sex (I put my whole head in a baggie for that) and he assured me that it is merely something I picked up from life. So every public door I opened, bank machine I used, grocery cart I pushed, second hand store I rummaged through (for props for the calendar), elevator button I touched, and piece of money I handled over the last few days flashed before my eyes and I got a little queasy. Then he told me I might have been infected years ago and only now having an outbreak.

I knew I was a germ-a-phobe for a reason, washing my hands several times a day and using that antibiotic stuff too. For NOTHING!!!! Dammit!

I have to be careful the infection doesn’t actually spread to my eyeball because that would be bad. *Big Sigh* Seriously, what did I do in a previous life to deserve this? I was probably one of those guys who didn’t wash their hands after peeing and then handled food or something. Or brought small pox to the natives.

At least it wasn't cancer.

I feel like a Petri dish. Please still be my friend.

Inbox Surprise

This nasty little pervert fucker just emailed me with a friend request from Facebook.

Fanfuckingtastic.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-MY HEAD is in Jeopardy Today

I’ve never claimed to be a patient person but right at this moment I am losing my fucking mind. So much so that Yoshi is in danger of a head crushing for reals. After my own head explodes.

Ok, here is the thing.

I went to sign-in to my Flickr account today and was immediately diverted to a Yahoo sign-in page. Ok, whatever. I know all about how these sites buy each other out so I did what they told me and signed into my Yahoo! account. It then took me to a page where it asked if I wanted to start up a new Flickr account or associate my old one with my Yahoo! account. Well, obviously, yes, I would very much like to merge the two accounts opposed to starting up a new one. So it asked me to provide my Flickr account ID and password to do that.

This is where it gets very ugly.

I have all my log-ins and passwords saved per Windows XP’s auto-prompt security feature so I haven’t actually had to physically type in my Flickr info since I started the account a few years ago. But for some reason when prompted this time to log into Flickr my computer didn’t automatically fill in my info. I had to do it manually.

No biggie because to keep things simple I use the same email address and password for pretty much everything frivolous like this. I know this is supposedly dangerous but I figure if anybody wants to hack into my Flickr account and mess with my Yoshi costume pics they can do it. It would probably crack me up more than annoy me.

So I entered my info and Flickr told me that it was wrong.

This is slightly possible as it has been a couple years since I had to type in this info myself and I might have done something different password-wise that long ago in a fit of originality. Yet I am about 95% sure I’ve got the right password. Sadly I am just not very original that often.

Well, it gives you the option to click on that dreaded “Lost Your Password?” link where you have to answer a bitch million questions to retrieve your info. So I did that and it gave me my info. Except it is the ID and password to my Yahoo! account and not my Flickr one.

WTF!?!

I tried it anyway to see if they had automatically merged my two accounts together and they now both had the same password but they don’t. It doesn’t work. I still get prompted to enter my original Flickr password etc. WHICH ALSO DOES NOT WORK!!! Because it is apparently wrooooooooonnnnggggg!

I have now entered a cyclic hell of internet password angst. I cannot access my Flickr page anymore and I cannot seem to find the right path to get that crucial info retrieved.

Can somebody heeeeeeellpp meeeee and get my frickin’ blood pressure down? I’ll bake you cookies!

Yoshi's New Favourite Sleeping Position:

Hiding Head From Potential Crushing

I just finished watching the entire first season of 'The Office' (US version) and can’t quite get that ucky feeling out of my gut. Don’t misunderstand. I laughed my ass off and really enjoyed the show but it is almost a little too lifelike in many ways. I guess that is the beauty of it. You watch and relate viscerally on some level based on your past or present experiences in the work-place. Those ugly and dark employee moments one tries to forget every Friday night at happy hour before you go home and have a real life on the weekend.

Here are just a few lovely work related past incidences I wish I could scour from my memory.

-When I was in high school I had a cushy summer job at a nearby town’s city hall. It was not unusual to find yourself sharing an elevator with the mayor. He was about a million years old and used to introduce himself to you no matter how many times he’d done so before. His typical greeting? A bone crushing in-every-sense-of-the-word handshake and a hearty, “You look like a fine group of young lads!” Friendly, yes, but we were all girls and we would be in skirts and blouses with purses and heels. I always wondered what he was like at city political functions.

-Once I made a mistake at work on a film. Not an earth-shattering mistake but a clear mistake on my part. I was spray-painting a pair of boots with fabric paint and I forgot to tape up the soles so some paint dripped under the shoes and got on the bottoms. I had the tape in my hand and got distracted and put it down and forgot to tape up the shoes. I also had a major migraine that day so I was kinda out of it anyway. But not a big deal as I very easily got some solvent and a cotton ball and removed the paint and everything was fine. Or would have been if I hadn’t been caught out by a co-worker. She wasn’t even part of my work area but she flipped out on my head anyway saying that I could get fired for that and if she was my boss I would be out of there and that it was unacceptable to give an article of clothing to an actor in that condition. I apologized to her and said that I had fixed it and it was all good. All day she would walk past me shaking her head, tsking and mumbling under her breath about how I had so royally fucked up. My boss knew about my error and was totally unconcerned so I ignored her. At the end of the day she started up on me again about how even though I was a newbie I couldn’t get away with doing something so stupid as this and wasting valuable time blah blah blah. The ironic part is that it probably took me less time to wipe off the excess paint with nail polish remover than it would have to carefully tape up the shoes and peel it all off afterwards. Nobody got hurt. Filming was not delayed or affected in any way. I didn’t wreck anything or cost the production money. I didn’t understand why she was going on and on and ON! So I turned to her and said, “Listen! I have apologized and apologized to you, which I didn’t have to because you are not my boss and I just don’t know what more I can say to you to convey that it was a MISTAKE! And I have learned from it and it won’t happen again. Let’s all just move on, shall we?” And she said to me, “Ok, ok! Maybe if you just dropped the subject and stopped making such a big deal out of it!”

Oh…my…god…

And the damned shoes never made it on screen anyway.

-Once a boss called me a “Dumb Shit” in front of customers and staff because a co-worker had snuck up behind me and noogied my ribs causing my arm to flail out and knock a box of little doo-dads all over the floor. Then she laughed along with the offending co-worker over his tickling maneuver.

-I had a boss who scheduled an inventory taking day on January 1^st. Yes, that would be New Year’s day. At 8am. And said that if any of us were even a minute late we would be fired. She then showed up 25 minutes late, no apology, while we all huddled outside in the cold waiting for her, very hung-over.

-I had a co-worker who, on a daily basis, would graphically describe to me and anybody within earshot what he imagined my breasts looked like.

-One boss berated me in front of my co-workers that the jeans I was wearing were too faded for work-wear. Never mind that my MALE co-workers, standing right next to me, were all wearing faded jeans too. They were exempt, I guess.

-I nearly got fired because my co-workers and I accidentally left the back loading door unlocked overnight. I was spared but not because I had only started working there a couple days earlier and not only didn’t have keys or the code to the alarm or any kind of locking-up responsibilities at all OR that I didn’t even know there was a loading door in the first place. No, I was kept on, as were my co-workers (who had keys and codes and knowledge about that stupid door), because it would have been too much of a hassle to hire and train new staff. I did get a royal chewing out though after which I had them show me the door they were talking about.

So tell me a personal 'The Office' moment that makes your eyes roll up into the back of your head.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Meltdown

Well, talk about technical difficulties...isn't there a pill for that? Oh, never mind.

Mrtl made a great new logo for Crush Your Cat's Head Friday but I cannot get it to work animation-wise on Blogger. It just shows up as an image. So please go here to see what was supposed to be posted here on Friday.

Thanks, mrtl, for your evil genius. Thanks, Blogger, for your buttheadedness. And thanks to anybody who can troubleshoot this animated gif issue for me.

Seriously People. SERIOUSLY!

Guess who showed up again today?

There I was, minding my own business when, with sirens blaring, the man who snubbed me showed up with all his buddies.

My first thought?

“WWWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT! What!”

What is wrong with this building?

So I got the cat carrier out again and located my shoes and purse expecting to be told to flee the premises any second because while there were two fire trucks outside our fire alarm wasn’t actually going off.

So I waited…

I watched the fire guys swarm out of the trucks putting on their gear and standing on the street looking up and pointing at the building. They were pointing above me so all I could think about was that the construction crew had set the roof on fire or something.

I didn’t know what the ‘or something’ would be but I could imagine it might be pretty damned bad.

Fuckity fuckity fucking fuck fuckers!

So the fire guys and random pedestrians are all looking up and pointing and milling about and all us tenants are standing on our balconies craning our necks to see what they seem to be looking at and totally clueless about what the frick is going on…

Until one of the bystanders noticed something. A totally different building about 2 blocks away that seemed to be leaking black smoke from one of its apartments.

Oh!

They got the wrong building.

Yeah…they get a call to the area and just automatically assume it is my building that is the culprit.

The manly men got back into their trucks and turned on the lights and sirens and toodled off to the actual emergency.

I am so proud of the legacy my little lodge is creating in the neighbourhood. The building that cried, “Fire!”

In a Nutshell.

It is alive…ALIVE!

Many apologies for the appalling lack of posting. I have entirely lost my ability to make my boring every day life seem remotely interesting. Thoughts have been popping into my head here and there and I’ve been posting those through my Twitter feature on the right hand side of my blog.

But in a nutshell this is one of the highlights of my last week

We had another little fire incident at the apartment. Not the scale that went down last August but nevertheless a pain in my ass because each of these wee situations requires me to walk down and up many flights of stairs carrying a cat in a box. Most of the time I ignore the fire alarm as it usually is a result of construction happening on the roof. This time it all unfolded a little differently.

So I was getting into bed at about 11:30 pm and once I turned off the TV and got all snuggled in I noticed the distant sound of a smoke detector. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from as sound bounces around strangely in the ‘hood due to all the high-rise apartment buildings. So it could be coming from my building, the building across the street or the building 3 blocks away. You just never know.

So I ignored it.

20 minutes later the smoke detector was still going off. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….

I got out of bed and stood on my balcony to see if I could see or smell anything. Or tell where this noise was coming from. No clue.

I got back into bed.

10 minutes later the noise was still going. I got out of bed and got my shoes on and went out into my hallway. Not coming from anybody on my floor. I went out to my balcony again and it was louder there. And now I can smell burning food. Hmmm. But there is a huge hotel and several restaurants nearby so I could be catching a whiff of their evening menu.

I went back into the hallway. At this time I briefly considered getting into the elevator and going to each floor to check if something was going down flame-wise. Then I thought to myself, “Why am I always the one taking care of things? If something is going wrong on another floor then it is those tenants responsibility to handle it. Butt out and let somebody else deal with it for a change.” This attitude comes from where I used to live where I was the only one who ever dealt with problems with the landlord. Everybody else just let their sinks leak and their toilets run and the basement flood.

Also if I was in the elevator when the fire alarm was pulled I’d be automatically sent to the lobby at which time I’d have to climb all those flights of stairs again to get the damned cat in her damned box only to have to go back down all those stairs again and so on and so on…

I am a lazy and bitter asshole. Whatever.

But what I did do was lay out a full set of nice clothes including shoes and put my purse by the door making sure I had my wallet and cell phone in it. I took the cat carrier out of the closet and set that up for a quick get away.

Then I went back to bed.

The smoke detector continued to eeeee in the background for another 10-15 minutes and then the fire alarm went off.

At this point it was about 12:30 am. I was pissed.

I got dressed, hauled the terrified cat out from under the bed and crammed her into the box, slipped on my shoes and coat, slung my purse over my shoulder and trudged down the stairs.

Once outside the building I was surrounded by folks wearing housecoats and slippers.

I laughed at them. In my mind. Smugly, I was standing there all dressed in matching garments and a warm jacket. I got some dirty looks. Quickly, I put on my “concerned for others’ wellbeing” face and settled myself on the nearest cement curb. I made sure the very old and frail lady next to me was ok and didn’t need her heart medication and waited for the hunky fire-guys to show up.

They showed up and checked the building. Turns out somebody burned the shit out of their hotdogs. That is the story anyway, but I suspect something else went down that somebody isn’t willing to admit to (hotdogs =bong) as I don’t get how somebody could let their smoke detector go off for an hour. You’d think they’d open a window, wave a tea towel at it and smack it with a broom handle. Like it says in the instructions, right?

Trying to be helpful I had a chat with one of the particularly cute fire guys telling him how long the alarm had been going off etc. knowing that I alone was the only one fully dressed and accessorized due to my disaster fashion planning and thereby the most attractive of all my neighbours.

He did not succumb to my charms. I chalked it up to work pressure.

I walked back up all those flights of stairs, got back into my PJs and taking off my glasses to get back into bed touched my cheek and realized the whole time I had some very greasy cold-cream smeared all over my face. Akin to the shiny effects of Vaseline applied liberally on one’s skin. Yes, that was me.

Talking to cute fire guy.

With goop on my face.

Thinking I was the shit.