Just when I think I'm making progress, I experience a set back. The latest is minor, yet embarassing.
Last Thursday in step class, I was tired. Some days are better than others when it comes to energy levels and exercise. The end of the class was approaching and, despite being tired, I pushed myself towards the finish. But when I get tired, I get clumsy.
Instead of planting my foot flat, I stepped down on the left side of my left foot. Next thing I knew, I was lying flat on the floor to the chorus of collective gasps from other steppers on my side of the gym. When the instructor realized what happened, she rushed over and proceeded to ensure I was okay, insisting I sit against the wall and sending someone for ice - all while her microphone was still active.
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me then and there.
After the class was complete (I missed five minutes), I had to sit in the gym icing my ankle for 20 minutes while fellow gym rats (many of whom I know) walked by and commented. Yup, I'm the clumsy one. Yes, I hurt myself. No, it's not too bad (I think). How embarassing.
The instructor, for some reason, seemed to feel guilty that I got hurt in her class. Please. It was my own fault and theoretically could have happened to anyone. She even regaled me with a story of how she went flying off the step while she was teaching a class. I guess it can happen to the best of us.
I think I stretched some ligaments. It's still slightly sore, but I can walk. But it's derailed my gym excursions for about a week. Sheesh. But I guess it's better to be on the sidelines for a little while instead of going back to working out too early and injuring myself further.
While a workout injury can happen to anyone, I still feel dumb. Oh well, it's not the first time and it certainly won't be the last.
Tina
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Welcome spring
With the warmer weather this week, I'm filled with a sense of hope and renewal. That's what spring is all about - especially in Canada.
This eagerly-anticipated season brings the re-emergence of flowers, the colour green and sunshine. Warmth returns, which means we get to banish those heavy coats, woolies and finger-warming gloves to the backs of our closets.
It doesn't hurt that I've also banished my cancer to the back of my mind. As a result, I'm optimistic about the future and making plans, which feels good.
Spring re-awakens nature, but it also affects us emotional humans. I'm noticing a spring in my step, a smile on my face and a cheerier attitude at the prospect of 20C. And it's just in time for Easter.
I eagerly anticipate summer. Last year, with its rainy, cool days and my treatment regime, the summer was terrible. My favourite season was a wash out. So, I look forward to a warmer and brighter summer.
Of course, it still won't be perfect because of my mom's chemo treatments. I lament she has to go through them. But - and I speak from experience here - it's far better to go through all the side effects during the nicer months. I couldn't imagine the pain and depression during a dark, cold month like February.
Bring on the nice weather, Mother Nature. I welcome it and the good feelings it brings.
Tina
This eagerly-anticipated season brings the re-emergence of flowers, the colour green and sunshine. Warmth returns, which means we get to banish those heavy coats, woolies and finger-warming gloves to the backs of our closets.
It doesn't hurt that I've also banished my cancer to the back of my mind. As a result, I'm optimistic about the future and making plans, which feels good.
Spring re-awakens nature, but it also affects us emotional humans. I'm noticing a spring in my step, a smile on my face and a cheerier attitude at the prospect of 20C. And it's just in time for Easter.
I eagerly anticipate summer. Last year, with its rainy, cool days and my treatment regime, the summer was terrible. My favourite season was a wash out. So, I look forward to a warmer and brighter summer.
Of course, it still won't be perfect because of my mom's chemo treatments. I lament she has to go through them. But - and I speak from experience here - it's far better to go through all the side effects during the nicer months. I couldn't imagine the pain and depression during a dark, cold month like February.
Bring on the nice weather, Mother Nature. I welcome it and the good feelings it brings.
Tina
Friday, March 26, 2010
Keep making memories
It sometimes takes the experiences of others to shine a spotlight on our own lives and our own fortunes.
This week, dear friends, Diane and Pete were suddenly called back to Edmonton because Pete's dad was dying. They made it back just in time, and got to spend a little bit of time with him and say their goodbyes before he drew his last breath.
This reality made me examine my own family situation and realize I'm very, very lucky to have both my parents still in my life. They did a good job raising my sister and me (even if I do say so myself), and are wonderful and involved in the lives of their five grandchildren. Even if my mom is battling cancer, she's here and we still get to enjoy the pleasure of her company.
Michael's parents are also both alive and kicking. We just went on a great holiday with them, they're very helpful and involved in the lives of our kids, and we're lucky to have them.
I have memories of all four of my grandparents. The most faint are those of my Grandma Pauwels (my mom's mom) who died of ovarian cancer when I was seven. Yes, I have her side of the family to thank for the evil BRCA-1 gene. I remember her colouring with me and I think I still have the beautiful picture of a sea shell she worked on in a box in my basement. I also remember her hovering around the stove cooking.
A sudden heart attack took my Grandpa Pauwels when I was in grade 8. He was a bit gruff, often rubbing his rough stubble against my tender cheeks. He loved his homemade beer and boisterously played cards. But he was loving and generous, always slipping a bill between my fingers, or sponsoring my swim-a-thon or other fundraising function. He was also the only person who called me "Tina Marie" with regularity, which I hated. But of course, grandfathers can get away with lots of things.
The loss of my Grandma Thomas just before I graduated from grade 12 was traumatic. She was the grandparent who was most influential in my life. She was always cooking and baking - she made the most amazing chocolate cake and buns in the world!
I remember her babysitting us, braiding our hair and commenting on how soft and shiny it was. (This from a lady whose hair colour changed monthly depending on which box she picked up at the store.) She did ceramics. She hooked rugs. She was always interested in what was happening in my life. She radiated love.
Unfortunately, the nasty habit of smoking caught up to her. Even though she managed to quit, seven years before she died, she developed lung cancer, which spread throughout her body and claimed her life in a few short months.
Grandpa Thomas sorely missed Grandma when she died. But he carried on until he was 90 years old (I was in my early 30s and Noah had just been born.) He was almost as wide as he was tall, had a wicked sense of humour (he claimed to have almost caught Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny every year to wind the kids up) and was grateful for simple things.
He loved visitors and always thanked you for stopping by. The fatty part of the meat was the best and donuts should always be dipped in maple syrup because they aren't quite sweet enough on their own.
I remember him holding baby Noah and marveling at the new life. (This from a man who had countless grandchildren and great grandchildren.) I think he was grateful for every one.
One day, he decided he'd had enough. He'd just moved into a care facility, was experiencing some medical problems and probably realized he wasn't returning to his home. And he just died.
I'm a better person for having all of them in my life and I have wonderful memories of them all. That's the great thing about memories, they can keep those influential people in our lives alive in our hearts.
While death is always hardest on those left behind, Pete and Diane can cherish the good memories they have of Pete's dad.
Keep making good memories with those you love. In the end, that's what will define our lives and keep our spirits alive.
Tina
This week, dear friends, Diane and Pete were suddenly called back to Edmonton because Pete's dad was dying. They made it back just in time, and got to spend a little bit of time with him and say their goodbyes before he drew his last breath.
This reality made me examine my own family situation and realize I'm very, very lucky to have both my parents still in my life. They did a good job raising my sister and me (even if I do say so myself), and are wonderful and involved in the lives of their five grandchildren. Even if my mom is battling cancer, she's here and we still get to enjoy the pleasure of her company.
Michael's parents are also both alive and kicking. We just went on a great holiday with them, they're very helpful and involved in the lives of our kids, and we're lucky to have them.
I have memories of all four of my grandparents. The most faint are those of my Grandma Pauwels (my mom's mom) who died of ovarian cancer when I was seven. Yes, I have her side of the family to thank for the evil BRCA-1 gene. I remember her colouring with me and I think I still have the beautiful picture of a sea shell she worked on in a box in my basement. I also remember her hovering around the stove cooking.
A sudden heart attack took my Grandpa Pauwels when I was in grade 8. He was a bit gruff, often rubbing his rough stubble against my tender cheeks. He loved his homemade beer and boisterously played cards. But he was loving and generous, always slipping a bill between my fingers, or sponsoring my swim-a-thon or other fundraising function. He was also the only person who called me "Tina Marie" with regularity, which I hated. But of course, grandfathers can get away with lots of things.
The loss of my Grandma Thomas just before I graduated from grade 12 was traumatic. She was the grandparent who was most influential in my life. She was always cooking and baking - she made the most amazing chocolate cake and buns in the world!
I remember her babysitting us, braiding our hair and commenting on how soft and shiny it was. (This from a lady whose hair colour changed monthly depending on which box she picked up at the store.) She did ceramics. She hooked rugs. She was always interested in what was happening in my life. She radiated love.
Unfortunately, the nasty habit of smoking caught up to her. Even though she managed to quit, seven years before she died, she developed lung cancer, which spread throughout her body and claimed her life in a few short months.
Grandpa Thomas sorely missed Grandma when she died. But he carried on until he was 90 years old (I was in my early 30s and Noah had just been born.) He was almost as wide as he was tall, had a wicked sense of humour (he claimed to have almost caught Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny every year to wind the kids up) and was grateful for simple things.
He loved visitors and always thanked you for stopping by. The fatty part of the meat was the best and donuts should always be dipped in maple syrup because they aren't quite sweet enough on their own.
I remember him holding baby Noah and marveling at the new life. (This from a man who had countless grandchildren and great grandchildren.) I think he was grateful for every one.
One day, he decided he'd had enough. He'd just moved into a care facility, was experiencing some medical problems and probably realized he wasn't returning to his home. And he just died.
I'm a better person for having all of them in my life and I have wonderful memories of them all. That's the great thing about memories, they can keep those influential people in our lives alive in our hearts.
While death is always hardest on those left behind, Pete and Diane can cherish the good memories they have of Pete's dad.
Keep making good memories with those you love. In the end, that's what will define our lives and keep our spirits alive.
Tina
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The hell of chemotherapy
I wouldn't wish chemotherapy and its horrible side effects on my worst enemy. So it was really hard yesterday to learn my mom needs this cancer-killing medicine. While we knew chemo was a possibility, I secretly hoped the surgery would suffice and her ureter cancer would be eradicated.
My mom saw the general oncologist yesterday. Since ureter cancer is so rare, oncologists don't specialize in this field. Dr. P said that while her cancer was still locally contained, it had invaded the muscular wall of the ureter and some cells were found in her blood. So chemotherapy is the next plan of attack.
Her course of treatment will be different than mine. She'll receive two forms of chemotherapy one week, another type the next week and then have a week off. But the first treatment will combine all three types of chemo to shock those nasty cancer cells. She's scheduled to receive six cycles (just like me) so her treatment should end at the end of August.
She'll lose her hair. She'll need to be careful of infections and exposure to germs. She'll probably crave carbs. And while many of her side effects will be the same as mine, her experience will also be different.
Her first treatment is on April 14, my sister's birthday. Poor Angie. She got news of my diagnosis the day before her birthday last year and she's going to head to the chemo suite with my mom on her birthday this year. One year soon, we deserve no bad news and a really good party instead.
While I cry at what my mom will have to go through to get better, I know she's a strong fighter and will get through. I just wish she didn't have to do it at all.
Tina
My mom saw the general oncologist yesterday. Since ureter cancer is so rare, oncologists don't specialize in this field. Dr. P said that while her cancer was still locally contained, it had invaded the muscular wall of the ureter and some cells were found in her blood. So chemotherapy is the next plan of attack.
Her course of treatment will be different than mine. She'll receive two forms of chemotherapy one week, another type the next week and then have a week off. But the first treatment will combine all three types of chemo to shock those nasty cancer cells. She's scheduled to receive six cycles (just like me) so her treatment should end at the end of August.
She'll lose her hair. She'll need to be careful of infections and exposure to germs. She'll probably crave carbs. And while many of her side effects will be the same as mine, her experience will also be different.
Her first treatment is on April 14, my sister's birthday. Poor Angie. She got news of my diagnosis the day before her birthday last year and she's going to head to the chemo suite with my mom on her birthday this year. One year soon, we deserve no bad news and a really good party instead.
While I cry at what my mom will have to go through to get better, I know she's a strong fighter and will get through. I just wish she didn't have to do it at all.
Tina
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Baggage
It's amazing the amount of baggage we all carry around from our experiences in life. They shape who we are, how we think, our reactions to situations and our internal thoughts about ourselves. Some make us better people, but others create unreasonable or harmful side effects that follow us through life.
My cancer diagnosis, and brush with mortality and death significantly changed me. Every day I try to pull the good out of my experience and make myself a better person. I feel my reprieve from the disease gives me the opportunity to be thankful and make the most of my life. It also makes me different.
My therapist and I discussed this reality yesterday. We were working on a tramatic early teenage memory with eye-movement desensitization process (EMDR), where the left and right sides of the brain work together to logically process emotional situations. I struggled to fit in during junior high, feeling I was too different, alone, struggling and unworthy. EMDR helped me process that memory so it's not tramatic for me any more. I've almost boxed it up and kicked it to the curb, like all the other unwanted trash.
Yet reopening that memory made me realize that feeling of not fitting in I experienced in junior high school can also describe my situation right now. I experienced a life-changing, mind-altering experience. I am still afflicted by fears (rational and irrational) and suffer from post tramautic stress disorder (PTSD). But I also discovered wonderful things about myself and others that I want to keep alive.
In short, I'm a different person. In many ways, I'm a better person. I still have lots to work on (who doesn't), but I'm pretty satisfied with my life and the people with whom I've chosen to share it.
I guess I still struggle a little bit to find a place where this new, albeit better person fits. It can be lonely. It can be rewarding. In the end, I am satisfied with who I am. I guess that's what really matters.
Cancer was a curse and a gift. It's my job to make lemonade from the sour yellow fruit. I welcome anyone along for the ride.
Tina
My cancer diagnosis, and brush with mortality and death significantly changed me. Every day I try to pull the good out of my experience and make myself a better person. I feel my reprieve from the disease gives me the opportunity to be thankful and make the most of my life. It also makes me different.
My therapist and I discussed this reality yesterday. We were working on a tramatic early teenage memory with eye-movement desensitization process (EMDR), where the left and right sides of the brain work together to logically process emotional situations. I struggled to fit in during junior high, feeling I was too different, alone, struggling and unworthy. EMDR helped me process that memory so it's not tramatic for me any more. I've almost boxed it up and kicked it to the curb, like all the other unwanted trash.
Yet reopening that memory made me realize that feeling of not fitting in I experienced in junior high school can also describe my situation right now. I experienced a life-changing, mind-altering experience. I am still afflicted by fears (rational and irrational) and suffer from post tramautic stress disorder (PTSD). But I also discovered wonderful things about myself and others that I want to keep alive.
In short, I'm a different person. In many ways, I'm a better person. I still have lots to work on (who doesn't), but I'm pretty satisfied with my life and the people with whom I've chosen to share it.
I guess I still struggle a little bit to find a place where this new, albeit better person fits. It can be lonely. It can be rewarding. In the end, I am satisfied with who I am. I guess that's what really matters.
Cancer was a curse and a gift. It's my job to make lemonade from the sour yellow fruit. I welcome anyone along for the ride.
Tina
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Celebrate life
Every once in a while, I'll remember those months I spent fighting cancer. Small incidents trigger these memories.
I'll need a haircut and remember those months I spent bald. I'll drink water and recall when water tasted skunky and how I shuddered at the thought of drinking from a metal water bottle. I'll do some cleaning or cooking around the house and the memories will emerge of how those simple tasks seemed like too much effort.
Often, I recall the good that emerged from my experience. I'll be reminded of all the help and support shown to me by my friends (and even strangers) during those dark months and marvel at the kindness of others. I still can't believe all the wonderful tasks people did for me and my family during our time of need.
I remember regularly all those meals, prayers, cards, flowers, gifts and good vibes sent my way. I look at the walls of my home and remember those who rolled up their sleeves to paint my house while I underwent cancer-removing surgery. And I'm so thankful for it all. I have good people in my life.
To celebrate the joy of life - and the way you all contributed to helping me fight for mine - I'm hosting a potluck party on June 26 at the London Life recreation grounds. More details will follow at a later date but I wanted to share the invitation now so you could mark it on your calendars.
Life is wonderful, come celebrate it with me.
Tina
I'll need a haircut and remember those months I spent bald. I'll drink water and recall when water tasted skunky and how I shuddered at the thought of drinking from a metal water bottle. I'll do some cleaning or cooking around the house and the memories will emerge of how those simple tasks seemed like too much effort.
Often, I recall the good that emerged from my experience. I'll be reminded of all the help and support shown to me by my friends (and even strangers) during those dark months and marvel at the kindness of others. I still can't believe all the wonderful tasks people did for me and my family during our time of need.
I remember regularly all those meals, prayers, cards, flowers, gifts and good vibes sent my way. I look at the walls of my home and remember those who rolled up their sleeves to paint my house while I underwent cancer-removing surgery. And I'm so thankful for it all. I have good people in my life.
To celebrate the joy of life - and the way you all contributed to helping me fight for mine - I'm hosting a potluck party on June 26 at the London Life recreation grounds. More details will follow at a later date but I wanted to share the invitation now so you could mark it on your calendars.
Life is wonderful, come celebrate it with me.
Tina
Monday, March 22, 2010
Back to reality
It's hard returning to reality after vacation. I was so relaxed and enjoyed my time in Florida so much, I didn't want to come back. It didn't help the weather was sunny and going to be 26C on Saturday when we loaded the van and started the trek back to Canada.
Of course, since the weekend marked the end of March Break in Ontario and a few states, the highways heading out of Florida were jam packed on Saturday morning. (Next time, I'm staying until the rush back is over.) The drive took a few hours longer than anticipated, my father-in-law ate an off sandwich and got food poisoining, and we saw a doozy of an accident around midnight in Georgia.
We returned very tired around noon yesterday to a chilly house (11C) and a furnace that didn't work. But my laissez faire attitude I'd recaptured during vacation allowed me to react fairly calmly. Luckily, we found out this morning some strong winds last week went down the chimney and turned off a safety switch. So, it was an easy and fairly inexpensive fix to the furnace.
I have great memories of the trip to Florida. The house was beautiful and we spent at least four hours in the pool and hot tub most days. We sipped our morning coffee while looking at the stars in the morning and quaffed a cold beer in it in the afternoons. It was perfect.
On Thursday, the six of us hit Epcot to experience the joys of the Walt Disney World. It's been one of my mother-in-law's dreams to experience Disney with her grandchildren. We were there early to ensure we got the volunteer certificates converted into tickets and get a good spot in line. Being early certainly paid off for us. The approximately 200 people in line were all selected for a Disney Magic Moment. Around 8 a.m. we were escorted to Soarin', the most popular ride in the park, and rode it twice before the park even opened. It kicked off an awesome day the right way.
We were going to hit the beach on the way out of the sunshine state, but the traffic was crawling bumper to bumper, so we decided to skip that experience and start on the long drive back. It's something to do NEXT time we go.
Even though I went to bed at 8 p.m. last night, I'm still tired today. I'm sure it'll take a few days to catch up on the missed sleep.
But it was worth it! And I seem to have gotten over the fear of planning for the future because now I'm dreaming of my next vacation . . .
Tina
Of course, since the weekend marked the end of March Break in Ontario and a few states, the highways heading out of Florida were jam packed on Saturday morning. (Next time, I'm staying until the rush back is over.) The drive took a few hours longer than anticipated, my father-in-law ate an off sandwich and got food poisoining, and we saw a doozy of an accident around midnight in Georgia.
We returned very tired around noon yesterday to a chilly house (11C) and a furnace that didn't work. But my laissez faire attitude I'd recaptured during vacation allowed me to react fairly calmly. Luckily, we found out this morning some strong winds last week went down the chimney and turned off a safety switch. So, it was an easy and fairly inexpensive fix to the furnace.
I have great memories of the trip to Florida. The house was beautiful and we spent at least four hours in the pool and hot tub most days. We sipped our morning coffee while looking at the stars in the morning and quaffed a cold beer in it in the afternoons. It was perfect.
On Thursday, the six of us hit Epcot to experience the joys of the Walt Disney World. It's been one of my mother-in-law's dreams to experience Disney with her grandchildren. We were there early to ensure we got the volunteer certificates converted into tickets and get a good spot in line. Being early certainly paid off for us. The approximately 200 people in line were all selected for a Disney Magic Moment. Around 8 a.m. we were escorted to Soarin', the most popular ride in the park, and rode it twice before the park even opened. It kicked off an awesome day the right way.
We were going to hit the beach on the way out of the sunshine state, but the traffic was crawling bumper to bumper, so we decided to skip that experience and start on the long drive back. It's something to do NEXT time we go.
Even though I went to bed at 8 p.m. last night, I'm still tired today. I'm sure it'll take a few days to catch up on the missed sleep.
But it was worth it! And I seem to have gotten over the fear of planning for the future because now I'm dreaming of my next vacation . . .
Tina
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