Sun, Sand and Sea

"O yellow eye,
let me be sick with your heat,
let me be feverish and frowning."
-Anne Sexton

I was watching Dr. Oz yesterday when he was speaking of the four instinctive cravings that human beings have - food, water, sex and sleep. He suggested that often people try to sate their desire for water, sex or sleep by eating. I can understand that. When struggling while dieting I always try to drink before I give into a sweet craving just to be sure I'm not confusing hunger with thirst. I'm very aware that I easily confuse hunger with fatigue. There is one big craving that I have though that isn't on Dr. Oz's list and lately I've been fighting with the urge to eat whole tins of chocolate coated biscuits to try to fill the void. I'm craving the feel of sun on my skin.

It is an odd thing in the mildest winter I can ever recall, that I'm having so much difficulty muddling through these February days. Clearly the problem isn't with snow or frigid temperatures as we really haven't had much of either. Yet I'm desperate for the heat on my shoulders, the feeling of sand under my feet and the sound of waves crashing against the beach. So on February 28, Merv and I will head off for a week in Aruba.

It will be a little odd having a sun and sea vacation without Jacob. We've had one as a family every March since Jacob was six years old. We've been to Mexico, Cuba, The Dominican Republic and Venezuela multiple times. Last March we spent two weeks in Hawaii. I've taken Jacob to Nassau and Merv and I honeymooned in St. Kitts and Nevis. We've also been to Grand Cayman and Jamaica. But neither of us have ever been to Aruba.

I hear there isn't much to do or see in Aruba. It is a small island, only 70 square kilometers of total space. I could walk from one end of Aruba and back to the other and still only have walked two thirds as far as I will walk in September on the Weekend to End Women's Cancers. Amazing. But we're not going there for the sightseeing. We're going for the beach and I hear it is one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. Works for me.

Up in the Air on Cloud Nine

"God knows I do everything I can to make you stand on your own two feet. Just be yourself. You don't seem to realize how insulting it is to me that you can't get yourself together." - Martin (from Caryl Churchill's "Cloud Nine")

As part of our subscription service, though not a part of the regular season, Mirvish Productions provided us with two tickets to "Cloud Nine" at the Panasonic theatre on Friday night. It looked like an interesting and promising night of entertainment. The play is set in two acts, the first act in 1879 in Colonial Africa; the second act in 1979 in Margaret Thatcher's England. The characters remain the same from act to act and though one hundred years have passed, the characters are only twenty five years older. It is quite sexually explicit, exploring several different tastes. Men play women and women play men. Adults play children. Blacks play whites and whites play blacks. The first act was quite entertaining. But Act II left me bewildered. At times the acting was flat and even at the best of times, I found myself working far too hard to understand what was going on. Merv didn't get it either so I know it wasn't just me.

On Saturday we headed off to the cinema to see George Clooney's most recent movie, "Up in the Air". The movie is an interesting hybrid of comedy and drama. I can relate to George's role as the "terminator". I've been there too many times. I can even relate to flying in to do the deed and then flying out again a few hours later. It reminds me of a downsizing I did once in Vancouver - about a dozen people in two hours. I flew into Vancouver on flight leaving Toronto in the early morning hours and flew back to Toronto the same afternoon. Twelve hours of flight time left me with just a couple of hours in the Vancouver Bank of America office.

While there are some very funny moments in the film, it also provides a view of the dark side - the pain and angst for both the terminator and the terminated. But more than being about employment loss, the film is about relationships and the normal human need for connection. As the film is only showing in two suburban theatres, I would guess that it will soon be out of theatres all together and released on DVD. If you get a chance to see it, it is definitely worth the price of admission.

Postal Service

“I get mail; therefore I am.” - Scott Adams

When Jacob first went away to school, he told me that one of the things he missed most about home was getting mail. I wasn't aware he got much mail at home. After all, it seems to me that most of my mail consists of junk, bills, bank statements and a couple of magazines. But in Jacob's case, even getting junk mail makes him feel less lonely. So I set out to make sure he gets mail. Cathy sent him a subscription to Maclean's. That ensures there will be something in his mailbox at least once a week. I send care packages. It's not always easy to come up with something to send. Often I buy gift cards for restaurant chains, movie theatres or department stores. He likes those. I've sent him a t-shirt, a scarf and a pair of Olympic mittens. His Aunt Nan sends him treats.

One of the things that surprised me is that Jacob is not the only member of his gang of friends who identified getting mail as one of the things they really miss about being at home. So I've tried hard to fill some of the gaps for them. Jonathan is the furthest from home so I pay particular attention to keeping a regular flow to his mailbox. Generally, if I send something to Jacob, I send something to Jonathan. His three friends at Waterloo have one another, so their care packages are less frequent. But today I sent them each a pair of Olympic mittens too. Jacob's friends Sara and Lindsay are both in Ottawa, albeit at different universities. I've sent things for them to share, like a movie pass for two, and a package with two scarves in different colours so they could choose between themselves. Most of the time, I don't hear from the kids when they get their packages. I just check through the post office on-line tracking system to make sure they were delivered and I leave it at that. Jacob usually tells me when he has received something, if he thinks of it. I don't hear directly from Jonathan or the Waterloo boys or Lindsay but it doesn't really matter. It makes me happy to send things and I assume it makes them happy to receive things. I always hear from Sara who sends me wonderful, long, newsie notes whether or not she has received a package. I send Sara a fair bit of mail as I know she more than anyone, loves to get it. And frankly, it's easy to find things to send to a teenage girl - I can always find a bauble for her hair or a t-shirt in a pretty colour or even a small throw to keep away the chill in her dorm room.

Before the school year started, I had never really mailed very many packages. I find it all quite interesting. The cost of mailing packages has a lot to do with one's choice of post office. It costs a lot less to mail a package from the post office in the Shopper's Drug Mart in Bayview Village than it does to mail one from the post office at the Shopper's Drug Mart in Fairview Mall. While the weight is the weight, the price of the package is also influenced by the dimensions of the package including the depth. The ladies at Bayview Village invariably calculate the depth of the package as far slimmer than do the ladies at Fairview Mall. I also think it is interesting that cost is determined by the distance the package travels in Canada (though that is not the case if you are mailing a letter or an item outside the country). Mailing a pair of mittens to Jonathan in Halifax, cost me more than the mittens did. For less than the price of mailing one pair by snail mail to Halifax, I mailed three pairs to Waterloo by express service. I'm getting to be an expert at packaging things in the most cost effective way. And frankly, I'm impressed with how efficient the postal service has been.

I like sending things to the kids. I miss them all so much. I want them to know that even though they are far away, they are always on the radar screen of their other mother.

Groundhogs and Gynecologists

"The groundhog is like most other prophets; it delivers its prediction and then disappears." ~Bill Vaughn

I've never understood the concept of Groundhog Day. Today Wiarton Willy saw his shadow which resulted in a prediction of six more weeks of winter. This is Canada and it's February 2. Even if Willy didn't see his shadow, we will have at least six more weeks of winter. I don't get it. Predicting we are going to have six more weeks of winter is like predicting the month after March will be April. A strange ritual indeed.

Happy Birthday to my two friends, Nancy and Fran who both celebrate Groundhog Day birthdays. I don't know if either of them saw their shadows when they emerged on the days of their birth.

Today my sister Nancy and I accompanied my mom to her quarterly gynecology appointment. It is getting harder each time we have to take her. It's extremely difficult to maneuver her into the car to make the drive downtown and we are no longer able to walk her from the car to the clinic building so we have to call for a porter to bring a wheelchair to the car. There is no place to legally park near the building on University Avenue so I pulled into a spot normally reserved for the hot dog vendor, put my flashers on and waited with one eye ahead of me and one eye in the rear view mirror watching for a parking cop. After fifteen minutes of waiting, the hot dog vendor pulled up behind me and proceeded to have a meltdown because I was in his spot. I had no place to go so I ended up driving in circles through the incredibly busy streets and then having to double park on University Avenue when the porter finally showed up after 25 minutes. Drivers were honking and upset. Nancy took her in while I looked for a place to park and then we repeated the process in reverse - I once again double parked while trying to load her back into the car while drivers behind me honked and flipped me the bird. Mom was so exhausted from the ordeal that she was asleep in the car by the time I had driven a block. My nerves were frayed as were Nan's. We brought Mom back to the nursing home and left her to have a little lunch and a long nap while we went and got a bite. Her next appointment is on May 5 - Cinco de Mayo. While I decompressed after this appointment with Chinese dumplings and tea, you can be sure next time I'll be decompressing over a margarita.

A Sigh of Relief

“A guy is walking along the edge of the Grand Canyon and he falls off. He's hurtling down hundreds of feet to certain death and he looks up and grabs this twig, and it breaks his fall. He heaves a sigh of relief, and then, all of a sudden, he sees the roots coming loose. He looks up to the sky and says, "God, why me? I'm a good person. I've taken care of my family. I've paid all my taxes, I've worked all my life. Why me?" And this thunderous voice says, "Son, there's just something about you that I don't like."” - Bill Clinton

It is Monday afternoon as I write this blog. I've been home from Princess Margaret Hospital for less than an hour. I've been cycling through profound relief, peace and a level of joy almost bordering on giddiness. A week ago last Friday, I did the routine testing that is required of me as a breast cancer survivor. As usual, my oncology appointment was scheduled for two weeks after the tests. By the time a couple of days, post test, have passed, and I've heard nothing from the hospital, I feel fairly assured that my routine tests will result in an equally routine oncology appointment. Last Tuesday I came home from work after 6:00 P.M.to a message from PMH. I needed to go back for further testing. Tuesday was a long night. I called the hospital Wednesday morning and was told I had been scheduled for follow-up tests today at 1:30. It wasn't clear what the tests would be or what the concern was. I didn't even know which breast.

Like many other cancer survivors, I often find myself faced with the challenge of "canceritis". That is the disease that sends me to the dark place with each new ache and pain. When I herniated my disc while on vacation in the Dominican Republic in 2006, I spent a week in a hotel room, flat on my back watching the only English TV station available - CNN. It happened to be the same week that the U.S. politician, John Edward's wife found out that her own breast cancer had metastasized to her bones. She made that discovery when investigating some pain in her ribs. I didn't know why my back hurt so much but my canceritis clicked into high gear. It was a very scary week.

This past week has been equally scary. I told my husband what was happening, my sister Nancy and a couple of friends. I didn't tell Cathy or Jacob or most of the other people in my life. I tried hard not to scare them or cause them angst. On Saturday I spent the day at Willow at the annual strategic planning meeting of the board. I sat through the day listening to strategies on how we were going to support people through the whole cycle of breast cancer, from hereditary pre-disposition to metastatic cancers resulting in death. My colleagues at the table had no idea what I was dealing with on a personal level. At times that day I found myself struggling to breathe.

I made my way to PMH at about 1:00 this afternoon. I know the drill. I undressed, washed the deodorant off from under my arms, gowned and waited. They didn't make me wait long. The mammogram was painful followed by a lengthy, and thorough ultra-sound. The technician was kind and gentle. The radiologist took great pains to be thorough, respectful and informative. They gave me lots of information, tried to quell my fears and apologized that I was going into the process with a lack of information. The clerk who called me was supposed to advise me of their preliminary findings and exactly what was scheduled for today. They were trying to be cautious. They thought they were probably seeing a benign lymph node. They've seen it before but it looks more pronounced this time. They expect it was probably the same but their technology is better. They needed to look at it again, do more mammography and confirm it with an ultra-sound. And so the mammography was done. The ultra-sound was completed. And then they knew for sure. A benign node that's always been there is still there, still unchanged and of no consequence at all. And Friday's oncology appointment is destined like the others that preceded it since the traumatic ones in 2005, to be routine and uneventful. Thank God.

Potpourri

"If you only do what you know you can do, you never do very much." - Tom Krause

My days of solitude last week flew by quickly. My week was filled with work and I didn't get a chance to do all that I had planned to do in the days I was alone. Closet cleaning can wait a little longer. When not working, I enjoyed a couple of nights planning and creating new pieces from the lampwork beads I ordered from B.C. a few weeks ago. I absolutely love them and I had a lot of fun handling them and arranging them in various configurations.

The low point of my week came as for the rest of the world, with the news of the devastating earthquake in Haiti. Like everyone, I feel helpless. I've watched very little of the news and read only a little bit in the newspapers. The horror is so great, I simply can't process it. One of the RNAs at my mom's nursing home has ten brothers and sisters living in Port au Prince. All are safe and have been accounted for with the exception of one sister whose whereabouts are still unknown. One of her nieces died in the earthquake. I can't even imagine. The worst thing is that she can't do anything to help them in these early days. There is no way to get anything to them, no way to help them directly. So many people are generously digging into their wallets to provide financial help. For now, I'm holding off. I think I'll wait until we know what is happening with Ellianne's family. I can live without a tax receipt. I'd rather put the money into her hands so she can help them with their needs.

Last night we celebrated Nancy's sixty-third birthday at a dinner party hosted by Marg and Bob. The dinner they made was magnificent and I ate far too much. Nancy seemed excited about the gift we gave her (a joint effort with Cath and Stan)of a new laptop. Unfortunately we could only provide her with the mouse and a picture of the laptop last night because the real thing isn't being delivered until tomorrow. Buying the laptop was Cath's idea as Nancy is still using my hand-me-down from 2002. Her new one is light weight, fast and really cute. Jacob chose the model and I chose the colour, a great shade of purple. Jacob also ordered a router which he will install the next time he is home from school. The router will allow Nancy to use the laptop wirelessly from any room in her apartment. And though she probably won't take the laptop out much, Jacob insisted that she needed a proper laptop bag so the purple bag she received last night was his gift to her.

Today's visit to my Mom had its challenges. Mom's unit is locked down due to an enteric outbreak at the nursing home. The rules limited us to one visitor at a time and confined Mom to her unit. Cath, however, managed to talk her way into taking Mom into the lounge outside the unit where we normally meet on Sundays and we were all able to join her there. Mom was quiet today but she is recovering from the respiratory infection she has been dealing with these past two weeks.

I expect the coming week to be busy with work and board activities. On Wednesday, my friend Gail and I are hoping to take a tea and tootsies break (pedicures followed by high tea at the Windsor Arms Hotel) before heading off to our Clinic board meeting. Saturday will be consumed with an all day strategic planning meeting for the Willow board which I'll take the lead on as head of the board's strategic planning committee. I need to spend at least two days this week on consulting activities in the office at Willow. And I have a considerable amount of prep work to do to get ready for Saturday. I'm also hoping Jacob will find a couple of hours in his calendar to allow for lunch or dinner, if not this week then perhaps on the weekend when Merv can also join us.

Wishing you a great week.

Solitude

“Life is a train of moods like a string of beads; and as we pass through them they prove to be many colored lenses, which paint the world their own hue, and each shows us only what lies in its own focus.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Merv left for San Diego in the early morning hours yesterday. By the time Jacob and I hit the highway for Jacob's return trip to school, Merv was emailing to report that he was sitting in his shirtsleeves having a drink by the bay.

The drive to Guelph started a little later than I had planned. Jacob was reluctant to head back having enjoyed the comforts of home these past three weeks. He pushed our departure time back several times until I finally implored him to allow me to do at least one leg of the drive in the daylight. By the time we got to the university, got his dorm room key, made a couple of trips to unload the car and said our goodbyes, it was going on 5:00 P.M. Jacob was quite happy, having been greeted by one of the other guys in his dorm pod and about six pretty girls. I was experiencing mixed feelings - sadness at knowing how much I will miss him and that he won't be home again for the next five weeks accompanied by the sense of freedom that comes from knowing I will be living in an empty house for the next few days.

I stopped at the grocery store when I got back to Toronto and bought a mixed sushi dinner and a few treats. I was barely in the door when I retrieved the box of beads I ordered on-line from a Vancouver bead maker that was shipped to me a couple of weeks ago. I grabbed my laptop and my dinner, slipped into some comfy pajamas and took everything to bed with me. The beads are absolutely gorgeous - the product of a true artist. I spread them out all over the bed, turned on the TV and played the entire third season of "Big Love" while I made bracelets and bookmarks and played with combinations of lampwork beads and quartz, amethyst and pearls.

Around midnight I turned off the television, pulled shut the bedroom curtains, tucked away my beads and drifted off to sleep. I slept like a stone. Today was filled with my usual Sunday activities - a leisurely read of the newspaper and completion of the crossword puzzle and three sudoku puzzles, housework and a visit to my mom's. But when I got back tonight, I again enjoyed the luxury of dinner in bed while watching my favorite shows and a couple more hours of playing with my beads.

I miss the boys, but there is a lot to be said for the luxury of time alone.