Saturday 29 October 2011

The strife is o'er...the battle won?

Well, let's hope so.  I want to be very positive and at the same time I know I have dodged a bullet.

But joyful..I am very joyful. I am sleeping pretty much through the night for the first time in weeks, maybe months. Who knew that as much as I thought I was keeping things in check, my body was telling my psyche you are a big fat liar...or was it the other way around..my psyche was bitch (God, I do hate that word but for emphatic purposes) slappin' my body around.  Did I mention Dr. Luke asked, "WHat are you anxious about?  "Oh, because I can't breathe..take my breath?" What I really was anxious about was dying, and suffering, and pain...but I felt like a big baby saying that. So I lied..sort of.

The good news is for the last three nights I HAVE SLEPT!!! Yes, all true. No painkillers, no Adavin, no nothin'. Just getting tired, going to sleep, smiling. And sleeping through the night. Amazing.

Wednesday 26 October 2011

Ding dong the (cancer) witch is dead...

Today, I don't want to say more than this. Because it would just be repetitive. I am so relieved. I was not expecting the news to be so good. Here's what I send my family first and then copied it to all those not related to me by blood but who form the "family" of my heart: 

Hi family,
> Really good news today and enough for me to indulge in two bowls of Hagen
> Daz strawberry ice cream.
> Today I went to the surgeon for the post op check up and pathology report.
> Very good news. What they found was a low grade Stage 1 (versus previous
> reports of stage 2/3) cancer that, had they known the stage, they would not
> have needed to take the lymph nodes. Regardless, no cancer in the nodes.
> And no need for further treatment..that means no radiation or chemo. They
> basically consider me cured.
> Needless to say, I am ecstatic and thrilled. Even if I won't know if the
> sleeplessness will go away right away and even though I have some leg pain
> that may be nerve related because of the surgery and that may or may not go
> away eventually. 
> So, the news couldn't be better and thank you for all your love, prayers,
> support and concern through this whole process. It may also take a year to
> get back to normal but today, I feel like dancing.
> But I won't, just yet. In my mind though, I am doing the tango.
> Lots of love,
> Lauretta


What else is there to say? Oh,yes:  Deo gratias and Thank you Jesus! and Hail, Mary!  And, too, Dr. Luke who probably did most of the surgery. And Dr. Kupets. I did stop to thank her on my way out.  Strangely (but maybe not) I also felt the presence and care of my own cancer "angels".. Rita, Phil, Donna, Janet, Larry, Sr. Sabina, Ronnie...all those who showed me personally such great courage  and amazing grace and generosity as they faced the evil cancer witch. They died and yet the memory of who they were as they went through their journey was - is still -  a deep comfort to me. I remember them...

What a drag...but still the light shines through

It's 3:52 am. Still no sleep. Finally crawled out of bed and down to my "new" office set up in the sunroom while the everything is still up in the air, or at least pushed around. THe windows are in. Just the outside and inside trimming to do. And as is my eternal wont, I am second guessing my decisions made about the windows. Outside grills - look nice but are gonna make washing a drag. Not taking out the original posts means I basically have less window, and therefore less light because I didn't figure  out or notice that my orignal windows just have two inch frames and these have 3 1/2 stealing 3, therefore, inches from each window. Doesn't sound like much and I probably won't notice it after a while but I could still kick myself for that one. So, if you are doing windows and are replicating a house like mine where each window had at least 12 panes...ugh...don't forget to ask about the size of the frame!

The other thing is the pain in my leg. It's getting worse and feels like it's burning. In moving suddenly I felt like I'd torn a muscle.  OUCH!  So today, when I meet with the surgeon, I have to ask her about what that's all about.

But there are things still (amazingly - but not really) to be thankful for. Art Arbour who is part of CPT in Hebron where he spends his days shepherding Palestinian children through checkpoints and keeping them safe from harassment by Jewish settlers in the settlements that cut Hebron in two, called. Using his iPad2 from his rooftop at midnight in Hebron. We had the most wonderful almost langourus (Sp?) conversation. I was just so touched that he would call and he's been keeping up on what's happening through this blog.  And my dear friend Raandi called too. Another long talk. Both ended as if we were sorry to let each other go. Real conversations,  like little Visitations, rejoicing, commenting, laughing, crying at  both the big and little.  Perhaps that's just to say that life and love are so so often in the details.

Monday 24 October 2011

One nineteen and not all is well...

If it's not one damn thing it's another... Here I thought I'd almost licked the sleep problem by getting tired. I almost fell asleep tonight at my new makeshift desk. All the furniture has been pushed to create a little cozy rectangle around the fireplace. Tomorrow aka today in six hours or so they are coming with the new windows! And all of a sudden I have a scratchy throat and am hacking and not able to sleep. I'm noteven taking the oxy and thought I'd try skipping the Adavin. But no such luck. I'm not wide awake just awake enough to be annoyed at being so.
Thank god John and Sue and Franca came over last night to help move everything away from the soon to be new windows. And as poor Sue remarked as she moved another box of books into my so called library" you have too much stuff". I do! And I am loving the bare walls, the curtains gone, the unimpeded space. I have bite the bullet and get rid of the old magazines, bits of paper etc. Why this attachment to ephemera? Maybe it's because it disguises the awful fact that we too are just that - ephemeral! It's as if our lives were being swept away by time, by the drip drip drip of daily living. Not sleeping is probably a subconscious resistance to life slipping through our fingers.

Better stop now...before I go over the edge on this one.

Saturday 22 October 2011

Saturday night fever and other ruminations

God bless Jenny who's been reading this and knows the trouble I've been having getting to sleep. Today she came to visit and brought a brilliant book/ maybe journAl called I can't Sleep: a normal for passing the time when insomnia strikes and my brain is circling in on itself, cannibalizing the trivialities of the day and exaggerating the ticking of the clock, etc etc all in increasingly smaller letters on the cover almost like a eye chart.
Well, it's good to know, I guess, that I am not alone and that there are enough of us out there to constitute a profitable little niche market for some clever publisher. it also full of funny, witty , pithy, wise and sad sayings by famous and infamous people who are all those same things. Another day I'll put some of the quotes in here.
I want to put down all the wonderful things that happened this week..like Karen visiting and bringing fabulous soup( cauliflower.. No milk) and bread. And stewed plums and frozen squash soup. That same day Marianna and Lesley B visiting bringing fabulous homemade macaroons and cookies and tabbouleh. So I unfroze the squash soup, sliced up the last of mom and dad's tomatoes and found the last bottle of wine and we had dinner.
The next day was a followup with my doctor who unfortunately wSnt there but it turnout I am heLing well anyway. Even if it feels like it is taking forever.
Now I feel my one good eye getting too tired to stAy open even enough to keep writing ESP on this iPhone.
So.. Thank you too Joanne and patti for coming to visit and make sure I was alright. Andbesides being tired and all the other et ceteras previously mentioned,I M. Mostly Ian glad for the slow steady progress to wellness. Here's hoping at any rate.
And what can one say about Bernard who came bearing a pannier of wondrous gifts a delicacies.. Homemade unbelievay delicious mushroom soup , sourdough bread and a nut cake that was just too beautiful..

Tuesday 18 October 2011

Tears and frustrations after midnight...

Last night was my first time out "in public". I went to my book club. MJ picked me up with author Keith Leckie, the author of Coppermine, the book we had all read and were going to discuss. It was a wonderful evening and I was so happy to see my bookies after at least 4 or 5 months. Here's the frustrating part..I was dressed up (nice new olivy green jeans bought on sale, black turtleneck, and one of those slimming black sweaters  with long pointy front thingys (word loss may have accompanied my uterus)..but just about 20 minutes into the talk I started to get restless, and had trouble breathing, and coughing and actually got a bit panicky. I went outside to try to breathe deeper. This is an ongoing problem. So the frustration is that I am not yet ready to venture forth in crowds. I need to spend more time at home or at least in pajamas.

Tears...today, now, is my nephew Paolo's birthday. He's  seventeen. He's young and beautiful and I love him almost too much. And I remember his birth (yes, to my quite dear sister Bruna who doesn't  read my blog...I'm going to stop mentioning this now) as if it were yesterday. Because I was there with her. And just thinking about it makes me cry. We all cried then. Because it was so momentous...a new human being...part of us, part of me me even though he wasn't from my own womb. I'll never get over seeing that precious little being open his eyes for the first time. I thought then that he looked like a little lamb being born. It makes me cry now just thinking about it. Which is fine and good but frustrating because I get all stuffed up and can't breath again...even though his birth was one of the most wondrous moments of my life...

It's just gonna be one of those nights...I'm going upstairs to bed now, to breath deep and say Hail Marys until sleep finally comes...

Saturday 15 October 2011

Musical beds and other stories...

One of the fun things about writing this blog is that subject line...much like a good title can sell a book, a good headline can intrigue readers ...except of course my sister Bruna who doesn't read my blog and suggested that I read it to her. To think she's a beneficiary in my will!
Anyway, piquing though that header might be, it is no where near as piquant as it could ( or maybe should!) be. Today was simply moving day chez moi. Blair and Blaine who have been living here at Cowan while their own place is being renovated moved to Prill's from Downstairs where I only half-jokingly called them my indentured servants. They meticulously painted the hallway and Mary Fran's apt and with just their designers eyes turned it into something a
Worthy of Better Homes Than Ours.. Very stylish with little moe that a well applied lick of paint and subtle rearrangements of what was already there...so gone are the boys. Mary fran came home last night and loved it.. ESP the new tap that doesn't drip! And prill is now here for the next week or so as my "night nurse".. Her brother Jeff asked me if I'd seen Misery with Kathy Bates insinuating the obvious. Aren't siblings the best!
My world is big and small at the same time. I went up to my folks because I also needed more oxy to get me through the next visit to my doctor. I am Trying to get down to two a day.,today, however, I was up to four. Burning pain in my belly and now in my right leg woke me up in the middle of the night. Rowena says burning indicates nerve involvement. This was confirmed casually in phone conversation with Bill, Dr. Bill Schultz that would be.. So that's something new for me. These days It's as if I'm in a crazy orbit...touching here and there but not with any specific timing or regularity.. There's a name for that in Astronomy isn't there?but all contained in what has become my new little universe.

Thursday 13 October 2011

"What awful fucking luck" and other great responses to my reality...

That's what my crazy wild Irish friend Brendan wrote back when I told him about my cancer. I responded that, publishing types that we both are, it had the makings of a great book title. I coupled it with my "prayer slut" idea...to come up with "The Awful Fucking Luck of Me or How I Became a Prayer Slut".  I don't know... it has a bit of a ring to it, don't you think?  I loved him for saying what is in fact true. Damn it, cancer stinks.But the whole thing did make me grin from ear to ear and laugh on the inside (better to do this to safe the stitchwork).  Nice to do that when the pain kicks in and you're not sure whether the oxy and Adivin is going to do the magic thing and take the pain away AND let you sleep all night through. Although it did last night and for that I am grateful.

Every day comes with its own small victories, surprises...and they are all embarrasingly ordinary, banal really...that's why I haven't written for the last few days. No great revelations, no deep thoughts. Just things like: Not so constipated -boy, that' feels great!; I can bend my leg like so and it doesn't hurt - isn't that terrific?; I slept through the night - OMG, that is so great... Day by day, trying to stay calm, listen to my body, not over-do, and on and on an on.

Inc by inch, row by row, gonna watch my stitches go...

Sunday 9 October 2011

Mi stringe il cuor...

I think it's from an opera.. But here in the middle of the night, that wave of sadness came over me. It might be hormonal. Rowena warned me about this because of the hysterectomy. But I was also thanksgiving today and we had a beautiful meal. My sweet little mother put herself out to make her incredible gnocchi from scratch, little angel pillows of potato dough, light as a feather. Bruna, my deR sister who doesn't evn read this blog(harrumph!) brought the gift of wonderful Torta de mele, apple cake, for me from her friend Anna. I was just floored by this amazing generosity all around me. I think it was my mother packing me up with stewed prunes, baked apples, frozen packets of 'bledis' beet tops, good for me, trying to not betray the worry for me being home without someone to take care of mr. But I saw it cross her face. Mara Q came by back from her triP to Italy and Austria with the loveliest little handcarved nativity with a liile baby Jesus that come out of his mothers lap. Then Bruna and Paolo drove me home. Paolo my handsome almost 17 year old nephew..so much love poured out on that boy from all of us..me his Zazz "can I hug you?" he's shy and unexpectedly solicitous. I know he worries too. We all do. CAlm on the surface, anxious underneath, afraid to say any of that out loud. And that's why tonight I cried maybe for the first time. Prill was here and sat with me as I kept breaking down...until I was calm and able to breathe deeply again... It's probably the hormones but that doesn't mean my heart isn't wrung or wrenched or just wrapped tight by all of this. Sad, blessed, grateful all the while and allay the same time.

Saturday 8 October 2011

It's not over til its over

Ive ben home almost two whole days now. Prill and Rowena packed me up from mom and dad's and we made our way slowly down to Parkdale, avoiding as much traffic as we could and as many bumps in the orad as we could. because bumping doesn't help, I'm here to tell you. I couldn't wait to open the door of my house. The Hemp in the foyer is perfect. The Farrow and Ball Blue Ground is a nice change but I'm not 100% sure yet but it is a great improvement. On looking at it again I am tempted to call i Immaculate Conception Blue..not my favourite colour..but it works with the wood and it'll be there until I can't stand it anymore. Which will be a few years yet.

Prill and Rowe made up the beds upstairs, one for me, one for Nurse Rowena. What a privilege to have one's own friend and nurse to calm all the uneasiness that still beleaguers. me.
It's hard to know if it's the drugs. I am down to one oxy when needed and trying to do with extra strength Tylenols . I have Adavin for night time but I am afraid to take it. I am afraid of letting go.

Blaine, God bless his little OCD soul, cleared all the decks in the kitchen and, even though it took a while to find a few things, it was immeasurably improved. And I meekly agreed I would do my best, do my duty, to God and to my Blaine to try to keep a place for everything and everything in it's place. ("For now" the little demon in me whispered).

The first night, I didn't sleep well again even though I took the Adavin. All this is boring talk, I know. If things don't go well, I will not likely be one of those people of whom it is said, "oh,..she was in a lot of pain..but she never complained". I am not sure I will be an award-winning stoic.  But I am determined to document the process, the thoughts, the feelings of what I am going through. I cannot imagine I am so different from everyone else. And it sometimes gives you courage to keep going when you know it's part of the process and not just something that will never end.

Like falling asleep. Like the problems with constipation. Update...last night I tried a suppository. Wasn't more impressively successful that the Sennokot or Colace (red  pills).  This is maybe the most annoying part of the recovery. I am afraid to eat anything I think may constrict or impede. And I will ask Prill to get me something Rowe said is called TUCKS which are little pads that ease bum pain in the you know what...which is, of course, burning because of the constant effort.

This morning Rowena left after kindly spending the night by my side til I finally fell asleep on the couch (where I often fell asleep anyway pre surgery). I might try it again tonight. I saw her this morning as she left for Carleton Place and home with Nic and Kate at about 7:28. Later I saw she'd left a little note: Lauretta  you were sleeping deeply. I love you. HEAL. REST.  Rowena.

Thank you for making me feel so safe, Rowena. It means so much. It makes me want to do the same for someone else. That "not being alone".."don't let me die alone" etc. is something we hear echoed in tales of the sick and dying. Perhaps it's because we are not meant to be alone. We are born from someone. We started connected. So it is some how terrible if we leave disconnected.

Anyway, then  I hauled myself up to my own true bed and slept for a couple more hours. Then down here after 10.

Blair, my dear friend, came brightly up the stairs with two soft boiled eggs for breakfast just as I was about to tuck into my roughage and fibre filled cereal. So instead I had eggs, a bit of bread and 1 can of V8.that's probably good, right?  That shouldn't hurt.

It's been a glorious two days and I can't tell how exquisite the light has been coming through my eyebrow window in the morning, all golden and green, just the top branches of the giant maple in front of the hous. I feel like I'm in a tree-top aerie.And when I come down, it seems to me that today the sky is the colour of the hallway walls and I like that Idea. The trees are all golden with bits of red. And I look around my room and see all the signs of love and well wishes...Dorothea's beautiful orchid, John and Sue's jade plant with a heart shaped stone imbeeded in it that says "family", Ron's card with a maple leaf waxed and pressed to it, Rowena's Roncie treats: organic figs, Panda licorice, halvah and Barley's Naturally Better Mints. Another beautiful unexpected bouquet of fuschia day lilies and snapdragons from Sergio, Antonia, Delia and her Mihevcs! I am feeling so coddled and cared for.

So, two days and now, early this morning, Rowena left to go back to her family. Prill will come for the weekend and then ?. .not sure if I will go back home to recouperate some more or just take one day at a time as it comes here. Blair and Blaine will be hear. Mary Fran will be back on the 15th. I have lots of stuff all around me to do and read and places to lie down and snooze if I wish.

We'll see. We'll see.  Happy Thanksgiving, Deo Gratias,  for all this.

Wednesday 5 October 2011

The apple of our eyes is gone

Such sad news to hear that Steve Jobs died today I was going to say " passed away" which certainly sounds better than he "passed" which seems to be the current parlance. We are afraid to say "died". He touched so many lives, he had so much passion. He wanted these amazing objects he created to unite people. I love him and thank him because he cared for beauty and science. Thank you Steve Jobs! You let us play with the wonders of the universe. You delighted in delighting us. Thank you. May light embrace you!

Tuesday 4 October 2011

Taking Adivan-tage of the situation...

Sometime you just cain't hep yoself.
Anyway I am under the influence as I write this. Rowena is here in the next room "on call". Could I ever ask for better friends? What would be the point? I already have them. Still a bit of pain, still a bit of breathing panic but last night I just went to sleep and woke almost 8 hrs later. I can't recall sleeping like that in years. Also slept all morning and then more in the aft. Wow!
Good night, all you angels of mercy gathered round me!

Monday 3 October 2011

Being in stitches, busting a gut and Harry Belafonte

Be prepared for a series of bad puns...
Let's start with Harry Belafonte... Or in my case it's more hairy belly fountain... That's was my belly was.. Actually more like a fountain fire.. That's what it felt like.. Hot around those 40 plus stitches.. Which came ot today. I asked Dr Paula to save them for me.. I might do something crafty with them, I said. Earrings? Necklace? Who knows? But they look like little sideways crabs- 2 legs/arms with a little peak in the middle. Cancer..the ultimate crab.
Busting a gut.. Now I possibly could given that the stitches are out each side is now pulling for it's own, I guess. I find myself protectively holding my belly all day in case it ecides it doesn't want to stay friends with the other side..
Andone more thing before I hopefully deft off to dreamland.. The last two nights found me sleepless until 4 and 3 am respectively. Why? I felt one night I cVoulnt breathe and last night I couldn't swallow. Not being able to sleep or being awakened when you are just about todrift off by the need to breathe or swallow.. All resulting in no sleep for hours.. You understand how it can make you crazy. Well guess what, folks? There's an answer: it's called Adivan.
Thank jean, Rowena for the suggestion to take it! Thanks Dr pPaula for realizing my reactionsare probably more to anxiety than asthma. I will let you know if any of this is true. Nighty night!

Saturday 1 October 2011

Is there anything more boring than reading about..

Wacky drems someone else had? No, probably not. Because dreams mean something just to us. We alone have the keys to their interpretation if there's one to be had. They tend to inspired by any number of things, have always been endlessly fascinating to me... But sometimes it's just the result of eating bananas before one goes to bed or, these days, the oxycodone.

And one more thing.. If you are reading this..know that I realize there are numerous typos and crazy "intelligent" word substtutios automatically made by the word program in blogspot and I don't catch them all . Once I get bak to my laptop.. All this since sept 22 has been on the iPhone .. Entries may be less unintentionally cryptic!

The mosque, oxycondone and becoming a prayer slut ...

Spending a lot of time in bed, half upright near a window lets you watch the day go by, the sun shine, the clouds gather, the lighting flash, the shadows come, the light rise.
And while doing this, I see a light pole and a rounded tree canopy transform itself as dusk fell into a very credible profile of a mosque and minaret.. So like Istanbul that I was instantly transported to that memory ..I even tried to take a series of pictures with mi iPhone but they don't capture it..only my eyes and imagination make it real .. A lot of what's been happening these days has been a bit like that.. One thing suggesting another suggesting another picking some other thought along the way and pretty soon I would find myself somewhere else entirely.
The days are punctuated by 4 p's: pain, pills, pee and poo. Now I write all the times down, just so I remember what to take when. Often I an jolted almost out of bed by the urgency to take care of any one of the ah- four- mentioned.
I note this not because thepain is so great. It just is, the day's currwhy phrase-du-jour, what it is. Knowing full well that I am not experiencing the half of it in terms of the pain I know is out there and being experienced by so so many.
The oxycodone: my little blue friend that simultaneously calms and frightens me ... And constipated. I was a bit panicked yesterday afternoon when the scrip hadn't
been filled and I had only 4 left til Monday but Dr Paula and mom's pharmacist came through and now I should be
good for the week. Now if I can figure out when exactly to take the senokot and colace for a smooth transitio I will be set . The oxy also probably causes crazy dreams..like today's which Laister variously of mom , Bruna ( who had in reality just arrived from OttawA)Dressed like middle Easter
Women in shiny caftans. I was somewhat paralyzed but when I spoke was saying " I am having a thtwoke , I am having a thtwoke .. Get me to a hothpitow" my mom saying "no you're going to be fine" me mumbling some more, Bruna saying okay let's go, me picking up pOlo who of clued was a baby and saying "I can't carry him . I have cancer. I've ha a hysterectomy . I can't carry more than 10 lbs" all the while running to find a car to go the the hospital . It turns out we are in an Italian town in the Veneto region. We are at a dead end and I an still carrying Paolo thinking he doesn't weigh much at all and he's so sweet a cuddly and smiling at me. We have guide taking us back to town. She says something about Polyps. Utero" and wee Paola asks "what's a ootero?" then we land outside a fish market where mom is trying to bribe a ride to the hospital by buying a huge fish and putting 40 euro or 40 thousand lira.. The money falls out.. I put it back .. We need to get to the nearest hospital we say oh Los of hospitals here but you need to go to Udine and we all pile in to a station wagon that was there all alongno bribe needed. And were packed in all of a sudden singing funny songs. And amusing the other shy children who never sang silly songs in a car ona road trip .
Thenstartled awake by Zia Lucy and Remy's visit .
All to segue to this additionally improbable observation.. During this time away from books, computers, fact- checking, etc as I write this blog.. I am just dipping into what's in the soupy brain mine... This sea of uncertain memory.

Prayer slut: And sometimes, new things suggest themselves. When I got a kind note from a publishing colleague that he was keeping me in thoughts and prayers I wrote back thanking him saying it was a real consolation and that I wAs becoming a bit o a prayer slut.
I have no idea what that really means although I'm working hard on a definition but it made me
Laugh just to think and then say it and then send it that it makesme think it's probably true.