A New Blog is Born



You've seen these beautiful people before; this is part of my family in BC - from left to right: my sister-in-law Delima, my niece Sharon, my brother Frank, and my niece Sheryl. Well, lovely Sharon has just started a new blog, so drop by and welcome her to Blogland.

Sharon has a quick wit and a fluent writing style; I'm sure it won't take long for you to fall in love with her.

Enjoy!

Kamikaze Robin is Back



Last year we had this crazy robin that kept attacking its reflection in the window of our spare bedroom. I guess Mr. Macho must have been protecting his mate and/or a nearby nest from what he thought was another male robin. He'd fly from the fence dividing our property from our neighbours' and throw himself into the glass, then flit back to the fence and repeat the process over and over and over. The only way to stop him from bashin his beak and possibly breakin his neck, was to open the window.

He's back, exhibiting the same bizarre behaviour.

Every three seconds, for HOURS, there's this sickening THUNK, and sometimes he clings to the lower sill, glaring angrily at his own image. Our cats are fascinated; they stare intently, tails twitching, and occasionally glance over their shoulders at me as if to say, "What a dumb butt, eh?" (Well, Milo and Duffy say eh, because they're Canadian cats; Monkey, the American, says huh.)

What that bird needs is a football helmet with a little beak guard.

Not Too Big for My Britches Any More



About the only good thing to come out of having cancer is that I have lost a lot of weight, which I badly needed to do. I know, I know: I should have gone about it in a much healthier way, long ago, but I didn't, so that's water under the bridge. The point is, that, although I'm still no skinny Minnie, I've shrunk quite a bit. This means I've had to give away a lot of clothes, and buy some new ones.

I used to have a great wardrobe of really cute golf outfits, which I hung onto for a long time. Finally, thinkin who am I kiddin, I'll never fit into those again, I finally boxed them up and gave them to charity.

Figures.

Most of my shorts are so baggy in the butt that they make me look like I'm wearin a fully loaded diaper. So today I drove to Wal-Mart in search of three new pair: navy blue, black and denim. I found black cotton pull-ons and a really nice pair of stretch denims. Two sizes difference between them - how arbitrary are clothing sizes, anyway? (Of course, I prefer to believe that the smaller number is the more accurate one ha ha.) I also picked up a couple of t-shirts (beige with a soft flower pattern, and white) that have pretty crocheted details around the neck and sleeves. Then I checked Sears at the mall (nuthin) and Cotton Ginny, where I got a much more expensive pair of navy blue shorts and a white t-shirt with a pink ribbon embroidered on the left collarbone area. I like the idea that 10% of the proceeds from the shirt go to breast cancer research.

There's loose skin on my thighs that perturbs me; maybe if I get Curtis to put some air in my bicycle tires I can firm that up a bit.

I once got rid of a couple of hundred pounds of useless flesh....but it cost me a lot in divorce attorney fees.

Barrr-rrrrum-bum.

On the Trial Drug Again



Today I resumed taking the Sutent - 37.5 mg instead of 50. I took a Benedryl along with it, to try to avoid allergic reaction. I hope the trial drug works without makin me too miserable, because the tumor on my parotid has gotten bigger again (hopefully because of the bleeding).

My face is still swollen, but not as much as it has been. I had a lunch of Chef Boyardee ravioli, one of my favourite comfort foods. Thought I would enjoy it while my taste buds were functioning relatively well.

Curtis' funky new lawn mower is paid for, thanks to refund cheques from Autopac and the Government of Canada, the latter of which did a reassessment that benefitted me. Woo hoo.

Relief



Okay, so I still have a swollen face (although it has gone down quite a bit)...BUT....I got the break I so desperately longed for.

The ct-scan showed no blood clot. There is bleeding into the tumor, which, as I said before, is a good thing, as unpleasant as it feels and looks. They also did a complete scan of my brain, and there's still no sign of any metastasis there, which is great news. I'll just have to endure the discomfort and ugliness until the bleeding subsides and the fluid is resorbed into my tissues.

It has been a long and harrowing day, especially since they called me back to ct for a second scan - that really unnerved me. On my way home I filled a prescription for a light dosage of morphine that Dr. C gave me to manage my abdominal pain; Thursday I go in to get my next supply of Sutent, at a reduced dosage.

I'm very tired, but grateful for the good news. Tonight I'll watch American Idol (love that Andrea Bocelli!) and then it'll be lights out shortly, I'm sure.

Thanks, everyone, for all your kind words, advice, and positive vibes.

p.s. And yes, Noran, I sleep in an elevated hospital bed to prevent acid reflux, so I'm thinking that has to keep my swelling from bein even worse.

Update

I see a lot of you are checkin in on my blog, so I'll tell you what I can, so far:

Curtis took me to the clinic this morning, and I had my EKG's and bloodwork done. Pat (the nurse) had called me last night to tell me that Dr C wanted to start me back on the Sutent today, if he thought it was safe to do so; but he took one look at my swollen kisser and put on the brakes. He wants to find out for sure what's goin on in there, and he fears there may be a blood clot causing the problems, so he personally went down to the ct department and asked them to squeeze me in. They told me to come back at 2 pm.

Curtis drove me back home and I told him to go on to work; I can drive myself, but now I admit I'm scared of what the scan might show. Dr C wants to be paged right after the test with a verbal report, so that he knows whether or not I need to be treated with blood thinners.

I will post again when I get home from this afternoon's consultation.

I Want My Face Back



The swelling is not getting better; in fact, yesterday it was at its worst ever until around 5:30 pm, when it simmered down and I could see out of my left eye again. I have never thought of myself as a particularly vain woman, but I guess my face was more important to me than I realized.

It had a lot of flaws, but it was a pleasant face that had stood the test of time relatively well. It was familiar; what looks back at me now from the mirror is strange and bulgy and ugly.

I have to be at the hospital before 9 am tomorrow for a series of EKG's, and then at the adjoining CancerCare clinic for bloodwork (part of the drug trial protocol). Then I will wait until Dr C has a chance to squeeze me into his busy day for a follow-up consultation.

I don't want my family to see me like this. Throughout the 17 months since I was rediagnosed, they have been reassured by the fact that I "looked so good." If they see me the way I look now, it will frighten and discourage them.

Please, God, if You give me my old mug back, I won't ever again gripe about large pores, moles, or crow's feet. I promise.

Determination and Optimism



Sometimes, when you are confronted by a difficult obstacle, you somehow are given the strength to overcome. Today, despite my pain, discomfort, and fear, I was handed hope...

Upon learning about my recent problems, my oncologist asked me to come right down to the CancerCare clinic to see him. Curtis came home early from work to drive me and be with me in case there was frightening news. After many questions and a close examination, Dr C's theory is that the swelling in my face is due to one (or more) of the tumors bleeding out. I had wondered if this was the case, having read everything I can get my hands on about the possible side effects of Sutent. This, Dr C said, could actually be a very good thing.

Renal cancer tumors are very vascular; in fact, they manufacture their own blood supply by growing vessels and veins with which to feed themselves. The way Sutent works is that it starves the tumors, cutting off their blood supply. Sometimes this causes those vessels to hemmorhage or break down, destroying them and then preventing the production of new ones.

So, if Dr C's supposition is correct, the fluid that is causing my face to swell is blood draining from the tumor(s), blood that will eventually resorb into my tissues on its own. And it means that the drug is doing what it has been designed to do.

Now I can bear the pain, the burning, the stiffness, even the disfigurement. It should all be only short-term, anyway.

Thank God for Sutent. Thank God for Dr C and Pat Gray, my drug trial nurse. Thank God for Curtis, who is always by my side supporting me. And thank God for the concern and prayers of my friends and loved ones.

I can do this.

I'm a Blowfish



Swelling is worse than ever. My skin is tight and stretched, and I can hardly open my jaw to shovel food into my mouth (not that I'm very hungry - I had a third of a bowl of cereal and was full). I updated my nurse Pat today, and am awaiting a call from my oncologist. Pat mentioned the possible need for more radiation. I don't want that; it makes me miserable.

I'm scared and I need some more hope.

A Trying Time



Just when things seem to be goin along well, the Monster decides to rear its ugly head....

I had a miserable night, fighting back nausea to which I finally was forced to succumb. As I threw up into the toilet, blood began to pour into the bowl. It was streaming from my nose; I've never had a nosebleed like that in my life. When I awoke this morning, I could hardly open my left eye, and Curtis said, your eye doesn't look right, looks like you have a shiner. Although I sometimes get some swelling under the left eye (which I have assumed was fluid build-up related to the tumor in my temple), this is the most severe it has ever been. The swelling is above and below my eye, and extends all the way down my cheek and jaw. I'm so puffy that when I look into the mirror, a bloated stranger gazes back.

Exhausted and feeling strange, I dozed off and on until noon, then left a voice message for my oncologist's nurse, describing my symptoms. Now I'm gonna hit the showers in the hopes that some sweet-smelling suds will prove to be a soothing balm for my ravaged body.

This aint fun.

Just a Little Post



Answers to a few questions I've recently been asked:

1. The giant chocolate bunny I got for Easter is hollow, but its sides are very thick. It's still in pretty good shape except it's missing half an ear *burp*.

2. The above-mentioned bunny is made by Morden's chocolate, a local manufacturer.

3. I had to stop taking the Sutent six days ago, because the pain and discomfort in my tongue/mouth were excrutiating. I will resume the drug on May 9, at a reduced dosage. My tongue is slowwwwwwwwwly healing.

4. The snow is all gone here except for a few piles in parking lots that are more dirt than snow.

5. Flooding south and west of Winnipeg is severe - so much so, that most farmlands are completely under water. Homes are, for the most part, protected by dikes or mounds that were constructed to protect them after rebuilding from the 1997 Flood of the Century. Our city is protected, thankfully, by our floodway system, a giant ditch that diverts overflow from the Red and Assiniboine Rivers around us.

6. My vote for American Idol is and has been from the beginning, Chris Daughtry.

Meet My New Car Pool Bunny, erm, Buddy



As many of you know, I gave up chocolate for Lent, which of course, officially ended today on Easter Sunday. I had told Curtis that I wanted a chocolate bunny big enough to put in my car with a seatbelt so that I could drive in the car pool lane. AND I GOT 'IM!

You can read more details, and see more lovely (gag) photos of me with bed hair and a jacket over my nightgown, at Curtis' blog.

I gotta go now; I have some serious ear-chompin to do.

Alleluia

All I Needed to Know About Life I Learned From the Easter Bunny



Don't put all of your eggs in one basket.

Walk softly and carry a big carrot.

Everyone needs a friend who is all ears.

There's no such thing as too much candy.

All work and no play can make you a basket case.

A cute little tail attracts a lot of attention.

Everyone is entitled to a bad hare day.

Let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits.

Some body parts should be floppy.

Keep your paws off other people's jellybeans.

Good things come in small sugarcoated packages.

The grass is always greener in someone else's basket.

An Easter bonnet can tame even the wildest hare.

To show your true colors you have to come out of your shell.

The best things in life are still sweet and gooey.

Illegal Alien



We have a Free Trade Agreement with the US, yet this past year or so there has been a lot of noise about the Powers-That-Be possibly requiring a passport for passage between us and our American neighbours. Even though passports are not yet officially required, there is definitely a movement in that direction. Right now, it's easier for Curtis, an American citizen, to re-enter Canada with his passport than it is for me. MY OWN COUNTRY.

It has never been easy. Aside from the time my nuclear bone scan set off the scanners crossing into the US, I've never personally had a problem LEAVING Canada; it's returning that's a pain. Not that our border patrol has any of the state-of-the-art security equipment that the Murricans have; heck, they don't even carry guns. Water pistols, maybe. But they LOVE to collect duty; it's their raison d'etre. Maybe the money goes into their coffee fund, I don't know, but they are extremely zealous about it. When Curtis moved up here from West Virginia, he drove a big U-Haul and towed a van behind it on a trailer, and the customs guys didn't so much as stick their noses outside to check anything out. He could have had an entire artillery of Uzi's in the back. All they wanted to know was how much booze was he transporting, so that they could collect their pound of flesh.

Curtis and I always exceed the amount we are allowed to bring into Canada, and if we go down for just the day, then any and all purchases must be declared. We always declare and pay the duty. It's not worth the stress of tryin to sneak stuff across just to save a few bucks. And if you get caught, you can be in a lot of trouble. Despite our honesty, I always feel guilty. The customs officers treat you as if you are criminals tryin to bring ten thousand dollars worth of Payless shoes into the country for resale.

The thing that is most striking about Canadian Customs is their rudeness. It's as if they are deliberately trying to provoke you, so that they have an excuse to give you an even harder time. I once got YELLED at to remove my sunglasses; my glasses have Vari-Gray lenses, which means they automatically darken with sunlight. They are prescription and I REQUIRE them to drive; in fact, to prevent myself from walkin into telephone poles.

You have absolutely no civil rights at a border crossing; you can be harrassed and strip-searched for no cause, and there's not a darned thing you can do about it. Some of the Customs people let this go to their heads, and they get a little power-crazed, in a Hitlerian kind of way. That can really put a damper on the conclusion of a fun weekend of cross-border shopping and debauchery.

It used to be that your Canadian birth certificate and your drivers license with photo were enough to convince Customs that you were a bona fide Canadian. But I've heard reports from friends of agents handling their documents as though they were fresh turds, and scolding them for not having passports.

So, I'm givin in. I'm applying for a passport. Not because I plan to go on a fabulous European vacation, but because we enjoy driving 2 1/2 hours and staying in a hotel in Smalltown, North Dakota. First I have to apply for a birth certificate, because they won't accept a photocopy. Twenty-five bucks. Then I have to fill in more forms, pay for passport photos at Wal-Mart, and then remit another 87 smackers for the passport itself.

It's extortion, I tell ya.

Everything is Beautiful



I've had a few queries as to how I'm doing, and the answer is, I'm doing very well, thank you. My tongue is sore, and continues to limit severely what I eat, my sinuses are a bit wonky, and the skin on my face is yellowing; but all that pales in comparison to the fact that there is undeniable tumor shrinkage happening. Not only is the lump on my parotid gland (jaw) no longer visible, but the one on my temple is flattening out, too.

I couldn't be more grateful, and I'm hoping that a similar response to the trial drug I'm on, is occurring in other parts of my body.

The weather has been really lovely, and except for a few sheltered areas, the snow is all but gone. It will take a while for the frost to leave the ground - probably until the end of the month, when we have arranged to have a guy come power rake and aerate our lawn. Once the street cleaners have done their job and the heaps of winter gravel and gunk have been eradicated, I'll wash the grime off of the windows for a nice clear view of our pretty blue skies.

I just completed a special little project that I will be sending out in the next day or two, so watch your mailbox, Sally.

Curtis put a roast into the crock pot this morning, so the aromas in the house will be wonderful all day today.

AND SUNDAY I GET TO HAVE CHOCOLATE.

Life doesn't get any better than this.

And Now, a Word From Your Blogger



Commercials are mostly annoying, for obvious reasons: First of all, they interrupt the program you are watching, which is no big deal if it's something like "As the World Turns," because the plot moves along at a snail's pace anyway - I mean, you could miss an entire season and things wouldn't be much different. However, when I'm grippin the edge of my chair during a nail-biting episode of 24, the last thing I want is to suddenly watch some twit dancin around the house with a Swiffer. But I digress.

I hate when there is a football playoff or something and the network shows the same commercial over and over and over until you're ready to puke every time it starts up again. Sometimes they even air the same commercial twice in a row, which is enough to make me snatch myself bald (not a pretty sight, as I don't have one of those "pretty" head shapes - trust me, it's all lumpy and bumpy and big and sort of square and everything). But I'm digressing again.

I thought there was supposed to be some sort of regulation set by the Commerical Gods against the volume gettin louder during an advertisement, yet if I happen to be catching a nice snooze during the slow parts of Dr. Phil, it's always some shriek or shrill sound effect during a commercial that disturbs my rest. There used to be this el cheapo commercial run out of Armpit, Arkansas or someplace that starred a horrible little woman called the Weivoda Carpet Girl, who had the most head-splitting, nasally voice you ever heard. I swear, you could hear that chick if you were upstairs from your TV blending yourself a smoothie. I don't know how much carpeting she sold, but years later, I still remember her, so I guess she was effective in a don't-come-any-closer-or-I'll-shoot kind of way. I'm really not straying off topic; just watch....

Some commercials are just plain icky. Feminine hygiene and jock itch products come to mind here. And what's with the latest ones that feature the loud passing of gas? People of the male persuasion seem to find those endlessly funny; I think they're gross.

I do enjoy some commercials. That one where a big dog totally sucks face with a guy waiting for his date at her apartment almost made me wet myself the first time I saw it. And the one that's runnin now in which a man eating a hot and spicy sandwich starts shootin flames out of his mouth is pretty funny.

Curtis and I even once went to the Art Gallery to see a showing of award-winning commercials. North American ads are very tame compared to what gets aired in Europe and Japan.

There's a fairly recent phenomenon that blows my mind, and shows you the power of advertising: The Staples "easy button" has now become a product that is selling very well. Interesting, how nowadays some advertising props become a part of the real marketplace themselves.

I wonder what your favourite or least favourite commercials are?

A Matter of Taste



I'm beginning to experience a few side effects, one of which is some taste disturbance. Some foods just don't taste right, and my tongue feels like I burned it on hot tea. Puttin toothpaste in my mouth is like swishing with liquid fire. I'm also having light nosebleeds.

But....hey....get a load of this: At first I thought it was wishful thinking; after all, I've been on the Sutent for only 11 days....but now I am certain: the tumor on my parotid gland has shrunk significantly!

I believe in miracles.

Spoiled Rotten



That's what I am. When I have a rough day, Curtis will go to great lengths to make me feel better. Yesterday, he brought "Rockin Rabbit" home to cheer me up. It sings lyrics about Easter candy to the tune of "Rockin Robin," and the egg in its lap opens up to reveal its background singer, a chick that sings all the "tweedlee-dee's." Really cute.

(I tried to include the link that would allow you to see and hear the rabbit in action, but it wouldn't work. Just type "Hallmark Rockin Rabbit" in your browser, click on the first link that comes up, and then click on "See him sing.")

Still no chocolate for this puppy, as I gave it up for Lent. I told Curtis that, come Easter, I want a chocolate bunny so big I can strap it into my car beside me with a seatbelt and drive in the car pool lane.

A Little Green Around the Gills



Have a case of the queasies today; since this is day 9 on the Sutent, it could be side effects beginning to manifest themselves. Can't eat and am extremely fatigued.

Thanks for your sage advice, Herman; I am doing my best to focus on my own health. It's difficult, when you've been a take-charge kind of person all your life, to back away and leave others to do things in your stead.

I had earnest plans to grocery shop today and make a nice dinner for Curtis, but I just can't muster up the energy, much less face the food preparation. Just the idea of food makes me want to pull a Linda Blair....

Prepare to be Bored



After visiting my mom on Saturday, I felt utterly drained. All I did was snooze, doze, drowze, nap, drool and basically remain horizontal for the rest of the day and throughout the night. Her negativity, anger and self-pity had sapped me of all my energy.

The nursing home she is in is beautiful: immaculately clean, beautifully decorated and furnished, bright, spacious and chock full of facilities: its own dental clinic and hairdressing salon, bank, arts and crafts area and occupational therapy room. The food is excellent and the staff are friendly and kind. We could not have wished for better for our mom. I am very comfortable with the knowledge that she is being well cared for.

When my lack of energy continued through Sunday, I began to wonder if the new drug that I'm on is starting to show some side effects, fatigue being one of the most common. But today I feel a little perkier, so who knows.

Some hard rain, then bright sunshine and high winds, are causing the snow to rapidly melt here. Our driveway is clear to the cement, but our front yard (a north exposure) still has quite a lot of snow on it. It looks like our mild winter will be followed by an early spring - hooray!

I've been working on a very pretty cross-stitch for a *certain someone* (I'm not telling; you can't make me), but the darn kit didn't have enough of three colours of thread. I hate when that happens. I've emailed the manufacturer and asked them to send me more; hope they send it soon.

Not a very interesting post, but that's the way things are right now in my life. Truthfully, I don't mind the calm.