Why I Haven't Called or Written

These past two weeks have been very difficult. Forgive me if I haven't written or returned your call. Sitting at the computer takes more muscles than I have right now. You might not think it, but talking on the phone takes a tremendous amount of energy. I am lacking in both muscles and energy right now.

My days are measured in increments between pain pills. The accomplishments have been few -- two trips to see the doctors, my first shower after surgery, washing my hair on my own, sleeping through the night.

I've had a few set backs in the past couple of days so the pain has been extreme. Friday night I took to bed and, since then, have ventured no further than the bathroom. My husband has been promising that every day can only get better. It's a good thing I am an optimist; I believe him.

It seems cancer is a major theme in our family's life.


My mother's father, my Uncle Dave, died of lung cancer almost nine years ago. My cousin, Cathy, one of Uncle Dave's daughters, is the chair of the Allen Park, Michigan Relay for Life event to benefit the American Cancer Society May 19-20, 2007.

Cathy has asked my sister, Roni, and me to be the poster children of this year's event. I am honoured.

Cancer runs up both sides of our family tree. On my mother's side, her brother, Dave, and sister, Rosemary, both died from lung cancer. Breast cancer seems to come from my father's side of the tree, including my father's sister, Pat, then Roni, now me.

During this battle with breast cancer, I am already grateful to the American Cancer Society for their on-line resources and support. If you would like to support Cathy's Relay efforts, I'd be grateful, too. After all, I'm one of the poster children for cancer this year.

Smelling the Spring Flowers

Today is day 5 post-double-mastectomy-breast-cancer surgery. It is difficult to remind myself that life is good. This is a horrible disease, a painful antidote, a life-changing event over which I have very, very little control. Not easy to accept for a self-admitted control freak.

I have been so tempted to name this post "Tits and Pussy." I figured it would likely generate a lot of readers, many of whom would have been so disappointed by the content. The tits part, I think, is self-explanatory. For almost two months now my breasts have been the centre of my universe. For five days now, the centre of my entire being. The pussy part might be a little surprising to some. It seems that our cat, Chia, cannot forget that I have saved her life twice in the past couple months. Since I came home from surgery last Wednesday, she has not left my side. If I dare leave my bed without an attendant, she follows me, tattling at the top of her lungs to anyone who'll listen. In telling a story to my mother yesterday, I pretended to cry. The poor cat started to panic. It took hours of petting her with my one good hand to convince her that I was not in any danger. Most people have a guardian angel - I have a guardian cat!

Believe it or not, it has been wonderful having her here for comfort and love. Most of the burden of caring for me has been on the strong shoulders of my wonderful husband, Ljuban. After all, he's been my primary care-giver, drain-emptier, pee-assister, hair-washer, tea-maker, up-and-down-the-stairs-runner, with much-appreciated assistance from my Mom and daughter, Shannon. But it's been the cat who's been there to make sure that I've adjusted my pillow properly, have my left arm elevated, am covered and warm even though the windows have been open on these beautiful summer-like spring days. She's the only one who knows if I've been crying, hurting, grimacing, shifting position by degrees.

She's been my loyal companion through countless episodes of The Munsters. Yes, The Munsters has (have?) been my escape through this recovery. My brother, Joe, lent us the box set some time ago where it sat largely ignored on the DVD pile. What better way to not think than to immerse yourself in the antics of America's first ghoulishly funny family? Once I am well, I probably won't watch another episode again as long as I live (I hope), and I'm sure I shall quickly forget them all, but these past few days and very long nights, they are my refuge. It takes far less commitment than watching TV. If I fall asleep I can quickly rewind to my last conscious memory. It generates only a few belly laughs, a few more chuckles and is incredibly well-written, well-acted and wholesomely entertaining. I have enjoyed watching the evolution of the writing and production teams, the characters, costumes, budgets over time. Since there are credit courses in university on shows like Seinfeld (I don't get it) and The Simpsons (ditto), there should certainly be critical analysis courses on The Cultural Evolution of The Munsters.

I'm sorry if you haven't heard from me. I have written very few emails since it takes a lot of energy to sit up and type at my computer. My left arm is very numb, and seemingly feeling numb-er the more the medication wears off. It is even more difficult to find the energy to talk on the phone.

I have a lot of thoughts although very few are coherent. Far fewer are interesting at this time to anyone other than me.

I have been blessed with an abundance of spring flowers, thank you dear Friends! Our bedroom is quite colourful and lively, so much so, that we have started spreading the bouquets and arrangements throughout the house.

Today I ventured out for a "walk" -- it was my first time downstairs and a few steps beyond our front porch -- to enjoy the spring flowers now blooming in our gardens.

Instead of focusing on my pain, misery, feelings of despair, today's post is entitled "Smelling the Spring Flowers" because it is positive, optimistic and hopeful. And probably more family-appropriate than "Tits and Pussy."

Chia Update April 3, 2007

Chia came home from the 'hospital' on Saturday, March 31 after 11 days at the veterinarian's. She was not yet out of the woods, but they had weaned her off the intravenous and thought she could probably best finish recuperating at home. I wanted to wait a few days to make sure she was improving before publishing an update.

The first few hours she was home, she found deep, dark places in the house in which to hide, as I've noticed sick cats do. After about five or six hours, she started venturing out of her hiding spots and was starving for affection. Her fur was coming out in handfuls - I think from both the trauma of being sick and being away from home for so long.

She has hardly left my lap. Yesterday morning she had to visit the vet's office again. The goal was to take blood to ensure that her kidney levels are improving. While she's become quite accustomed to the vet, she was not fully cooperative so they weren't able to get a conclusive test. The vet told us to make sure that she's eating the new, low protein food and drinking plenty of water.

Chia's eyes look brighter and her face looks happier. I tried to get her to pose for an updated photo, and this was the shot we got. She's not fully back to her old self, but we are both quite hopeful.

Thank you to everyone who's written or called with concern about our little kitty.

Now to collect the $2,100.00 in vet bills that we've paid to save her life!