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.

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?

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.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-A Piss in the Hand is Worth Two in the Litter Box

So Yoshi turned 10 years old on Monday and we celebrated with a can of crab (which she turned her nose up at) and a call from the on-call vet with a diagnosis of severe urine crystals. He seemed quite concerned and hoped Yoshi was feeling better. I had to explain that Yoshi is feeling just fine and has no symptoms at all of this condition. I just had the testing done as a routine thing at her last check-up. He was confused and told me to make the cat drink more water to flush those little suckers out.

Yeah...ok.

So she has a lovely brand new water fountain which she sniffs at and perhaps touches her tongue to but otherwise pretty much ignores. So it just sits there making gurgling noises which inspires a somewhat uncomfortable feeling in my bladder leading to the occasional pee pee dance.

I've now changed her diet from mostly dry kibble with a small serving of canned food to a very smelly large bowl of watered down canned food and a few nuggets of dry featuring actual flavour and texture. And did I mention water? Lots of water.

It is all about the water. And keeping me paranoid.

Did you know that you can't even lead a cat to water let alone make the little turd drink?

I now lurk around her litter box making sure she isn't in any pain or discomfort when she takes a wazz. She seems fine except for the very telling embarrassed posture of her tail. Madam desires privacy and what I am doing feels worse than reading a child's diary. Way worse and much weirder.

If I don't chill out I may be pissing diamonds myself before long.

Your concern bores me.

You have got to chillax.

Sparkly Pee Pee - I Has It.

The Curse Continues

It has been a less than fun week for me. I got sick. Quite sick. In fact 2008 will forever be remembered as The Year I Puked On My Birthday And I Wasn’t Even Drunk. And if you don’t know me then you cannot fully understand how traumatic this was on a couple levels.

First of all I suffer from this pretty severely. And as such I will not get into my particular lurgie with any great details. Secondly it was my 39^th birthday. The LAST YEAR I will be in my 30s. A dinner party was planned and had to be cancelled. In fact my whole birthday weekend was a complete blur of ick and grossness.

I woke up Saturday (March 1-my birfday) quite early with terrible cramps. Whole torso cramps opposed to your typical gurgley tummy type situation. Only now that I am feeling better do I understand how sick I really was as I simply laid in bed, labour breathing through each spasm, idly thinking, “Hmmmmm…I wonder why my stomach feels so bad.” Opposed to say, calling 911 or getting my ass to my doctor.

I eventually called my folks to let them know that I was likely not going to make it to dinner citing ‘gas pains or something.’

I then took some Tylenol 3s and dozed for awhile.

Other than the cramps I felt fine.

Then I got out of bed and walked around a little.

Big mistake.

Gravity was the final incentive my gut needed and I experienced the worst Thunder From Down Under in my life. Thinking it was a good idea to drink a little to keep hydrated it was then I was joined by a disgusting rally from the northern regions.

The next few days were unpleasant to say the least.

As such I was unable to attend the Apartment Blessing and remain cursed. I wonder if my stomach flu was a clever ‘spirit ploy’ to keep me from the ceremony thereby reducing the youthful (borderline) energy I would have contributed to banishing the bad vibes or simply a pesky Norwalk virus compliments of the old people in my building. Either way, well played intestinal horrors, well played.

An Update: In Case You Were Wondering

So Yoshi seems to have bounced back from her tummy bug and is almost back to eating normal amounts. Sadly, my paper towel supply is sorely depleted and my carpet will never be the same again. Thanks for all your get well wishes.

You may have noticed that I twittered that I was off to the cancer clinic for an appointment. I am still going every 3 months for check-ups and so far they seem very happy with my progress. I found out something interesting as far as how they calculate survivorship, though. I’ve been counting my cancer-free status since I got the all-clear pathology test after my mastectomy in Feb. 2006. It turns out they start your cancer free countdown from your very first cancer positive biopsy test. Makes no sense to me but that is how they roll in Cancerland. So according to them I’ve actually been cancer-free (or whatever they call it) for 3 years. I thought it was 2 years next week. Hmmmm…3 years works for me!

Anyway, I think I posted a TMI list a few weeks back stating that Christmas not only brought me yummy food and great gifts but also a very grinchy bowel. I’m still trying to inspire, um, generosity in that area so I’ve been scheduled for a CT scan in a few weeks to check out all those important bits in my tummy. Nobody expects nastiness there (my blood tests came back normal) but once you’ve had cancer these everyday aches and pains cause worry and stress and, very rarely, might mean something more serious. So I have that to look forward to. It means a very early morning, large amounts of water to consume and a lot of waiting around. Well worth the peace of mind.

And thanks for all your good luck wishes to me too. Yoshi and I are so lucky to have you.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-*drool*

Postponed due to superfabulousfeeln'goodwannalaydown migraine meds. Will crush Yoshi once spinning stops.

Weeeeeee!

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.

Booby Update With Knocker McHooterson

I haven’t bored you all lately with whinging and gory details about my tits. I plan to remedy that right this second.

I went to my very cute plastic surgeon the other day and he said we are all good to go with Operation (literally) Nipple. My Barbie boobs are soon to be one step closer to the real deal. No date yet but probably near the end of summer. I don’t like to think about it much as it involves my skin and a sharp scalpel. I plan to be drunk for the procedure.

Something else that has been new for me is menopause. Yes, that is right. I am 38 years old and in menopause. Voluntarily I might add. My breast cacner is HIGHLY estrogen receptor positive which means estrogen will cause the cancer to grow. Of course being a younger gal I would have more estrogen coursing through my body than post menopausal chicks. One of the ways they deal with removing that estrogen from my body is through a drug called Tamoxifen. I take that every day and will have to for 5 years. With Tamoxifen your ovaries can produce as much estrogen juice as they want and the drug will remove it. An oversimplification but I am boring myself just typing this out. I hate to loose you all to a narcoleptic reaction. Anyway, another method to reduce estrogen is to turn off the ovaries completely. You can get them removed which some ladies do or you can get an injection (every month or 3 months) in your stomach that turns your ovaries off through your pituitary gland. Men who have prostate cancer can take the same drug to shut down their man bits too. Anyway, I decided to stalk and beat down all the estrogen in my body both ways so as of the beginning of the year I’ve been getting these injections every month.

Well…

I can say that menopause has some good points. No more monthly angst, mood swings or cramps. No more frantic trips to the drug store for FHP. That would be feminine hygiene products for you XY chromosome readers. So that part is alright. The bad part is that when a lady goes through menopause naturally it happens fairly slowly. The body eeeeases into it over time. With my injection I got slammed into it. In a matter of a couple of weeks. The result? Can you say hot flash? Summer heat has taken on a whole new level of discomfort. Holy fuck! I didn’t know a person could sweat so much without any exertion at all. I look like one of those Gatorade ads where the very toned and muscular athlete is chugging back a bottle of much needed fluid while rivulets of sweat course down their body after running a marathon. Well that would be me except that my body is flabby and slightly fat and I am sitting on the couch watching Miami Ink.

There are a few things I do to cope. And by cope I mean sit there complaining, flapping my hands at my face and armpits and wiping off my soaked brow on the cat. I drink lots of cool water. I fan myself with silly cutesy fans I buy from Chinatown. And I laugh. I have a theory that the laughing releases endorphins which in turn will make the feeling of my head bursting into flame vaguely pleasurable.

Now the logical thing to do would be to get some sort of remedy for hot flashes, right? Nope. You see those medications (even the natural ones) are filled with either natural or synthetic hormones and I can’t have those in my body again. It would be defeating the whole point of the injection and Tamoxifen. So I am stuck. And sticky.

I sleep (when I do sleep as menopause also causes insomnia) without sheets or blankets. The cat no longer snoozes with me as I inevitably toss and turn and boot her hot and furry ass off the bed. My underwear is damp along with the rest of my clothes both day and night. I smell.

You’d think producing that kind of heat would burn calories thereby causing weight loss. Oh no. It doesn’t. Not at all. Crap.

Hey! I am having a hot flash right now. They are worse at night. I don’t know why.

And the beauty of it all is that is that these injections are usually prescribed for only two years so I could return to normal when I stop and then have to re-go through menopause all over again when it happens permanently.

I am pretty sure if men got these things there would not only be a cure but it would involve a fairly sizeable Hot Flash Compensation Package.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Monday's Dose of Brutal Karma

Yeah, Friday's crushing photo. Umm.... I have two words for you.

Bitter Irony.

I woke Thursday to a migraine headache that proceeded to get worse and worse over Friday and the weekend and even today my head throbs and tingles. Hence no cute photo of Yoshi.

God is crushing my head.

I've been cosmically busted.

FINALLY!! Pokey McSlowerson

Here it is! What you've been waiting for. A piccie of my post reconstruction hooties and post chemo hair grow-out. I am wearing pink to celebrate with Sharkey. Also because it makes me look hawt. Or maybe that is the hot flashes.

~Nipples Not Included~

A Small Gesture

I remember when I was going through cancer treatment all your comments, emails, care packages and phone calls meant so much to me. Feeling isolated is very common as well as feeling useless while you just wait for your treatment to do its thing in your body.

Recently I saw on another blog (which I cannot find again so if it was your blog give me a shout out so I can credit you) as well as on my local news station a story about a young boy, Shane Bernier, in Eastern Canada undergoing very difficult treatment for Leukemia. It is his 8th birthday on May 30th and he is trying to break the word record for the most greeting cards received.

The funny thing (funny odd not funny haha) is that a few years ago I worked on the film about the boy in England, Craig Shergold, who now holds the new Guinness World Record of 350 million cards while he was undergoing treatment for a brain tumour several years ago. It was called 'Miracle of the Cards'. Ah yes, the interconnectedness of all things.

So I ask you fabulous supportive people to, if you can, pop a card in the mail for this little guy.

Shane Bernier
PO Box 484
Lancaster, Ontario
K0C 1N0
Canada

Here is a video featuring the news story I saw.

You guys KICK ASS!

On a Roll

I have been very remiss in my blogging duties lately and each night I fully intend to sit down and write something highly interesting, intellectual and introspective but then suddenly see something shiny out of the corner of my eye and I thereby enter a trance-like state of sorts and forget all about my blogging intentions.

The fact is this; for some reason I am going through a highly Energetic Phase which is very unlike my normal Every Day Lethargic Phase for the last couple years. Between breast cancer, multiple treatments, 5 surgeries, horrific anxiety and my very own personal pity party I have been sitting on my ass watching a lot of TV lately and doing very little else. Why so hyper now? I am not sure if it is Springtime, my fabulous antidepressants kicking in or melamine poisoning in my Wheaties causing me to feel able to get vertical but I am not wasting this energy spike by trying to ascertain its cause.

Here is a list of what I have been up to the last couple weeks:

-completely cleared out my closet and all my drawers resulting in 3 black garbage bags of old clothes and stuff to be given to charity as well as a huge bag to be thrown away.

-drove all that stuff to the Salvation Army.

-multiple trips to IKEA for all those little bits I desperately need to make my house a home blah blah blah (totally falling for marketing hype).

-2 trips to the vet with dogs and cat (my friend’s animals which includes Lulu) for the dogs’ booster shots and tests for the cat who perhaps was fed tainted food. The cat is not poisoned but has urinary crystals. He also has a very bad case of the grumpies.

-2 trips each week to therapy plus a routine check-up at the Cancer Agency (everything is fine) as well as an appointment at my brain doc for happy meds. I also had a visit from my fabulously nice home care nurse (actually he is a murse [man nurse]) for my monthly injection to put me in menopause. That is a whole other post which I will get to another day when I am not having a hot flash. I also got my eyes tested. Still blind.

-plucked my eyebrows.

-went to Canadian Tire for compact fluorescent light bulbs (to do my bit for greenhouse gasses), bins for organising my storage locker, and fabulously cool new windshield wipers.

-repaired a chip in my bathtub as well a fixed caulking issues with precise wielding of razor blade.

-did my income tax return.

-organised my filing cabinet.

-vigorously brushed cat and then vacuumed for hours picking up all the mini Yoshi’s rolling around.

-recovered cat scratching post with new carpet.

-spent several hours going through all sorts of my stuff which was damaged by a water leak in the basement several months ago and put everything in plastic bins. Threw out 2 black garbage bags of moldy papers and photos.

-helped my folks clean on two different days.

-washed my car inside and out which took 3 hours. Went as far as to use Q-Tips for crevices. Also cleaned all the junk from my trunk and vacuumed there too.

-obsessively researched the prices of new eyeglasses online (see above blindness issues).

-watched the entire second season of Grey’s Anatomy on DVD. Now has unhealthy crush on Denny Duquette character.

-dumped out and washed all my spice jars. I am getting fresh contents so I am inspired to cook more.

-cleaned up and rewired nice lamp I found by the dumpster.

-attended a 3 hour course.

-bought two gifts in two different parts of town.

-did research for my business plan.

-cleaned my apartment in a very anal manner.

-completely disconnected my computer and all the peripherals and reconnected them in an obsessively tidy way including a revolting amount of zip ties.

-went on mini shopping trip at great store in crappy part of town. Got good deals but almost got mugged.

-read 6 books.

-polished my stainless steel cutlery.

-shopped online for Father’s Day and Christmas presents. I KNOW! Sick.

And tomorrow I am taking my car in for repairs, getting my hair coloured and washing all my floors. Then sometime over the next week I will be helping my mom make a new bed skirt, shopping for new eyeglasses, taking the dogs to the dog park, getting my clothing dryer fixed, researching materials for my business plan which means visiting distant warehouses, attending physio for my shoulder affected by my last reconstruction surgery, driving an hour to a nearby town to see my friend’s new puppy, going back to IKEA to exchange a lamp shade once they get new stock, making pillow covers, getting a pedicure and a bikini wax, buying some little replacement bits for my car and fixing my fax machine.

I cannot stop doing stuff.

It is kinda cool.

More Rant For Your Buck

Part 2 of Thursday’s Rant.

So here a little story about what happened to me when I went to the local health food store for a bottle of acidophilus pills.

Several months before I was diagnosed with cancer I decided to visit the health food store as my stomach had been giving me some trouble. Certain foods seemed to make me feel bloated and out of sorts. I thought a simple little bottle of acidophilus might get my gut bacteria back on track again. Nothing else major was going on with me health-wise to cause me concern. The lady who ran the store was very helpful and started asking me all sorts of questions while looking my symptoms up in a very well thumbed reference book she had behind the counter. With such vague symptoms like bloating and strange pooping issues and burping she told me that I needed digestive enzymes as well as the acidophilus. Then she said I needed activated charcoal as well. Then she said I needed a colon cleansing kit as well. That means a special diet and many pills over a 10 day period to literally clean your bowels out.

I told her that I had done a digestive cleanse twice in my life and with the second one I had to stop within just a couple days because I got such bad abdominal cramps. Like so bad I couldn’t stand up kind of cramps. She then went on to say that maybe I needed a liver cleanse as well. So many ‘as wells’ that had upped my potential bill to well over $200. I told her I didn’t think my liver was an issue and that I thought I’d just stick with my original plan to do acidophilus pills.

Well, the nice lady put down her book and took out a quartz crystal on a chain and proceeded to ask the crystal what kind of treatment I really needed.

!

I have to admit that when I was very much younger my friends and I would use this pendulum fortune telling trick when asking excruciatingly important questions about boys but I had never thought to use it for diagnosing health problems. Yeah, I used such bizarre diagnostic tools like doctors and blood tests and such. If I’d known that a crystal could have done the same trick I might have saved myself all those pesky appointments.

Anyhoo…

So The Crystal told this nice lady that it was indeed my liver and that I needed a liver cleanse and other liver type supplements. And PRONTO!

While I was pretty much secretly snickering into my sleeve and faintly embarrassed over the situation I found myself in I told the nice lady I wasn’t going to buy all the stuff she wanted me to but I would do a cleanse and then come back for some acidophilus later. So the lady and her crystal recommended an extra gentle cleanse that would benefit my digestive tract AND my liver. Kill two birds blah blah blah…

Normally I would have just walked out and gone somewhere else so I could just buy my goddamned bacterial culture tablets in peace but I had been reading on a few blogs that other people had been doing cleanses as well and I thought, “What the heck?” Let’s try a cleanse as it might just do the trick.

So I got home and took my first course of pills and settled in for a night of laundry and TV watching. Within a few hours it was time to take my second course of pills which I did with a very simple veggie and rice dinner. So far so good.

I was feeling a bit queasy and unsettled by bedtime but I was feeling that way before I started the cleanse and that was why I wanted the acidophilus in the first place. So I didn’t really think much of it.

I woke at 2 am with a most terrible headache. I took a couple Tylenol but the pain got worse and worse very quickly. Really awful pain which made me rock in bed with a pillow over my face while crying. Like really bad. Now I’ve had migraines several times in my life and this was worse and very different from a migraine. This felt like my whole head was going to explode. For reals.

Then I got nauseous. Brutally nauseous. Then I started barfing. Barfing is not pleasant at the best of times but when your head is exploding it takes on a new level of hellishness. I felt absolutely vile.

Then the diarrhea started…and I officially entered a trifecta of physical nastiness.

I don’t remember much detail of that night but I do vividly recall washing my face in cool water in my bathroom and looking up into the mirror. What I saw shocked and, frankly, fascinated me. My skin colour was grey. Literally grey. A dark bluish grey. With a lovely tinge of green. I had never seen skin that colour ever. Well, that is not entirely true. I had seen corpses that colour on TV detective shows. You know the ones that have been left outside for a couple days? That colour. And it was now my very own personal colour. It was totally surreal.

It was at this time I thought that maybe I should go to the emergency room. What I did instead was take a shwack of codeine painkillers and pass out from sheer exhaustion.

The next day I did go to my doctor and he told me what had likely happened. He believed that I had a severe reaction to an herb in the cleanse, likely the burdock root, which made my blood pressure go up. Not just a little bit but dangerously high. I could have very easily had a stroke. Probably my young age and general good health saved me. Even 12 hours later my blood pressure was VERY high. And my doc was VERY upset. I didn’t dare tell him that I had done the cleanse on the advice of a crystal.

I returned the unused portion to the health food store and told the nice lady (and her crystal) what had happened. She started to cry. Maybe she thought I’d sue her. I just wanted my money back. I still wanted my acidophilus pills.

With this experience under my belt you can imagine how annoyed I get when people tell me (like my neighbour) that I should take ‘harmless’ herbal remedies for whatever ails me. People who look stuff up on the internet and consider themselves experts. Like the internet is a reliable source of information. HA! Very, very dangerous. There is also this belief that herbs and natural supplements are “safer” than Western medicine medications which is very untrue and a very dangerous assumption as well. I could have died from my ‘safe’ herbal remedy and I wouldn’t have been the first. People die from taking or mixing drugs both natural and ‘manufactured’ all the time. One must remember that herbal supplements are not tested or regulated by the FDA. Anybody can say that an herbal medication can do anything and do not have to prove it through tests and trials. Herbal supplements are also not quality controlled for potency or dosage like FDA regulated medications are.

So did I find a point to my tale? Yes, I did. Several points in fact. My points are these. Be smart. Don’t assume. Get your info from reputable sources and that DOESN’T include the internet. Anybody can post anything on the internet. When you read reference books check their sources and read those books as well. Don’t get lulled into a false sense of safety. Educate yourself and keep an open mind while doing it. And don’t listen to crystals no matter what they tell you.