When I was growing up, my family lived in the country. Our house was situated on a dead-end, gravel road, near a town of approximately 12,000 people. So we didn't have streetlights nor the glow of a big city to taint the inky hue of the night. Therefore, when we extinguished the lights, it was dark. Really dark. The kind where you can wave your hand in front of your face and not see it.
Like any kid, I believed monsters lived under my bed and in my closet. And because it was so dark, there was no chance I would see them until they clawed at my legs and dragged me under the bed for a late night snack. But the bed, of course, was safety. No monster could get me as long as I was safely under its impenetrable covers. Therefore, the flying leap became a nightly ritual.
As I got older, the rational side of my brain won and I managed to banish those beasts. But I clearly remember experiencing a series of nightmares that scared the hell out of me. A sasquatch-type beast was coming to get us (usually only my sister and I were home). The sun was shining brightly, which typically isn't scary. But the daytime setting allowed me to clearly see as the beast banged on the windows and ran from door to door looking for a way into our house. I remember feeling terrified (although as I think back, he did look a bit like Chewbacca from the Star Wars flicks).
Whenever I had this nightmare, I would wake with a start, my heart pounding and mind racing.
This recurring dream was one of two I experienced regularly as a child. The other involved losing my eyesight or being blinded by such bright light that I could only open my eyes a tiny bit to view whitish images and feel tears run down my face. Of course, I had to accomplish some task in the dream, like drive a car or travel to a destination. I remember feeling frustrated at my virtual blindness.
When I had laser eye surgery a few years ago, I lived that nightmare. I experienced a rare reaction to the procedure where I became hypersensitive to light. This phenomenon lasted about two weeks. It was frustrating, dangerous (when I tried to do something I shouldn't) and tiring - just like the dream.
It was eerie when one of the two recurring nightmares of my childhood came true. Perhaps my Chewie dreams represent the nightmare of living with cancer. It's a scary, evil beast doing anything it can to invade my home. The monster in my dream tried his best to get me any way he could and kept coming back. But he never made it in the house (or the car when we tried to run for it). The monster never got me. He was always locked out, stuck on the other side of the glass.
So I'm telling the beast to stay outside, where it can't reach me. I know it's there (and it knows about my presence), but it can't have me any more. It may limit my movements and scare me with its hideous teeth, horrible roars and scraggly brown hair, but it can't have me.
Thinking about my childhood nightmares also made me recall a time I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of metal hangers clanking together in my closet. I froze, terrified. In a wavering voice, I called for my mom and/or dad several times. They slept soundly through my fearful cries for help. But my sister, Angie, came to my rescue. She fearlessly flipped on the light and slowly opened the closet door to discover a mouse (remember, we lived in the country where mice seek shelter in nice warm houses). No monster lurked behind my closet door.
Angie was my monster-slayer, protector and the person who stood by my side when I was fearful. She still is. She's willing to be available for oncologist appointments, CT scans, chemotherapy sessions, depressed rampages, listless days and fearful mumblings. Her and Michael are my two rocks that I cling to during my journey with cancer.
With such great support, I can (usually) face my fears, whether it be the monsters under my bed, a mouse in my closet or the evil that is cancer. I am not alone.
Your brave friend,
Tina
Monday, January 10, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Glimpse in the looking glass
I've been thinking about and praying for my friend, Patty (aka Pateeta) over the past few weeks, but especially during the last 24 hours. My fellow ovarian-cancer warrior needed surgery yesterday to get her shit in order - literally. As I understand it, she has obstructions in her bowel and, as a result, it's not working properly. Hence the surgery.
I met Patty through blogging, but she's become a dear friend. I don't know the sound of her voice or the ring of her laugh. I'm not familiar with the cadence of her speech or if she swaggers when she walks. But I can empathize with her because we share membership in a club no one wants (or should have) to join. Her life and health affect me deeply. I wish her only the very best.
She's been in and out of the hospital a number of times over the past few weeks, with various cancer complications. I read her blog and Facebook updates with sympathy, think of her often and include her in my prayers.
But to be honest, her situation - and that of some other cancer survivors I read about - also makes me slightly uncomfortable (and then I feel guilty for feeling that way). These warriors currently need to fight harder in their cancer battles, so it makes me feel grateful about where I currently am. I feel little pain, my situation looks relatively positive, the meds seem to be working and I'm planning a "normal" life.
I wouldn't stop reading their blogs for the world. I couldn't stop supporting their struggles or celebrating their victories - no matter how small. And yesterday, I thought of Patty every time I had a BM (I'm almost sure Patty will find that funny.)
But their struggles also instill a bit of fear in my mind, and may be a contributing factor to the depressed days I recently experienced. Patty was diagnosed with stage IIIC ovarian cancer, same as me and now she's experiencing blockages, pain, hospital visits and surgery. I wonder if I'm seeing a brief glimpse into the looking glass of what could be my future. And to be honest, it scares me. I sometimes wonder how this journey is going to end and what my future holds.
I'm fearful for Patty and wish for a miracle, an end to the pain, a cure for the miserable cancer.
I wish for the end of cancer for all of us.
Tina
I met Patty through blogging, but she's become a dear friend. I don't know the sound of her voice or the ring of her laugh. I'm not familiar with the cadence of her speech or if she swaggers when she walks. But I can empathize with her because we share membership in a club no one wants (or should have) to join. Her life and health affect me deeply. I wish her only the very best.
She's been in and out of the hospital a number of times over the past few weeks, with various cancer complications. I read her blog and Facebook updates with sympathy, think of her often and include her in my prayers.
But to be honest, her situation - and that of some other cancer survivors I read about - also makes me slightly uncomfortable (and then I feel guilty for feeling that way). These warriors currently need to fight harder in their cancer battles, so it makes me feel grateful about where I currently am. I feel little pain, my situation looks relatively positive, the meds seem to be working and I'm planning a "normal" life.
I wouldn't stop reading their blogs for the world. I couldn't stop supporting their struggles or celebrating their victories - no matter how small. And yesterday, I thought of Patty every time I had a BM (I'm almost sure Patty will find that funny.)
But their struggles also instill a bit of fear in my mind, and may be a contributing factor to the depressed days I recently experienced. Patty was diagnosed with stage IIIC ovarian cancer, same as me and now she's experiencing blockages, pain, hospital visits and surgery. I wonder if I'm seeing a brief glimpse into the looking glass of what could be my future. And to be honest, it scares me. I sometimes wonder how this journey is going to end and what my future holds.
I'm fearful for Patty and wish for a miracle, an end to the pain, a cure for the miserable cancer.
I wish for the end of cancer for all of us.
Tina
Friday, January 7, 2011
Going to see Suzie!
After almost 16 years of marriage, Michael and I must have some sort of telepathic connection. On Wednesday night, while sitting in the hot tub, I was thinking about activities I'd like to do over the coming year. While I've mentally and verbally committed to going whitewater rafting, I hadn't identified anything else for my Let's rock 2011 list.
But that evening, an idea popped into my head, but I didn't verbalize it. Then out of the blue, Michael made my desire a reality yesterday. How cool is that?
Michael bought tickets for us to see Suzie McNeil in Collingwood in February. He excitedly exclaimed he got second row centre seats. A bubble of glee welled up inside me.
We've been following Suzie's career since she appeared on Rock Star: INXS in the summer of 2005. We fell in love with her versatile voice and contagious laugh. She's one of those artists who can make my skin tingle because her voice is so incredible.
About a year after the show concluded, we were invited to her CD release party (via her fan website) and briefly met her as she signed our copies of her Broken and Beautiful. I've blogged about her song Believe beacause its beautiful words seemed to reflect my feelings and provide inspiration.
Now, everyone who really knows me understands I have a little thing for Bon Jovi, who I've seen in concert a few times (singing along to every song) and lovin' every minute of it. But when you see Jon and the boys, the stadium is huge and due to my cash-flow situation, I need to use binoculars to get up close and personal with Jon Bon.
But I LOVE Suzie too. (Yes, I'd choose her music if I were stuck on a deserted island.) I'm thrilled I'll be sitting close as she performs in February. I'm excited the concert is being held in a small, intimate venue. And I'm grateful her tickets were in our price range.
I expect more than a few tingles to course through my body that night. Good things like that are exactly what life should be about.
And all because I've got this super-duper cosmic connection with my soulmate and husband, Michael. Lucky me!
Tina
But that evening, an idea popped into my head, but I didn't verbalize it. Then out of the blue, Michael made my desire a reality yesterday. How cool is that?
Michael bought tickets for us to see Suzie McNeil in Collingwood in February. He excitedly exclaimed he got second row centre seats. A bubble of glee welled up inside me.
We've been following Suzie's career since she appeared on Rock Star: INXS in the summer of 2005. We fell in love with her versatile voice and contagious laugh. She's one of those artists who can make my skin tingle because her voice is so incredible.
About a year after the show concluded, we were invited to her CD release party (via her fan website) and briefly met her as she signed our copies of her Broken and Beautiful. I've blogged about her song Believe beacause its beautiful words seemed to reflect my feelings and provide inspiration.
Now, everyone who really knows me understands I have a little thing for Bon Jovi, who I've seen in concert a few times (singing along to every song) and lovin' every minute of it. But when you see Jon and the boys, the stadium is huge and due to my cash-flow situation, I need to use binoculars to get up close and personal with Jon Bon.
But I LOVE Suzie too. (Yes, I'd choose her music if I were stuck on a deserted island.) I'm thrilled I'll be sitting close as she performs in February. I'm excited the concert is being held in a small, intimate venue. And I'm grateful her tickets were in our price range.
I expect more than a few tingles to course through my body that night. Good things like that are exactly what life should be about.
And all because I've got this super-duper cosmic connection with my soulmate and husband, Michael. Lucky me!
Tina
Thursday, January 6, 2011
I felt the love
Over 60 people wished me happy birthday yesterday. Even when I was out shopping and having lunch with my sister and mom, my Blackberry buzzed, alerting me to the new messages with birthday greetings.
I feel loved, blessed and happy. Thank you.
And yes, I wished for another birthday next year when I blew out the candles on my dark chocolate fudge birthday cake last night. (Mmmmmm.)
To a fabulous year ahead.
Tina
I feel loved, blessed and happy. Thank you.
And yes, I wished for another birthday next year when I blew out the candles on my dark chocolate fudge birthday cake last night. (Mmmmmm.)
To a fabulous year ahead.
Tina
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
44 and fabulous
Today is my birthday and I'm not ashamed to say I'm 44. (44 in 11, kinda funny.) I'm proud to be another year older.
I have the wrinkles and grey hair to prove the experiences of the time I've walked this earth. But I want more. I want more laugh lines, hard-won strands of silver, and even the inevitable aches and pains that accompany old age. Bring it on. I want to grow old with Michael by my side.
But there's no guarantee, so I rejoice in this year. I thank God I made it to 44. I'm rich with experience, friendships and love. That's what matters.
So as I blow out the candles on my rich, chocolately birthday cake this evening, my wish will be for another birthday next year.
Tina
I have the wrinkles and grey hair to prove the experiences of the time I've walked this earth. But I want more. I want more laugh lines, hard-won strands of silver, and even the inevitable aches and pains that accompany old age. Bring it on. I want to grow old with Michael by my side.
But there's no guarantee, so I rejoice in this year. I thank God I made it to 44. I'm rich with experience, friendships and love. That's what matters.
So as I blow out the candles on my rich, chocolately birthday cake this evening, my wish will be for another birthday next year.
Tina
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Today is good
Over the past few days, I've caught myself with a little smile on my face. Yup, you read right, I'm unconsciously smiling for no real reason at all. Mostly it happens when I'm in the hot tub in the evening, letting the warm water wash over me and allowing my mind gently meander over my thoughts. The ideas bouncing in my head during my morning hot tub excursion usually consist of what I need to get done during the day. It gears me up. The evening soak calms me down.
The source of these little smiles? I'm not 100 per cent sure, but I think it's because I'm content. I'm happy it's 2011 and I can celebrate another year. I'll get another year older and hopefully a whole lot wiser. I feel optimistic about my health situation. I love my life and all the good things in it. I'm lucky in so many ways and that gives me a little bubbling well of joy. I think the little smile is that joy I feel inside overflowing and escaping.
I also feel pretty good. Sure, I could feel better. I curse the rib, back and foot pains I get when I do too much. I could be stronger, fitter and healthier. But I'm celebrating what I have today, while working on what I can be tomorrow. If I think about it, in 2009 and 2010 (and possibly again in the future), I have felt a whole lot worse. So I'm thankful for how I feel today.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring. But for today, life is good.
Tina
The source of these little smiles? I'm not 100 per cent sure, but I think it's because I'm content. I'm happy it's 2011 and I can celebrate another year. I'll get another year older and hopefully a whole lot wiser. I feel optimistic about my health situation. I love my life and all the good things in it. I'm lucky in so many ways and that gives me a little bubbling well of joy. I think the little smile is that joy I feel inside overflowing and escaping.
I also feel pretty good. Sure, I could feel better. I curse the rib, back and foot pains I get when I do too much. I could be stronger, fitter and healthier. But I'm celebrating what I have today, while working on what I can be tomorrow. If I think about it, in 2009 and 2010 (and possibly again in the future), I have felt a whole lot worse. So I'm thankful for how I feel today.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring. But for today, life is good.
Tina
Monday, January 3, 2011
363 more days of possibilities
Happy new year! It's 2011 and the year lies before me full of possibilities.
Today I'm optimistic. I'm trying to be more positive about my health and moving forward with making plans. Of course, things could turn on a dime, but I'm not allowing my mind to visit that space today because there are so many things I could do with the 363 days remaining in this year.
New year's is a time of renewal for me; a fresh start. It's a time to take stock of life, remember the events of the past year (and their lessons) and plan for the new one. I've got a few resolutions I'm working on, including eating the required five to 10 servings of fruits and veggies every day and getting back in shape. Both these will make for a better, healthier Tina.
This morning, I proudly hung my Team Tina calendar in my office. It's in a prominent location where I'll look several times a day. It's presence will make me smile and think of the awesome folks who created (and bought) this hilarious calendar to help me. I'm a very lucky woman who has the support of so many fabulous people.
Remember, this is the year I'm going white water rafting. It's on my bucket list. In a future blog, I'll ask for confirmation on who's in on the excursion. I'm thinking June in the Ottawa area. So if you've wanted to experience the thrill of careening down a river on rapids, this is your opportunity to do it with a group of like-minded people.
But first things first. The kids returned to school this year, which means I now have to get to work. Michael and I have the dreaded job of taking down all the Christmas decorations and reclaiming our house. Gotta run, there are things to do.
Tina
Today I'm optimistic. I'm trying to be more positive about my health and moving forward with making plans. Of course, things could turn on a dime, but I'm not allowing my mind to visit that space today because there are so many things I could do with the 363 days remaining in this year.
New year's is a time of renewal for me; a fresh start. It's a time to take stock of life, remember the events of the past year (and their lessons) and plan for the new one. I've got a few resolutions I'm working on, including eating the required five to 10 servings of fruits and veggies every day and getting back in shape. Both these will make for a better, healthier Tina.
This morning, I proudly hung my Team Tina calendar in my office. It's in a prominent location where I'll look several times a day. It's presence will make me smile and think of the awesome folks who created (and bought) this hilarious calendar to help me. I'm a very lucky woman who has the support of so many fabulous people.
Remember, this is the year I'm going white water rafting. It's on my bucket list. In a future blog, I'll ask for confirmation on who's in on the excursion. I'm thinking June in the Ottawa area. So if you've wanted to experience the thrill of careening down a river on rapids, this is your opportunity to do it with a group of like-minded people.
But first things first. The kids returned to school this year, which means I now have to get to work. Michael and I have the dreaded job of taking down all the Christmas decorations and reclaiming our house. Gotta run, there are things to do.
Tina
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