ABCs of recuperation vacation

A is for the airplane that will transport us to our vacation destination.

B is for basking in the sun on the beautiful, powdery white beach.

C is for the cerveza Cristal and cafe con leche I'll use to salute the end of chemo.

D is for "Dad, Dad, Dad," a phrase Michael won't hear for a week. He'll just be Michael, honey, senor, Canadian dude, etc. . .

E is for Playa Esmerelda, the beautiful beach on which the Sol Rio Luna y Mares resort is located.

F is for all the yummy food I'm going to enjoy on vacation. The resort has two buffets and four a la carte restaurants. I'll be able to choose what I feel like eating at each meal. I'm also excited I won't have to do dishes for the next week.

G is for Guardalavaca, the closest town to our resort. We may rent a scooter one day and go check it out. Or we may not. That's the joy of vacation - you eat when you're hungry, drink when you're dry, sleep when you're tired, do an activity if you feel like it, etc.

H is for horseback riding, which is free at our resort. I love to ride, so I'm going to take advantage of this activity. Yes, I'll be careful.

I is for Internet. The resort has an Internet cafe and I hope it's operational while we're there so I can email my kids. I may also do a quick blog once or twice during my vacation, so check back every once in a while. If it's down, or if I'm too busy enjoying my vacation, I'll post when I get back.

J is for the jellyfish I hope not to encounter in the ocean. But a small coral reef is situated close to the resort and I do hope to swim with many colourful fish while I'm snorkeling there.

K is for my kids, whom I'll miss and from whom I'm happy to have a vacation from for a week.

L is for the lobby bar, where apparently they have a piano player and a drink menu (to help me decide what to try next).

M is for the many mojitos I'll request from the bartenders. (Lots of people have asked me to have a drink for them. I can't let all those people down.)

N is for next stage of my life. This vacation is all about resting, relaxing, recuperating (maybe this entry should be for the letter R) and giving my mind a chance to process the end of cancer treatments so I can move on to what comes next. Hopefully, it'll only be good things!

O is for the warm, turquoise ocean in which we'll submerse ourselves. Maybe it has healing properties. Doesn't hurt to check it out. :)

P is for the palapas under which I'll park my butt. I still need to be careful in the sun.

Q is for quiet dinners. There will be no need to hear sibling arguments or say "sit down" and "eat your dinner." Aaahhhh!

R is for romance. Michael and I can be just a couple again. (There's also a romantica a la carte restaurant at which we hope to get reservations.)

S is for swimming, snorkelling, sand, starry nights, salty ocean and Sunwing airlines.

T is for Tina. I'll be just me on vacation. Tina, Michael's wife. Not mom. Not a cancer patient. Just Tina.

U is for understanding. Michael understands that I need to go at a slower pace and sometimes I get quietly introspective. That'll happen on our vacation. But I know it's okay because he understands.

V is for victory over ovarian cancer and the celebratory vacation.

W is for wow, I'm in remission! And for the warm weather Cuba is experiencing right now (better than this fall weather in London).

X is for xtra special (yes, I know that's not right but I couldn't find an x word). But this vacation will be extra special because of the reasons we're going.

Y is for yellow, orange, pink and purple - the colours of the sunsets or sunrises we'll watch over the ocean. Yippee!

Z is for Zulema. The wonderful guest services manager at our resort. I've contacted her via email and she promised to arrange something "especial" for us to celebrate the end of chemo treatments. I can't wait!


I thought it would be interesting and fun to do this little ABC blog before I left on vacation. Michael and I drive to Toronto tonight to stay at a Park, Sleep and Fly hotel. Our flight leaves at 6:20 a.m. tomorrow morning, so we'll be at the resort around lunch. Thanks for all the warm wishes to have a good time - we plan to do just that.

With lots of love and excitement,
Tina

Relief and joy

Friday would have been my chemo day if I were still receiving treatments. All day the feelings of relief that I wasn't hooked up to the needle in the chemo suite washed over me. But I thought about the others who were there, who I'd met over the course of my treatments.

One woman, who was also fighting ovarian cancer, I saw every week for five weeks. We'd share side effects and strategies for dealing with them. I felt excitment for her and her husband because Friday was her last treatment and she could ring the bell. I hope she rang it long and loud!

Then there's the woman I met during my last treatment, who was starting her second round of chemo for her ovarian cancer reoccurence. I felt terrible for her because the cancer came back in less than six months. Her hair had returned and I'm sure she felt good. But she was bravely facing the chemo again.

Meeting her really affected me because she's now living every cancer survivor's fear - the dreaded cancer will return.

Yes, I'm afraid. But I'm not going to let that fear affect my enjoyment of life. Yes, the cancer may come back, but I don't want to spend the cancer-free days in fear. That's letting the cancer control my life. No way!

So I'm living my life with joy, trying to find the enjoyment and good things in each day.

Tina

The continued generosity of people

In yesterday's blog, I mentioned the Cottage Dreams interview we attended last night and promised more information. According to their website, Cottage Dreams Cancer Recovery Initiative is a registered charity that offers recent cancer survivors the opportunity to spend a week at a private, donated cottage to reconnect and rejuvenate with family and friends after successfully completing treatment.

During one of my many visits to the cancer centre, Michael found a poster on a bulletin board promoting this organization. At first we thought it was too good to be true. But we researched it on the Internet and obtained the necessary paperwork from the website, which included an application that I had to complete and a form that I needed Dr. P. to fill out.

I figured, getting cancer and going through the treatment is a terrible experience, why not take advantage of the perqs of being a cancer survivor.

Last night, we met with a wonderful woman who represented Cottage Dreams to discuss our application and go over the rules of using a cottage. It also helps them put a face to those who are participating in the program. I think they wanted to make sure I was a cancer survivor (the bald head kind of gave it away) and that we weren't hooligans.

The cottages are donated by those who are fortunate enough to have a vacation property and are willing to donate it to Cottage Dreams. This is an opportunity for the owner to give the gift of peace of mind and family time to those who have recently fought cancer.

Wow, again, I'm amazed at the generosity of others.

The representative last night said we'd be approved and we'd be contacted when an appropriate cottage was found for our family for the time frame we requested. Our only request is a cottage on a lake so we could swim. I get excited just thinking about it.

If you'd like more information about Cottage Dreams, check out the website at http://www.cottagedreams.org/.

Have a great weekend.
Tina

Compassion and understanding

I'm constantly amazed at how people are willing to pitch in when someone else needs help. Not only have I received more than my share of assistance during these past five months, today Noah is getting some much needed help.

A short while ago, I asked a contact I had for bipolar if she knew of anyone who could speak to Noah's class about the disorder. Immediately, her and her daughter (who is in grade 8 and has bipolar) volunteered to come. So they're taking time out of their busy work and school days to help Noah's classmates understand why he acts the way he does. Hopefully, understanding will bring compassion and inclusiveness. It's easier to fit in when others understand why you're different. Noah can't help being bipolar and hopefully his classmates will get that message today.

Today is also busy because I'm going with my mom to a doctor's appointment. Because she tested BRCA-1 positive too, she's visiting with the gynaecologist to discuss her hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo oopherectomy (ovaries and tubes removal). She's been waiting for this appointment since May. But to make her trip to London more enjoyable, we're going out to lunch first.

Tonight is meet the teacher night and I also have an interview for Cottage Dreams, which I'll blog about tomorrow.

Whew! I'm a busy lady today. Luckily, I have nothing planned for tomorrow and I can rest and recover.

Thanks to all those who wrote to support me in my decision not to attend the BRCA meeting. You all made some good points and convinced me that I made the right choice.

Have a great day everyone. It looks like it's going to be a beauty.
Tina

Cowardly lion or smart cookie?

I couldn't attend my first BRCA support meeting last night. I was all geared up and ready to go in the morning. I figured the insight and experience of others could help me as I make my own decisions about being BRCA-1 positive.

Then I started thinking.

I remembered how much Dr. W brought me down last week with all his talk of percentages, reoccurence, second remissions, life spans, clinical trial drugs that could help, etc. It took me a few days to process that information - and I brought everyone else down with me when I shared it.

Given that Michael and I are going on vacation next week, I didn't want anything to bring down the anticipation we'll be feeling this weekend as we pack, or the enjoyment of it once we reach our destination on Tuesday.

This will be our first real vacation since last August when the entire family went camping (as a side note, I really missed camping this summer). Since April, our lives have been dedicated to chemotherapy every three weeks and recovery from it. We had a 6-week break (?) when I had my surgery. It's been a trying, stressful, painful summer.

So, I'm eagerly anticipating getting away, resting in the sunshine, reading some books, talking to my husband over leisurely dinners and indulging in some cool, tropical beverages. It'll also give me a chance to try to get my head screwed on straight to proceed with the next phase of my life.

I also didn't go last night because I was exhausted. I visited work yesterday - apologies to everyone I missed. The time went by in a whirlwind and I didn't get a chance to see everyone. I can't believe how much a simple, enjoyable activity can still tire me out.

Besides being exhausted, I was also fearful of the support group's topics of conversation. Was I going to hear about how these women had to have bilateral mastectomies because of the gene? Were they going to discuss the chances of cancers for those who are BRCA positive? Was the word reoccurence going to rear its ugly head? I guess I am a cowardly lion because I don't want to talk about any of those topics right now.

Or maybe I'm a smart cookie because I'm enjoying my celebratory phase for a little while longer. I think I deserve it. I need to get away from cancer for just a little while. Although I know when I'm the only bald chick at the resort, I'll be asked questions. But when that happens, I can say, I fought cancer this summer and won.

Besides, the topics about the implications of being BRCA positive will still be there when the support group meets again next month.

Your celebratory friend,
Tina

Weight of the world

When I visited the social worker on Friday, we identified 10 subjects my mind was trying to process. No wonder I felt completely overwhelmed on Thursday. I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders.

But since Thursday, I've been processing all that information in my brain and talking to the social worker helped me put some things in perspective. For me, that helps. If I think or talk about things, I can usually make a decision, put it on hold, put it into perspective or dismiss it.

I know I've always been logical, but this journey makes me realize, I'm also an optimist.

Michael and I went out for our end-of-chemo celebratory dinner on Friday night. But Michael was still processing all the news (we all work at our own pace) and didn't feel very celebratory. Perhaps we should have delayed the dinner, but we went. I think my positive mood helped him improve his by the end of the meal. Those six gut-wrenching treatments (and the invasive surgery) are done. We needed to celebrate.

Speaking of weight of the world, I've packed on the pounds since I started treatment and I am so out of shape. At the Port Frank's beach yesterday, I got winded climbing the sand dune from the beach. How pathetic. People try to reassure me that once the steroids are out of my system and I start to work out again, I'll drop the weight. But weight loss has always been such a struggle for me. So much for the 40 lbs I lost in 2006. I'll have to do it all over again - after vacation.

As for today, I'm accompanying Noah's class on a field trip. It's a rainy, wet day and the activities are outside. So we'll don our raincoats and do the best we can. I'm taking advantage of the ability to attend his field trip and spend time with my son.

Hope you have a great Monday, despite the weather.

Tina

Believe

I've come a long way in a day. My brain churned yesterday, processing all the bad information. I don't have any solutions nor do I accept any of the information as certainty, but I've decided that my attitude is paramount in how I handle this journey.

I am going with the attitude that I am NOT a statistic. I believe I can make it.

Yes, the information from the Dr. W was bad. But I'm younger than the average ovarian cancer survivor, I have the lucky(?) BRCA gene and I have a positive attitude. I can't focus on what may happen. I can only focus on being as positive as possible.

I always envisioned living into my 80s. With the long life expectancy rates for women, the fact that I've never smoked and how healthy I'd been, I figured age 80 sounded about right. Who knows, I may still make it there. Probably not, but I'm not going to let that get me down.

I've met 17 year ovarian cancer survivors. I know there are women out there who've bucked the statistics and lived for years and years. And given my history and my attitude, I plan to do the same thing.

As for my mom, nothing is certain yet. She still needs tests and results. So I can't focus on the what if, how can, what should I, etc. I can only wait and see, and hope for the best.

A friend said I should have a theme song. The one chosen for the 2010 Olympic games, Believe, was written and sung by a talented Canadian artist named Suzie McNeil. Its lyrics seem quite appropriate. Here's are some of them:

It's like I'm falling through my own fears
They used to haunt me, but now they're not here
There's no looking back, my future is clear
No giving up
And I'm holding on when it gets rough
Cuz you can get through most anything

If you just believe
You can move mountains with dreams
The higher you climb
The better it gets
Cuz you will see things
You'll never forget
If you just believe

No one says it's easy
And no one says you have to be perfect
But as long as you try
You're always gonna find
It was worth it

I believe I can beat the odds. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy my life for as long as I'm living. In the end, that's all any of us can do.

Tina