I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been praying’ for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
Johnny Nash – I can see Clearly Now
Good Morning. Let the stress begin…
My first inclination is to describe 2015 as an “annus horibilis”.
Certainly there were enough bad things going on to warrant it. Continue reading
When I heard of the attacks in Paris, my heart broke. Is this what the civilized world had come to? Yet junior seemed unmoved.
While watching the CBC, tears streaming down my face, I worried about my friends, my friend’s friends, my family in DK, my family in Italy. Where would the cowardly acts of stupidity stop?
Junior says, “It’s not happening here, it’s not happening to people I know. I’ll save my tears for then, otherwise I’ll run out of tears.” I understand that. He’s watched me cry for almost a decade but I haven’t run out yet. Continue reading
I call the place I live the damp coast for a reason. It rains. A lot.
Winter is wet, Spring is wet. June is wet. We like to call it June-uary.
Normally our summers start in July, if we’re lucky. August can be dodgy; September and October are cool but usually lovely. I remember one November where it rained for 20 days solid.
But this year the sun started shining in April. And it hasn’t stopped since.
Something has changed. This year we are having an endless summer. Continue reading
Once the cancer was gone, how could I remove it from my mind?
The cancer agency is an all encompassing body which decides each step for a patient. There’s usually a flurry of activity and then you wait until there’s a spot for you. Apparently cancer is a huge business. I was informed that the local cancer agency made about $200,000 off my treatment. None of which went into patient well-being that I could see. All services that helped patients deal with the mental onslaught of cancer were provided by volunteers.
And onslaught it is. There were times I felt bullied by the medical staff, made to feel afraid. Afraid of making my own decisions about how may body was going to be treated. Afraid of going against what the doctors recommended. I was made to feel that if I went against the norm, I was doing so at my own peril. Continue reading
Once the operation was over, I was foisted back onto the cancer waiting list. This time it was for radiation treatments.
When the cancer mill starting turning again for me, my first appointment was meeting the radiation oncologist, Dr. C. She was going to determine how long and how much radiation my poor breast would receive. I had read in the literature that additional treatments in the form of supplements may also be required. I had decided that I was not going to take any chemical substances, some of which had brutal side effects. I was going to try a more natural approach. I noted it on the forms I filled in for Dr. C. Continue reading
After the Big C diagnosis, I moved into the no man’s land where time is not your own. It’s like being a child again and having mom and dad scheduling your day. The difference is you’re not being scheduled for fun stuff.
Cancer has entered my life, twice. The second time with cancer was very traumatic. I explored many avenues to heal myself, both mentally and physically. I wanted to make sure that my second round with cancer would be the final one.
My naturopath told me that my lung meridian was holding an enormous amount of sadness. Unloading the sadness would elevate my body to the next healthier level. He thought it could be related to my second go round with the big C, breast cancer.
So, with wasband now history, and myself moving into a more positive phase in life, it would be worth unloading some more baggage. It is time to write about my big C, take 2. Continue reading
Some things are not good the second time around. Cancer is one of them.
April, on the Damp Coast, is cancer month. So for the whole month of April there are events, fund raisers, people begging for money on behalf of all things related to cancer. For me, it’s very irritating. I understand the need for people to try to do something about a disease that makes people feel completely helpless. But my experience is that it seems all the money collected doesn’t always make it down to the patient level.
