I came across an old medical report from August 1998, in which the doctor uses a rather funny term to say that there is no cancer in my other breast. It states that the mastectomy site appears well healed and there is no evidence of infection. It goes on to say "The left breast is unremarkable". I think that's a matter of opinion!!
It looks like Adam and Tara ran into a few of our distant relatives on their recent trip to Morocco.
I had no idea that goats could climb trees!
I was scrolling through some of my past posts and came across something I wrote a few days ago: “For the record, I think of myself as ‘incurable’, not ‘terminal’”.
When I read that, it struck me as rather strange that I had referred to myself as ‘incurable’. Actually, it's the cancer that is 'incurable', not me! I find it interesting to look at the choice of words I use to describe cancer and its effects.
I’ve sometimes heard myself refer to 'my' cancer. I really don’t want to own it, yet it is unique to me and my body will deal with it in a way that is different than the next person. So I guess it is mine, whether I like it or not.
I said in the same posting “I also think of myself as a ‘survivor’". Another term that I sometimes use is cancer ‘thriver’.
In this week’s column in the Kingston Whig Standard, Sue Hendler explores the use of the word ‘patient’, in I may have breast cancer, but I don’t have to be (a) patient.If you would like to read other columns by Sue Hendler, click on her name below after "Labels".
I've been thinking about my dad a lot the last few days. We weren’t close, but that didn’t make his sudden death last October any easier to deal with. I’ve always said that this blog is a form of self-therapy, so I decided to write about my father, as a way of dealing with his death. It’s a rather sad story, but it felt good to let it out by writing it. I share it in the hope that someone else might find something in it that could be helpful in their own loss and/or complicated family relationships.Click here to read Dance with my Father
Two years ago I was recovering from surgery to remove a tumor from my lung. It was the first time in several winters that I missed skating on the Ottawa canal. Because of my cancer treatments, I thought that I would once again have to pass this year. Now would not be the time to fall and break a bone.
I heard on the radio this morning that today would be the last day that the canal would be open. It was a beautiful mild day and the Ottawa website said that the canal conditions were good. I decided that today was the day; it was meant to be.
I laced my skates up and headed for the canal. I resisted the urge to buy a beaver-tail and just enjoyed the sun and the opportunity to glide along the canal with the rest of the last-day skaters. It did my heart good to know that I didn’t miss out on one of my favorite winter activities, even if I went slow and for a short time. It’s days like today that make me feel fully alive!
Adam's latest Facebook posting says: Adam is riding a mule through the Atlas mountains in Morocco... and can't believe he gets mobile reception here. 
The dolls in the picture were made by my niece Erin (Adam's cousin) as a wedding gift for Adam and Tara. I love that she used velcro so they can hold hands.
My Mom emailed me and pointed out that I have not been on my “blob” (as she calls it) for awhile and wondered if everything is alright. I’m not sure if I have chemo-fog or I'm having a blog-posting slump. Or maybe I just haven’t had much to say lately.
I must admit that some days my brain is slow to function. I keep losing things. The other morning I was looking everywhere for my fleece pants. It took me awhile to realize that I had forgotten to take them off the night before, had worn them to bed and was still wearing them. A few hours later I was on the search for my sunglasses, which turned up ON my head UNDER the hat I was wearing!
It’s hard to tell what is from the Taxotere and what is from the new drug. I still get tired easily and I’ve had some pain in my arms and hands the last few days. That didn’t keep me from enjoying a wonderful weekend away with friends in Algonquin park this past weekend.
Dianne (to the left) is missing from the group photo. I’m not sure if she’s hugging me or trying to keep me from sliding off the ice ledge I’m sitting on :-)
I came across an old medical report from August 1998, in which the doctor uses a rather funny term to say that there is no cancer in my other breast. 
It looks like Adam and Tara ran into a few of our distant relatives on their recent trip to Morocco.
I had no idea that goats could climb trees!
I've been thinking about my dad a lot the last few days. We weren’t close, but that didn’t make his sudden death last October any easier to deal with. 
I heard on the radio this morning that today would be the last day that the canal would be open. It was a beautiful mild day and the Ottawa website said that the canal conditions were good. 
I laced my skates up and headed for the canal. I resisted the urge to buy a beaver-tail and just enjoyed the sun and the opportunity to glide along the canal with the rest of the last-day skaters. It did my heart good to know that I didn’t miss out on one of my favorite winter activities, even if I went slow and for a short time. 
Dianne (to the left) is missing from the group photo. I’m not sure if she’s hugging me or trying to keep me from sliding off the ice ledge I’m sitting on :-)
