Blue Heron at Hume Park

Timing is everything!

Styling…

Well I have motored through this week with my head in business mode.  I am an accountant by day and I will leave it to your sweet little imagination what I am by night.

Okay, maybe I won’t leave it to your sweet little imagination.

I have started a few posts that just seemed to head into the great beyond without me.  Rather annoying isn’t it?  You get this great idea and start to write about it then you just hit the wall.

I wouldn’t call it writer’s block.  I really think my head has just been in a different head space this week.  As mentioned previously, for approximately 5 months I was in a bit of fog as a result of treatment.

The last two weeks a sharpness and clarity to the thought process has begun to return and with it the need to go back and review a multitude of things to ensure that I did them correctly, particularly here at work.  It is also year-end, so reviewing and transferring information over is part and parcel of the job.

Now I am thinking about the direction to take this blog of mine.  Let’s face it, this thing has become a bit of maze.  When I began this my daughter advised me to stick to one topic.  So I took what she said to heart and decided to focus health issues. For the most part I’ve kind of stayed with this theme.

Who knew my health was going to be so bloody dramatic?

Then, of course,  I got into my rants inspired by the daily news.  I voiced my opinions on any number topics. I thought of starting a series devoted to fiction.  The only thing I managed was the Christmas short story.

After two years of being on this site I still don’t know how to use many of its functions because, in all honesty, I’ve never taken the time to explore them.

I read other members blogs and I love many of them.  They get really good feedback.  I would love to hear from readers on what I am doing right and what I am doing wrong.  I can be long-winded, though I do try to monitor this.

One blog I recently read spoke of letting her readers get to know her better.  In other words, she wanted to bring a bit more of her personality into her posts.

I pondered this then wondered if perhaps I’ve been a little too personal.  I haven’t brought just my personality to this thing but my daily existence and then some.

Was this a bit of turn off?  Others say they like a blog that can take you right into what the writer is feeling.  I may be guilty of having done this a time or two.

Many of the blogs I really admire do research on their topics.  They are skillfully put together and provoke thought and insight.

I tend to just write whatever is on my mind at any given moment.  Very little research goes into what I’m writing about.  If I am writing about a specific incident I will often check the facts…dates, times, names.  That sort of thing.

I started this blog to practice the art of being a good wordsmith.  I should try now to add some structure and discipline to the effort perhaps.

Many blogs over the past week speak of resolutions now that 2014 has arrived.  In fact, I have a writer’s group meeting tonight after work and we will be discussing our writing goals for the year ahead.  I will think on this.

I would like to make some changes.  Suggestions are most welcome!

Swimming Upstream

In the face of adversity, lay back and drift on down the river.  That is what I would like to do, however, the problem with this theory is that eventually you could hit rapids which are extremely troubled waters indeed!

I feel like I’ve been swimming upstream for a very long time and I just decided to jump up in the air to see how far I’ve gotten. It looked eerily familiar to the last time I jumped out of the water.

It has been a tough week.  Let’s leave it at that.

A head cold sidelined me for the majority of the week.

Radiation begins next week.  Once I am through this treatment then I can truly get on with my life.  At the moment I feel restrained.

Then I read a letter that Burton Cummings of band The Guess Who wrote and published.  In it he talks about all the negative issues that are happening world wide.  He talks about his mother’s passing and laying her to rest and perhaps looking at his own mortality.

It had an impact and I replied. Whether he will see the response or not, I can’t say.  I hope so.  Below is my response.

Burton,

With everything that is going on these days it is easy to feel overwhelmed, defeated.  

Yet I’ve caught glimpses of the beauty of the human spirit, of my true self and that is what drives me forward.  

Earlier this year I was diagnosed with Cancer and I have undergone surgery and am now finishing up treatment.  

I have fared exceptionally well.  What I am taking from this experience is the urgency to live my life to its fullest potential.  

I am letting go of ego and inviting love in.  I am sending prayers out to the universe daily with the hope that this little filament of energy will join others and move to shift this world of ours to better place.  

These are little things, I know.  I blog about the need to change how we do business and challenge everyone to re-think profit.  

It starts with each of us.  

I am delighted that you are still singing, Burton.  Music is a balm to so many.  The reason you are so good at what you do is your passion for it.  

You have never lost your love for it, in fact, it has likely increased.  

Hope your solo shows are a fabulous and an intimate  connection for you.  

Change can happen and will.  It won’t be easy to adjust how we function in this world, but it is possible.  And this, I will always believe.

Peace. 

Nancy

And you know, I’m glad I happened upon his letter.  It helped to lift me up and shake some of the agitation and irritability I have been experiencing off.  So I will get on with this and continue to plan and move forward.

At lunch today I commented on how tired I was wearing this wig.  Plaintively I whined with the eloquence of a spoiled child…”It’s itchy, its hot, it always looks the same!”  One of my co-workers smiled and said, “Then take it off.”

Again, a rather insightful moment and as my other co-worker pointed out.  “You are entitled to have a rant or two.”

Indeed.  Most of our conversation was in jest as well.  I am not one to bitch about my lot in life.  And things are getting better and will continue to do so.

I have been quiet this week…but then I don’t want the heaviness I feel at times to weigh on anyone reading my posts.

And with that…I hope you all have a fabulous Friday and a great weekend.

Namaste.

Moved by Music…The End of the World (As I knew it)

There are several songs that I hear that reach inside and take me back to a certain place in time.  One of the most powerful songs that triggers a particular memory is Elton John’s “Don’t let the Sun go down on me.”

I was sixteen years of age and falling apart.  Life at home was going from bad to worse and with no foundation to stand on, I was sinking fast.  A war had been waged that I had no hope of winning.  A dark rage had claimed me.  Where I once feared my father’s wrath, now I challenged it.  

Foolish I suppose.  Still, I’d been pushed too far.  So for several months I was continually getting kicked out the house.  I stayed briefly with friends only to return to try once again. Only problem with this was there was no negotiations.  Each time I came home, the noose tightened.  

I was trying to tolerate a situation that was impossible.  

I came home from school one afternoon to find my belongings packed.  I looked at my father and asked him what was going on.  

“Get in the car.” he instructed.  

The fear that I felt in that moment was paralyzing. 

We began driving and he told that he had made me a ward of the court.  He was taking me to a group home.  

I stared at him.  This was crazy.  I wasn’t bad.  We had our differences, yes, but I was really trying to work things out.  

Crying, I begged him not to do this thing. 

Without looking at me he explained, “I have the chance to start a new life with Flo and you just don’t fit in that life.  I think this will be the best for all of us.”

Flo was his girlfriend.  She wanted me gone.  My sisters had all moved out upon graduation.  She wasn’t about to wait for another year and half while I finished up my schooling.  

As I stared out the car window that evening, my face a hot mess of tears, Elton John’s song came on the radio.   I felt in that moment he was singing it for me, to me.

I was being discarded, then again I had never really felt that I mattered to begin with.   After a lifetime of abuse, I now felt reduced to nothing.  Dad was effectively taking out the trash.  

I found myself living with five other discarded humans.  

Every time I hear that song I am reminded of the girl that was in that car.  Hurt, confused and lost.  The next few years were painful ones but somehow I made it out of a maze of madness to where I am today.  

Songs are in many ways markers to me.  Each one that is on my list has some significance for a particular point in time.  

Music is a balm.  Somehow I reassured myself that if someone could articulate in song what I was feeling, then I wasn’t alone.  Not really.  

And oddly enough, music helped pull me through some of the toughest moments of my life.  

 

Quirks

An interesting observation yesterday.  The past few days I’ve been something of an old grump.  I really don’t like being this way.  It’s the chemo, man!  Yes, as stated this time out there was a bit more of a punch to the effects.

I do not make for a good patient.  I am well aware of this fact.  Hell, I get sick and I’m just this irritable child that sulks about with an air of petulance.  Give me an ice cream and I’m all better…for a while.

Okay, maybe I’m not that bad.  In any case the weird thing has been the numbness.  It is beginning to improve.  Here it is Sunday morning and the coffee taste reasonable.  Yesterday, I could not finish my morning cup.

Another interesting thing occurred yesterday.  As I put my wig on I became extremely annoyed that it looked ‘perfect’.  Not a damn hair out of place!  I can’t change the look either.  It’s just there.  Pull it on, take a comb to it to get all the pieces that are stuck underneath the cap out…and there I be.  Perfect!

Here is the lineup.  My school picture at 13 years of age.  My shaved head at age 55.  Me in the wig at age 55. 

Then I stopped and considered this reaction.  Was part of my being tied up with this weird relationship that I’ve had with my hair?  Was I feeling bereft at not having any hair to bitch about?  A totally pointless pursuit but one I opted to explore in any case.

I have a friend who had a short haircut that was for her ‘horrific’ at the age of 13 and she has had long hair in the same style ever since.  She is 55 years of age, the same as I am, and we’ve talked about this a few times.  She assures me she will never get her hair cut short ever again.  She is quite confident that she was traumatized at that point in her life and will never try to undo the trauma.

Weird.

Everyone loves the wig, by the way.  So for that brief moment yesterday, I hated it.  I despised its perfection.  Maybe because I was just feeling out of sorts I wanted to ‘take it out’ on something.  Lay blame, assign blame…I don’t know.

Weird.

The coffee isn’t tasting so much like metal and cardboard today.  Not the full richness that I am familiar with though.  I am done sulking.

I went for walk with a friend yesterday who asked about the comfort of the wig.  It is fine for the most part.  Sometimes if I have a ‘hot flash’ it gets a little itchy.  But as I explained, it feels like wearing a hat.  It doesn’t give me the sensation I have with my own hair.  So when I come home I hang it up.  I tried a few scarves and well, I look like some whacked out gypsy who lost her crystal ball.  I also don’t know how to arranged such things as I don’t wear them.

Now some people totally rock scarves.  And some people totally rock no hair at all.  I may have mentioned the girl I saw at the Cancer Agency who had just the most beautifully shaped shaved head.  Man, she looked awesome!

So again I have these strange little quirks that have reared up to perhaps give me a little more insight into this conglomerate known as ‘Nancy’.  And you know, I do understand the issue with my hair.  From as far back as I can remember my hair was trying to be sculpted into something it could never be.

Perhaps there is more to this than meets the eye.  I now sport a wig because it just wouldn’t ‘feel right’ to venture out into the public bald.  Oh, going swimming or exercising without the wig is necessary.  Still I have a certain look to maintain at the office.  I don’t know that I would feel comfortable bare-headed.  Strange.

I am working through these little quirks of mine though and trying to understand their origins a little better.  At the end of the day the hair thing is just this weird little hangup of mine.

It is a beautiful Sunday here.  I am going to finish up my domestic duties and get back out and have a walk about.  Maybe take a few pics of the fall foliage.

Enjoy your day and thanks for stopping by.

Peace.

Caught in this Whirlwind…

The effects of my final chemo treatment have been a little more dramatic than the previous two rounds, but at least I know that this is the end of this portion of treatment and I do not have to subject the body to this again.

It is a strange feeling to bite down and not feel anything.  The flavours that typically dance over my tongue are currently bland and insulting to the palate.  This will pass in a day or two.  I have actually gotten used to having no sensation on the bottom of my feet.  This too will improve in the next few days.

I considered staying home today.  If my condition doesn’t improve then I’ll take off early.

Yesterday it hit me of how consuming this whole cancer thing has been.  As much as I like to think that I’ve carried on with my life accordingly, in truth it has commandeered a fair amount of time this year.

I read some of my posts leading up to the discovery of the cancer.  Back in late February, early March I knew something was wrong with me though at the time I thought it heart related.  My energy levels were just tapping out and in a rather dramatic fashion.

I read my entry on when I went for my longest run prior to the 1/2 marathon and was whisked back to that morning and how hard I fought through the fatigue that would hit me every few kilometers until I finished up at English Bay close to 15 km later.  The rush was intoxicating.

And I miss running.  I am so looking forward to getting back into it.  Hopefully the numbness in my feet will have dissipated by the end of this month and I can get back to running in November.

I was reminded of when I first spoke with my doctor who first mentioned the ‘C’ word, then the specialist who insisted that it likely wasn’t cancer but some other less obtrusive ailment such as polyps or fibroids.  Then the diagnosis and it was confirmed that I did have cancer.  From there I entered into this vacuous whirlwind that has just grabbed hold and spit me through.  Here I am some six months later still not finished this ride and wanting to get off in the worst way.

I think I just felt so completely overwhelmed yesterday.  So far I’ve managed quite effectively at dealing with all of this.  I guess when the cat started to lick my hand last night and my first thought was that I could make him sick (yes, the toxins in my blood could come out in my sweat glands and there is the potential for ingesting some of this and causing a reaction), I was reminded once again of what is currently in my system and why.

And I have really tried to stay away from this line of thinking as well.

It has been an interesting journey none the less.  I have fought off the emotions that have tried to corral me, as they are now.  I am centering myself as we speak.  Moving the focus on the tasks at hand.  Try to crunch these numbers so that they will make sense.

Sometimes I wonder how all of this came into play and how we manipulate so many things in order to give it an appearance of what…I am not too certain.

It is a beautiful day outside and I will at some point go out and just breathe the air.  I really need to do that today.

Thanks for stopping by.

A Healing Plan

Has day four begins in the healing plan, I am contemplating for the first time how I feel about all this.  Physically I feel weaker. Even the words that typically cascade through my grey matter and end up on this screen seem to be at the bottom of an abyss these days and a part of me feels a little too lazy to dig down and retrieve them.

It could be the drugs, it could be body’s need to rest.  I do get sleepy quite easily.  It could be the heat.  It could be a combination of all of the above.

My daughter asked me the other day how I felt.  Did I feel hollow?  Could I tell nothing was there? I don’t think hollow would be the descriptive text I would use in this case.  Anyway it is too early to give an accurate telling.  I had reconciled that this part of my anatomy would be removed.  I’m cool with it.

A healing plan is in place. I am out walking a four block loop twice a day.  We are eating an uber healthy diet and I am being the best little patient, ever!

Vancouver entered into a heat wave this weekend as well, so part of the lethargy that I am feeling no doubt can be attributed to this.  Apparently I will no longer have hot flashes, which excites me to no end.  Can it be true? At the moment though I feel as though I am a singular sweat gland that has not closed in a millennium.

I am sitting here, eating my fruit salad and trying to stab a grape with my fork…it’s not going so well.

And what can I share with all of you that may be of interest in this experience?  Well,  there is a deeper resolve now to follow my passions.

At the end of this six week healing plan I will take my daughter out for a celebratory dinner and enjoy a brew or two.  I may decide upon a particularly good vintage as well. Vasser Felix Shiraz, look out!

Then I will be introducing the body to the gym again, to running, to movement. I will enjoy the freedom of it in a body reborn, in a body that is clean, in a body that is healthy.

What do I feel?

At this very moment a part of me knows the cancer is gone.  And there is a quiet joy coursing through me.  I am grateful. I am gazing at my secret garden and contemplating what sex will feel like once I am healed.  As the good doctor said, “Don’t put anything in your vagina for six weeks.”  I smiled at this.  “In other words, no sex?” And she smiled back.  “Yes. Exactly.”

In truth, I don’t feel particularly sexy.  I think that’s a given that having surgery may have dampen the mood, so to speak.  The next week I will be focusing on copy editing.  I was reviewing a few blogs earlier that I follow.  One woman is celebrating three months on here.  She has 42,000 hits and 4,050 followers.  This is still a part of blogging that I don’t really understand.  The marketing of it, developing traffic.  I suppose in time I’ll figure it out.  In the meantime, I’ll keep at it.  Much to focus on in the next week.

Enjoy your day all!

Quote of the Day

If I think I am, then I must be.

 

OMG DERBY DAY PONIES!!!!1!1!1111!!!!!1!!!

This just spoke to me so strongly. The beauty in youth, the freshness and joy in movement reminds me of how we are all connected.

To Boston With Love…From the Heart of a Runner

“…..reports are coming in of an explosion very close to the finish line at the Boston Marathon.  Stay tuned.”

I brought my head up from my work as the words from the radio filtered in.  An explosion?  At the Marathon?

I turned to the internet to find out what had happened.  It wasn’t just an explosion.  There were now two explosions…about a block apart and the word ‘bomb’ filtered into the mix.

This was for a moment inconceivable as these things usually are.  It takes a moment to acknowledge that someone would want to impart that type of horror for no purpose.  Because such violence really has no purpose.  It is ultimately meaningless.

It is meant to hurt, maim and crush people.  Nothing more.

Two people from my running group were racing at the Boston Marathon yesterday.  I immediately sent Lara, our group leader,  an email as did everyone else.  Were they okay?  Was she able to find out?

In quick order we did discover that both Siobhan and Serge had finished the race and were safe.  And I congratulate them on a job well done.  In fact, I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate all the runners who participated.

And to Lelisa Desisa a big shout out on a fabulous race.  He was the overall winner in yesterday.  The top female was Rita Jeptoo.

It is, I believe, important to acknowledge the purpose of yesterday’s event.  Moreover I would like to take a moment to acknowledge everyone who was there.  The volunteers, the firefighters, the police, the organizing committee.  Everyone who makes this event happen year after year.  May it always be so.

I know that the majority of the people there were much like Siobhan and Serge.  Everyday working people who love to run.  And the thing I have learned about running is how deeply personal it is for each of us.  When we are going into a race typically the person we are challenging is our self.  It is that drive born deep in our soul that pushes us forward.

I have spoken at length about what running means for me personally on this forum.  But I know too, members of my running group feel the same.  And in fairness I am not nearly as dedicated as many of them.  I think it highly unlikely that I will ever tackle a marathon.  I won’t say this will never happen…but it is unlikely.  Just training for the 1/2 marathon here in Vancouver has been such a remarkable challenge, so my admiration for those runners who not only go the distance…they challenge themselves to be their very best.  And being at the Boston were the people who challenged themselves to be their very best.  I salute each and every one of you.

The question remains as to why this occurred.  Acts of cowardice such as this find me just shaking my head and at a complete loss trying to comprehend they ‘why’ of it as it makes no sense at all.  I cannot imagine wanting to hurt another person let alone in this manner.

To whomever was responsible for this I can only say that if they think they were successful at avenging some asinine wrong they believe was done to them, they are sadly mistaken.

To all of you in Boston I offer my deepest sympathies for the atrocities that have been committed.  May you heal stronger and shine brighter than before.  I will be running with my group tonight and I know that in each of our hearts we will be honouring the fallen.  I will also be participating in our annual Sun Run this Sunday which is a 10KM event and in three weeks time I will be running my first 1/2 marathon.

I will run in memory of Martin who lost his young life but hoped for a better world.  Let’s make his wish come true.

Running gave me back a big part of my life and I will never surrender this ability unless I am physically unable to do so.  And to all of you that took part in this event be it as a participant, volunteer, spectator, policing, etc. I salute all of you.

Peace and love to all.