Pubes. . .

Yes, they fall out! And don't even get all embarrassed from reading that cuz some of you have asked me that question, so I know that even more of you are probably asking it in your heads.

My moustache--hasn't come out. So I guess not all hair is victim to chemo. Damn!

My armpit and leg hairs--I haven't noticed that they are falling out, but they've remained stubbly since I last shaved over a week ago. And I darenot shave now, because if I get cut, the chances of infection are pretty high.

Eyebrows and lashes--should fall out but haven't thus far.

I still have thin patches of hair on my head, mostly where my brain stem is right above my neck. But mostly, my head is just one big old white itchy noggin. I've been putting tea tree oil and gel on it to relieve the itchiness.

And the hairs on my arms, fingers and toes look unfazed. So much for me being like one of those creepy hairless cats, which I swear are the work of the devil.

Poor little Chloe is trying to understand the whole "Mama is sick" thing, and keeps telling me that her hair is falling out too. I'm not sure how to talk to a four-year-old about this stuff. It's a tough age. The programs at the cancer agency for kids with parents with cancer start at age 6, nothing for littler ones. But I'm just trying to keep her involved in whatever I can, to expose it rather than hide it and make her feel a part of the treatment and recovery, but I'm not sure if that's the right thing to do.

As for Mylo, he just keeps saying this and that hurts. And he repeats it, over and over and over again. It's even tougher to talk to him, and I have absolutely no clue about how to get him involved, as his primary interest is destroying things and beating the crap out of them. At least with Chloe, she's into the whole girly make-up, dress-up type thing.

This week, I've been feeling okay, even though my WBC is at its lowest, from what I was told. It's kinda a deceptive, dangerous state to be in. Cuz I feel alright, but I know that if I get the smallest injury, I have to be really careful. A couple days ago, my finger accidentally pushed lightly on the vein where they took blood from last week. I have this routine blood work done every 3-6 months, and it always heals right up. But when my finger touched the spot--a week after the test--it hurt! I could feel the bruising from something done a week ago. Then yesterday, as I was lighting some candles, my finger touched the hot metal on the lighter for less than a second, and what normally would have been a practically non-existent burn hurt like hell and swelled up a little. So I had to put Neosporin and a bandaid on it, even though I could barely see where it was burned.

It's difficult for my mind to understand that my body kinda sucks right now cuz I'm used to being so active and running around all over the place, not giving a rat's ass if I trip or fall or be clumsy and all that. Anyway, I should rest up because my next treatment is on Wednesday.

Happy Birthday, Chloe!

On this day four years ago, I was in labour at Cedars Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles. Eventually, I would get the blessed epidural, and hours later, during primetime television viewing hours, I would give a big heave-ho that would introduce Chloe into the world.

Last Sunday, we had Chloe's birthday party. The day started out looking like a piece of shit, but by afternoon, it was actually quite sunny. So we were able to grill up some meat and fish and let the kids run amok outside. Lots of Chloe's little friends showed up: Lily, Maia, Quintin and his little bro, Marcus, Saya, Jordy, William, and Joshua. And of course there was Mylo, who wasn't as psyched about the birthday girl's moment in the spotlight. But he will get his soon. . .


{what we always get: a fruit cake (sometimes a mango cake) from Anna's Cake House on Fraser}



{candles blown out, let's eat!}



{PRESENTS!!! of course, a girl needs help from her friends}



{Mylo's in the background, pushed out of the bubble of girl power, looking like, "OMG, what-EVER!!!!"


Happy Bday, Chloe Bean!

Co-in-kee-dink

Hm, I used to use that word--coinkeedink--a lot as a kid, but I never saw it in print before. Anyway, I like it when weird things happen. Like today, when I was walking down Davie Street before my appointment for a CT scan on my leg...For some odd reason, I had this thought: "I wonder if I'll run into Mike C.?" Then I was kinda drawn into the Book Warehouse moments later, where, as a matter of fact, I ran into Mike C. He asked me how I was doing, and I said something like, "I'm doing. . .whatever"--which aptly describes the whole cancer thing. So we had a nice chat, after which I was drawn to the back of the Book Warehouse, where I found two extremely discounted books: The Summer of Her Baldness: a cancer improvisation, by Catherine Lord, and A Safe Place: A Journal for Women with Breast Cancer, by Jennifer Pike. I bought them both right away! You would think that because I like making handmade books and that I am a big journaler that I wouldn't dig guided journal type of books, but I actually find them to be useful sometimes. Anyway, I'm really excited about these finds! And it was nice to walk around town, just looking at storefronts and everyone enjoying the last sunny days of summer (which we didn't have much of in Vancouver this year).

Then I came home. To my parents and kids (Dude is in LA, and I wish I had gone with him, taken the risk). My parents, of course, are concerned about me and came all the way from Pennsylvania last week to help out for a couple months. But what I don't really dig is being treated like a complete invalid. At the moment, I'm feeling completely fine, but my mom kinda won't let me do simple things like heat my own food in the microwave or wash a spoon. It's driving me a little nuts, but I'm trying to keep things in perspective. She wants me to rest, but I don't want to be bedridden! So I'm trying to let her know that the best help is taking the kids outside to play or to the park. It's hard to balance out having loved ones help while also trying to maintain a certain level of independence. And despite my attempts to communicate my wishes, Mom still pushes me back to my bed.

I. Have. A. Headache.

So, what to do? I haven't played the shakuhachi in a while. Maybe now's the time.

Mifflintown, Pennsylvania 17059

My hometown is small--really small--especially people-wise. Which means that if there's any gossip, it travels faster than the speed of light, across county lines, state lines, even across the country and across the U.S.-Canadian border to here. It also means that gossip is sometimes, usually, mostly, maybe, probably, kinda connected to someone I'm directly related to or someone that I might have been related to somewhere down the line a hundred or so years ago. I think more people live along my one block in Vancouver than in all of Mifflintown. I think there are more churches than schools, and that the church to people ratio is about 1:9. This post is for Mifflintown.

I gather that my name has been passed among churches because I've been getting a lot of cards from people's whose names I don't recognize, but I do recognize their surnames. I also got some cards from people from my high school class. All this is really awesome. It's funny when people write, "I know you aren't religious, but I'm praying for you anyway. . ." I totally appreciate that and am grateful because while it is true that I don't ascribe to any religion, I am a spiritual person and believe in the spirit of life and some sort of afterlife that exists for spirits, so I do feel the positive vibes that people are wonderful enough to give out generously, even if they don't know me at all!

As for my hair, mine is almost all gone. I still have little splotches here and there that annoy the fuck out of me, but I'll just let them be for now. The tugging and rubbing on my head is getting old, and I have better things to do. Today, I'm getting a CT scan on my leg where I have a stress fracture. I'm surprised that I'm getting this scan because I think they pretty much ruled that it's a stress fracture in my leg, but I guess they want to make triple-sure, which is a weird thing for Canadians, who don't believe in unnecessary, or excessive, testing (it costs money). But hey, if they wanna scan my leg, great!

I've been wanting to eat like crazy. I guess with this chemo, at first I want to puke my brains out, and now, the steroids are kicking in or something, cuz I'm never full. But I'm trying to keep the eating normal and not gain a crapload of weight. So far, so good.

On Monday, Dude and I went to a free fireside chat session at Inspire Health, which is an integrated healthcare organization for cancer patients, which just means that their doctors and staff help you find ways to cope with the side effects of cancer treatments and optimize health and wellbeing during these times. After the fee for their two-day seminar and membership fee, access to their doctors and programs are free, but they also have a naturopath and acupuncturist if you want to take advantage of that, for a fee. I feel super fortunate that we live in a place where such a thing exists!

So yeah, thanks for reading the blog, you in Mifflintown, Vancouver, Pittsburgh, Germany, California, Seattle, New York, Madison, China, Florida, and wherever the hell you are!

Rock on.

Wiggin' Out

Today, Chloe and I went shopping for wigs with some UBC Creative Writing peeps of mine--Jamella, Claire, Meghan, Pat, and Kellee. I was going to go sans kids, but I noticed that Chloe's been wanting to hang around Mama a lot more lately, so I didn't want her to feel left out. She had a blast (even though in the pictures, she looks like she thinks I'm a total freak)! Of course, she wanted me to go for the red, blue, green, and purple wigs. But she liked my choices in the end.


{green monster}



{bobbin'}



{one of the wigs I brought home--kinda scarlett o'hara-esque. picture taken by chloe.}



{the other final purchase...more of the everyday stylin' wig. pic also snapped by chloe bean.}



{me and mylo, pic by chloe. i also bought a hat with a skull on it...a skull cap, in other words.}


To be honest, I was kind of anti-wig when I found out I would be having chemo. But I really like the wigs. I think they kinda rock. My mom even wants to go buy some now! So I might make a second trip to the wig store. For some odd reason, I feel like putting "Red" on (as I like to call the curly red wig, though the tag says its name is "Jocelyn"...the other one doesn't have a name, but it is made out of real human hair, which makes it softer), and kick my heels up, and sing through the streets, "It's Raining Men." [I'm hoping Jamie won't read this, because he will definitely be here in two seconds to take me up on that.]


Okay, now back to tugging out my remaining hair. Up next--henna head!

Spa

At the moment, I'm kinda anti-computer. But I like showing pictures. Maybe that makes me a narcissistic bitch. Maybe not. But here's why I'm anti-computer: because you can't take the computer in the bathtub without the risk of electrocuting yourself. So until they make water-resistant laptops. . .

Here's where I spend a lot of my time nowadays:


{my home spa}




{. . .with new washcloths. . .}




{. . .and a glass of chardonnay, a pitcher of lemon water. . .}



[By the way, funny thing I discovered: lemons float, limes sink.]




{yesterday, my hair started falling out. Or rather, it started coming out easily when tugged on. I sat in the tub for an hour, massaging my head, rubbing vigorously, tugging with my forefingers and thumbs, pulling out little black clumps. Kinda like weeding, only taking much longer. Guess I have a lot of hair. Now my head just looks like a poorly clipped shrub.}

"First-World" Fight--An American in Canada

I have to admit: I'm having a hard time trying to figure out how to tie the story I want to tell at this very moment into my cancer. Maybe I should tell the story first, and then the connection will also come out of my ass. So last night, Dude was on the internet trying to find a way to gussy up one of his computers. He kinda became transfixed by it. This was because he had taken apart an old Mac G4 Powerbook by taking the screen off (it was already falling off as the hinges broke and the wires were just hanging there, exposed) and hooking it up to an actual monitor. So he was feeling proud and encouraged when he managed to get the jalopy started. Then he wanted to mess with the shiny computer we have--the one that is totally awesome accept for the fact that it is 1/32" too tall to fit neatly into our desk space. So he wanted to take it off the base somehow, and mount it on the wall. He didn't find any official word from Apple on this, but he found some other geek website that explained how to do it. I thought, There must be a reason why you're not supposed to....So I said to him, "Dear, any idiot can do anything if they try hard enough, but it doesn't mean it's the right thing to do." I was struck by the awesome aphorism that came flying out of my mouth, and wanted to set it in stone, in permanence, somewhere. Here's good enough for now.


Okay, so how does this connect to cancer? Hm, I still don't know, but I'm sure someone will think of a way. I just wanted to puff out my chest with my quotable, and if that makes me a word whore, so be it.

But let's talk about the cancer for the heck of it. I was telling my friend the other day that even though I bitch and moan about all that's going on, I feel pretty lucky because we live in a place where not only can I get some of the best cancer treatment in the world--and alternative treatments too--but I also don't have to mess with insurance companies and fight with them. I find Michael Moore kinda irritating, and I think he idealizes Canada a bit too much, but it is true that here, if you are not well and you need help, you can get it without trying to justify why you should have the right to be well! So all the stuff that I get to do--a lot of it is free! At the cancer agency, there are counseling services which include one-on-one counseling, seminars for families and caregivers, therapeutic touch sessions, relaxation seminars, cosmetic seminars for women, a Chinese-language sessions that my in-laws can go to, and other stuff--all free! Not only that, but there's a complementary therapy organization that offers accupuncture, naturopath services, and other things, that is specifically for cancer patients--not free, but I heard from many well worth the cost. So I am fortunate to be where I am with this illness.

Still, trying to find a way to justify putting that aphorism here though. Okay! I got it! I'm going to say that the chemo caused my brain to think up that brilliance, and that hopefully, the chemo will replace the tumour with awesome sayings and other fun word stuff! Yes!