My Sister Called Me A Drama Queen

Just over a week ago I had the privilege of bringing forth to this world my fifth kidney stone.  Yes, those of you that have suffered through this personally know the agony it can cause.  I was told my a female doctor that she would rather give birth than pass a stone...that's all I'm saying.

It started, as usual, in the wee hours of the night, but not as strong as usual.  So I wasn't convinced it was a stone.  Until later on in the morning when I was driving to an appointment....I then became sure.  Mother flogger!!!!  But, also strangely, the pain subsided to the point that I though maybe I was not so bad off.  I went home in the hopes of sleeping it off.  That's when my MD sister called me a drama queen.  Cancer wasn't enough, I need to have a stone as well.  I told her I was sympathy deprived...so there.  Anyhooooooo, long story a tad shorter, I drove myself to emergency to get hopped on drugs so I can be pain free, my insides could relax and lo and behold, 5 hours later, shortly after I got home, I passed the stone.  First time I caught the bugger.  I'll spare you the details though. But I'm feeling much better now, thanks for asking.

Which leads me to considerations on health.  Maybe I'm dense, maybe I'm naive.  Scratch that, I'm both of those things and I think they are intrinsically linked together.  I like to think the naivete takes precedence but one never knows. Which is why I say that I do know that one never thinks of their health until they are in poor health.  Be it a stone, cancer or mental health.  Ignorance is bliss and the absence of outward signs must mean everything is ok. I profess to being uncomfortable with mental health.  Not that I am unsympathetic, just that I have very little personal experience to relate to and I find it hard to say the right thing or even if I should say anything.  As far as I know I have no anxieties, no depression and no signs of anything coming close to mental health issues.  So when confronted with an issue with a loved one I find myself casting about for the right thing to say.  Or worse, that I might make things worse somehow...people talk to me for some reason and I find they can confide a lot of things to me.  Always been that way.  I suspect it will continue.  Part of me likes it and part of me wonders why me.  Maybe I have a kind face.  Maybe that explains why complete strangers will tell me about they're affairs...and by affairs I mean sexual and emotional dalliances.  It goes from how did you hurt your foot to my ass hole husband is having an affair so I am having one as well.  Uhhhhmmmmm, ok then.

I told you I rambled....get over it.

My love and support to those dealing with all kinds of health concerns but especially for those going through mental health issues.  That not so silent fuck wad of an issue that you can't wrestle to the ground easily.  If you're "mine", you can always talk to me.  I may not have the right words but I do listen well....oh wait, maybe that's why people talk to me.  I listen.

Well....enough rambling.  I'm going home.  Feed my cat and hopefully spend sometime with my girlfriend.

Remind me to talk about "we decided to"

Ciao
D      

The one where they go to New York

And now I know why New York is considered one of the greatest cities in the world.  What an amazing time we had in the Big Apple!  While the trip was short we packed all the things first time tourists would do and walked a gazillion miles doing it.  The people, the sights, the sounds...all of it too much and yet not enough.  I want more.  Or maybe I just want to experience more and it does not matter where.  Go west young man.  Go east too....fuck, go everywhere.

I won't bore you with the trivial stuff and recount everything that we did or saw.  In my case out of one eye ha-ha.  I will say the Empire State Building at night was truly amazing and walking past The Dakota and seeing the Imagine mosaic was slightly surreal.  "What if" comes to mind.

It occurs to me that the "what ifs" are what we spend a lot of time and brain power on.  I don't know if that's god or bad, but I think it can certainly go in the bad direction when it becomes a crutch or an excuse.  What if I didn't have symptoms in my eye?  Well, I'd be dead at some point in the not so distant future with this aggressive bastard.  What if we had stayed together?  What if I had kissed her in grade 11?  What if I call her?  What if say fuck it and move to Santorini?  The last one I'd do pretty quickly by the way.

Point being that living in the what may have been or what may be can be potentially dangerous.  And most certainly not healthy.  My mantra these days, aside from Fuck Cancer, is I want to do stuff instead of own stuff.  A new couch or trip to wherever?  Want to take a guess at my choice?  Right. Let the cat keep tearing up that 20 year old couch, I'm heading to Lunenburg with my love.

In my guise as a chef I have used some little nuggets of advice to youngsters coming up in the business.  My favourite is "be a sponge".  Soak it all in.  The good , the bad and the ugly.  In work life I have probably learned more from watching morons do the wrong thing and being just smart enough to realize that the opposite way is the right way.  I apply that little nugget of advice to everything. And smile....lots of smiling.

That, I noticed, was abundant in New York.  Despite the doom and gloom, the weather, the crowds and the damn tourists....people smiled.  I like that.

And that is all for today my loyal followers....ha-ha

Ciao

Why is everything so blurry?

Hmmmmmm, I'm five days removed from the removal of a radioactive disk that was inserted behind my eye (gross) and I'm blurry eyed in my left eye and I can see blood when I look into the light.  And I didn't get super powers from the radiation.  I did, however, get a couple of pirate eye patches.  So I guess that is something.

The procedure went well according to the wonderful doctors in Toronto.  Oh, while I'm thinking about it.  I can't say enough about the mostly excellent people I had to deal with for a week in good ole Hogtown.  The nurses on my overnight stay were great.  The doctors were informative and laughed at my jokes (pity laughs maybe?) and the whole process seemed to go very well and surprisingly quick.  I guess they don't fuck around when it comes to cancer.  Diagnosed on December 28th and treatment finished on January 27th.  That seems pretty quick to me.

So, now what?  Years of follow up and monitoring.  This little bastard ends up in the liver if it metastasises for some unknown reason, so you know I'll be having regular blood work and ultra sounds.  Oh well....I'm alive and that, my non existent readers, is the important thing.  

Talking about important things.  My family and friends have been truly great.  From my sister who essentially saved my life by pushing me to check out the eye thing back in December (it might be a stroke you idiot) and being a voice of reason and compassion along with her sense of humour.  Which I will take credit for, as we are so very alike and I'm the oldest.  This fact drives my mom absolutely batty of course. While we look to make fun of and ridicule the whole process my mom has taken all this very hard. Understandable of course, I have no idea how I would react if something similar was dropped on one of my kids and I have no desire to find out.  Sure it's hard but I know she'll pull it together.  My dad is a little more quiet on the subject but certainly digs when he can....he still may be in shock from hitting his head.  

My girlfriend has been great beyond belief and I love her dearly for her support and attitude. In the few moments after telling her the diagnosis I had a few tears.  By the time we got to the main floor, after a short elevator ride, we were poking fun at it and she was the first to text me a Cyclops eye. About an hour or so later....now that's love.

Scott, who had to deal with his own heart breaking loss to cancer, is a true best friend.  Along with Anna, Ann, Tania, Nancy, my extended family and all my friends that I decided to tell...the support is overwhelming and so appreciated.

And now I'm back at work only really thinking about going to New York at the end of the week. Four days of whatever Barb and I can think of doing.  It will be amazing I am sure. 

More to come......when I remember to write of course 

Ciao

Lucy!! You have some splaining to do!!!

Let me begin by saying this isn't simply about putting voice to what I may or may not be going through with this diagnosis. Like many people I feel the desire to say something...probably many things, so this is as good a reason to start as any.  I will be out in left field, I will rant, I will pontificate and I will try to be coherent. No guarantees of course.

I guess a little background may be useful. Specifically the "drive much" title.  Many moons ago, in my younger days back in Toronto, I was what some would call an aggressive driver.  You say aggressive I say awesome...whatever.  One of the early realizations for me was that I had little patience for people that could not drive as well, keep up or worse - get in my way. "Drive much" was condemnation of these people driving near me.  It came to be all encompassing for me with regards to the "awesome" people out there.  And by awesome I mean stupid.  Not stupid because you don't understand how four plus four equals eight, rather the ones that simply don't get it. The ones that never learn from anything and you are left wondering how they managed to live this long. Drive much?

The throat punching comes from another blog that I was alerted to. I liked the name and figured there were all kinds of us out there. So there you have it, don't "drive" around me or you might get punched in the throat.

Ciao

Do you smoke?

"Do you smoke?"  Shit!  No I don't.  Shit!

And that's when I knew I was in for some crap ass news within a few minutes.  God I hate it when I am right all the time.  Within 10 minutes I got the awesome news that I had melanoma on my eye. Fucking eye cancer!  That's a thing now?

Ok doc, who, by the way, looks like he belongs in a James Bond movie as the seemingly indestructible Russian super villain, what now?

And that was last Monday for me.  Not a great way to end the year and certainly not the way to begin a new year.  But there it is.  I've always had the suspicion that cancer would find me.  I had a thing yanked off me years ago but this is a tad more ominous.  Sidebar - when I had that little cancer bump taken off the side of my face I had to pay $75 because it was considered cosmetic.  When I went back in the week after the doctor said she had good news and bad news.  Good news I was getting my $75 back.  Bad news I had a cancer dot removed from my face.  Really?  Keep the money and tell me it's something else.  Oh....if you're gonna get cancer this is the one you want.....insert raised eyebrow emoticon here....and directly from the Idi Amin school of bedside manner....WTF

But I digress.

I should warn you now that my mind rambles.  A lot.  Sometimes I don't even know what the fuck I am talking about or what my point is.  Suffice to say that this little attempt at coherence is really about shaking my fist a bit, thanks Scott for the phrase, I'm stealing it.

I'm not overly worried but it is cancer after all and you never know with that bastard asshole what can happen.  And in my world asshole is about as bad as it gets.  So fuck cancer and let's see what this puppy can do over the next little while.

Ciao
D