the brain of a monkey

First:

My spouse and I had the following conversation this morning:

T.: "I had a really hard time falling asleep last night."

Me: "Did you have monkey brain?"

T: "What? Like I couldn't stop thinking about bananas?"

Second:

I woke up feeling kind of bummed out this morning. After coffee, my mood changed dramatically. I actually tweeted, "I think I love coffee the most."

Third:

Speaking of Twitter, a bunch of folks have changed their time zone to Tehran, in order to confuse Iranian censors. I've done it, too, although I am not sure if this really works. And I love the fact Twitter and Facebook are playing a role in helping activists all over the world get the word out. Makes me feel virtuous and less like I am just wasting time (although, I know it's a stretch to describe playing a Scrabble knock-off and commenting on my friends' status updates as activism).

Fourth:

Just over one week of school left. Double-edged sword, that. S. has had a fantastic teacher this year. Can't say the same of D. His teacher was complaining that he does his own thing too much, like reading a book by himself during story time. Um, perhaps this is because he is READING NOVELS while she is teaching the kids what sound the letter 'a' makes. Sigh.

Next year, he is switching schools and entering the "gifted" program (this term is a "don't get me started." Both my kids have tested as "profoundly gifted." My friend M. says we should just call these kids "idiosyncratic learners." Another terrific teacher once said, "It's just another kind of spec. ed." These kids have their own set of learning challenges and my older son is thriving in the program). It will be great to have the kids in the same school.

Fifth:

My older son has been asking for guitar lessons for a shamefully long time (shameful because music is an area of my kids' education that we have sorely neglected). I just signed him up for Rock School. If he enjoys the week, we will sign him up for lessons.

Sixth:

I have never set foot in an Abercrombie and Fitch. The fact that this beautiful young woman was relegated to the stockroom because she has a prosthetic arm has ensured that I never will.

Seventh:

My Xmas tree is still in my back yard. I think that's kind of sad.

Eighth:

I am seeing my oncologist in person for the first time in months, this afternoon. I plan to give him a copy of my book and remind him that we discussed taking a break this summer. I plan to skip treatment in July (so I can go to BlogHer). I also want to ask him if I can take August off as well. If he has any hesitation about this at all, though. I won't push.

I promised.

Ninth:

Posting gratuitous photos of my son being goofy (future blackmail fodder for sure). Noticed that I look even goofier in that hat but decided that censorship on that basis would be hypocritical. Thanks to my bro-in-law for capturing the moment with his cell phone.

down and up and some parentheses

Well, hello there.

It's been quite the week.

On June, 10th, I woke up with a sore throat. I didn't take my temperature until early afternoon, by which time it became clear that I was running a fever. I called the nurse who works with my oncologist (I'm supposed to do this, since I have a suppressed immune system, thanks to chemotherapy) and was directed to go to the emergency room at the hospital connected to the cancer centre.

I really, really balked at going but within three hours I was home with a prescription for penicillin (I think chemo recipients get fast-tracked through emergency these days). I was moved pretty quickly to my own treatment room (the most traumatic moments came when I was asked if I minded if a less-experienced nurse accessed my portacath. Within minutes, there were five nurses in the tiny room, in addition to my spouse and I. There was lots of fumbling and it took a couple of tries but eventually they got things working). After examining me, the doctor concluded that I was "a very sick person."

What was foremost on my mind, as I lay waiting for the doctor (in addition to the observation that having strep throat or the flu is nowhere nearly as scary as cancer), was that the Toronto launch for my book was supposed to happen the next day.

I spoke to my publisher but decided not to make any decisions that night, in case I felt better the next day (that was a mix of denial and delirium). My GP called the next morning to check in on me and said, explicitly what I needed to hear, "You are sick. Don't travel." (No kidding)

The publisher decided that morning that they would proceed without me. I was disappointed but understood completely. I sent out a few messages to that effect and went back to bed. When I awoke, I found out that the event had been postponed. I was pleased and sent out another round of emails, tweets and Facebook updates. I am sorry if I confused any of you with these messages (and even sorrier if you showed up for the event to find out it was cancelled).

Everyone at Women's Press was really, really kind to me and very sympathetic about all the scrambling they had to do at the last minute. I will post an update when we re-schedule the launch.

In other news, we had a sleepover involving eight 11 year old boys on Saturday night. My house will never be the same. What made us do this (other than love for our son)? More denial. It appears I am still very good at it.

I also took two extremely excited 6 year olds on the O-Train to the movie theatre. We saw Up. I loved it. And the little dervishes settled down and were mesmerized for the duration. It was the quietest part of my week end.

choosing to feel relief

J-Dog, ignoring the paparazzi.

Have you ever been so afraid of something that you've been unable to talk about it

That happened to me early last week when I found a lump under my dog's front leg (in what I keep thinking of as his arm-pit). My heart stopped. I took my hand away and checked again and it hadn't gone away.

As memories of finding the lump in my breast came flooding back, I found myself saying out loud, "This just can't be anything. Lumps can happen for all sorts of reasons." But I felt really queasy.

Over the next couple of days, I kept checking (my poor dog was getting rather irritated with me). The lump clearly didn't bother him (but neither did mine). It felt hard to the touch (bad) but it seemed to move around a bit (good - but I wasn't sure this wasn't just wishful thinking on my part).

Last Thursday, I bit the bullet and took him to the vet. He felt at the spot and said, "It's a fatty tumour." He put his hand on my arm and said, "Am I worried about this? No. And it's not bothering him but if you are worried, I can remove it. Or I can do a biopsy."

"It's benign?" I stammered.

"Yes. It will grow slowly and he will probably get others but unless it starts to bother him, we don't need to do anything." And then he repeated, "I am not worried."

It was a good appointment. The vet pronounced both dogs to be "perfect" (I'd brought in Lucy, too), gave them their shots and told me to have a good summer.

So I left, feeling europhic.

In the last week, I have felt some niggling doubts, though. I know too much about cancer. I know far too many stories of people who were told that lumps were very unlikely to be cancer, only to find out the worst. Why would dogs be any different?

But the truth is, that I don't know what I would do if the lump were a cancerous tumour. Probably nothing very different. I can't imagine subjecting my dog to cancer treatment.

It was so hard losing Emma but she had lived a long life. I cried for Eli, who died a few weeks ago (we still owe him a eulogy). Losing Jasper, though, who's only nine, would break my heart. We call him my boyfriend (especially when we exchange meaningful glances and sneak off to bed together). He is sweet and quirky and very, very smart (he hid behind me when the vials came out for the vaccinations, even before he saw the needles). He's an old soul, too, as many have remarked. I am choosing to believe that all is well. The alternative does bear consideration.

I am not the only one who loves this dog.

Gratuitous photo of Lucy.

through the years

I missed doing a birthday post for S. this year. His birthday was on May 10 and he turned 11.

My beautiful, sweet boy is on the cusp of adolescence. He is smart, funny and talented and a really good person.

These attributes will serve him well as he navigates the waters ahead.

It does seem like only yesterday, though that he was typing on his first keyboard.

1998

2006

2009

the archives excite me (and not just because i'm married to a librarian)

I love where I live.

I have spent time in almost every Canadian province and territory (I have never been to Saskatchewan or Nunavut). I have lived in small towns and a big city. I am convinced that I am living in the right place for me (I note that it's easy to write this as I sit in the back yard with my laptop on a cool day in late spring. The weather extremes - which are frequent - do test my love). I love the scale of Ottawa, it's beauty (lots of federal money gets poured into keeping the capital attractive) and, most of the time, it's character.

If we had a decent transit system, things would be even better. We could also do with more bike lanes. And we need to fix the potholes so that riding my bike wouldn't be such a jarring experience. But, all in all, Ottawa is just big enough that there are lots of things to do and small enough that it doesn't take too long to get most places.

This past weekend, was Doors Open Ottawa and my family decided to visit a few places that were new to us.

First, we went to the warehouse behind the Museum of Science and Technology (the museum is long-overdue for an expansion and houses far more items in it's warehouse than it has on display, yet the exhibits never seem to change). However, when we got there, we found out that you had to make reservations to get on a tour and that the next tour was not for another hour (note to Doors Open planners: It would be great if this fact were noted on the program for the weekend). My youngest son opted to stay at the museum with a friend and his dad and the rest of us (my older son, spouse, sister and brother-in-law) decided to move on.

Next up was the Gladstone Theatre. The woman who greeted us at the door explained the renovations that took place when the theatre changed hands a couple of years ago. She also told us that, this past season, the plays with a more upbeat theme were infinitely better attended. This influenced the choice of plays for this year's season, all of which will "have you leave with a smile on your face." (My sister whispered to me that the last play she saw, pre-renovation, was called Stones In His Pockets and that it was excellent. That's kind of the opposite of the theatre's current offerings, though). Once inside, we were given an excellent and informative demonstration of the theatre's lighting and sound room (is that what it's called?).

My only complaint was that the theatre had scheduled auditions for the same day as Doors Open and we were asked to leave ten minutes after our arrival (our presence when they were warming up must have been nerve-wracking for the actors. This would have been another good thing to note in the program).

From there, we went across the street to the gallery owned by the Enriched Bread Artists. I have walked by this building many, many times and I thought they made bread there. In fact, the factory was closed a while back and a group of artists bought it to create studio space and a gallery. One of the artists, Danny Hussey, took time out from his work to greet us and answer questions about finding time for art, his background and inspirations. And we saw some very interesting art. I'll go back.

The last place we visited turned out to be my favourite. The City of Ottawa Archives is currently housed (they are moving to a bigger space in the fall of 2010) in a building designed by Moshe Safdie, who also designed the National Gallery and the building has a similar feel, with a ramped entrance, lots of natural light and vaulted ceilings. It was built on an Island and has a stream flowing under the building. It must be a great place to work (and to sit outside having lunch).

What I loved best about the archives, though, was the vault.

I loved the sprinkler system and the fact that their are little disks with wax on them. When the wax melts (from heat) the sprinkler comes on in only that area gets sprayed, thus keeping water damage to a minimum (ingeniously simple).

I loved learning that when old photos disintegrate, they smell like vinegar.

I loved seeing the mayor's robes that have been worn by all recent mayors except our previous one (the archivist said that Mayor Chiarelli declined to say why he wouldn't wear them).

I loved the art and the sports equipment (there was once an abortive attempt to establish a sports hall of fame in Ottawa and the Archives acquired all the exhibits). These will create some wonderful displays in the new building.

I also loved the old ledgers and maps and records of this city.

The Archivist must have loved me. I kept squealing in delight and saying, "That's so cool!"

I might have been less vocal a few years ago but I see no point in holding back positive feedback. I was interested. I was impressed. I was enthused.

It was fun.

book launch 2.0

This is cutting a little to close to home to be as amusing as it should be.




The guy in the video is Denis Cass (who, as it turns out, has a pretty cool web site) and his book is How I Almost Lost My Mind Trying To Understand My Brain.

will you be there?

So I have become all angsty about the Toronto book launch.

Despite the fact that the Ottawa launch was a huge success.

Despite the fact that Eve Goldberg is going to sing a couple of her songs - which will be an amazing experience in and of itself.

Despite the fact that many of you have expressed an interest in attending.

So. Will you help to take the edge off the stress?

Can you let me know if you will be there?

You will have my undying gratitude.

Launch info:

Toronto Womens' Bookstore
73 Harbord Street (at Spadina)
June 11, 7-9pm.
With a special performance by Eve Goldberg (at around 7:30), followed by a reading from the book.

taking care of my body in 2009: part 6 (or you have to be ready)

First of all, let's review the goals I set for myself last month:

1-Walk VIGOROUSLY for an average of one hour, five times per week (300 minutes a week).

This is a good place to start, since I did well, accomplishing this goal and exceeding it. Next month, I may think about doing something to ratchet up the intensity.

For now, I am also riding my bike around town. As a result, I have a sore rear end. I am sure this will get better.

2- Do either 10 minutes (at least) of strength training or yoga with the Wii Fit or abdominal exercises every day (chemo recovery days excluded).

I did this only 4 times. I also hurt my back this month, pulling my suitcase down from a shelf on the train. I was in a hurry and not paying attention. It was a bit of a wake-up call about the need to improve my core strength.

To that end, I saw my physiotherapist again on Monday. She surprised me by saying that, when it comes to my back, the stiffness in my hips is a bigger problem (she actually said, only half-joking that she is surprised that I can walk). She said it she hasn't seen anyone as stiff as I am in a long time.

So, I now have some stretches that I need to do regularly in addition to the core strengthening.

3-Go to yoga once every week.

I didn't go at all in May. And despite the fact that my physio says that she sees "a lot of yoga in my future" I think that I may not go again until the fall.

It's becoming harder to find a class I can attend regularly (and this will only get worse over the summer, with fewer classes and the kids around more). And I don't really want to go back to the class I have attended the most regularly (the timing is good but the teacher, always more impatient than most, actually yelled and swatted another student the last time we went. It was a bit of a turnoff).

Besides, I feel that I have a lot on my fitness plate right now.

4- Take my vitamin D and calcium supplements daily.

I didn't do this in May either but I am 2 for 3 in June. And going to take them with lunch, I promise.

Now for the big change. I have decided to start doing the Weight Watchers thing again. It's a program that has worked for me before (I lost almost 50 lbs after D. was born) and I feel ready to do it again.

I know I said this last year but this time I have a support group, comprised of two good friends who also would like to get down to their pre-breast cancer diagnosis weight. For four weeks now, we have been weighing in every Monday. They are both doing WW and I have just been reporting on exercise and my quest to eat more veggies.

Then, on the weekend, I admitted to myself that I have the best success when I write everything down that I put in my mouth. And I also realized that I am ready to do this. It wouldn't have done me any good to start earlier in the year. I am ready now. And it feels like the right thing to do.

I did check with my doctor. The conversation went like this:

Me: "I am thinking of making some changes to try and take off some of the weight I have been putting on since my diagnosis..."

Dr.: "Have you considered Weight Watchers?"

So, clearly I have the green light to do this now. And I don't have the discipline to do this any other way than really slowly.

This process will also help me reach these goals:

5-Cook dinner at least once a week.

Easier to count points if I know what went into dinner. Easier to stretch those points out if I prepare lower points options for all of us.

6-Cut down on refined sugar.

I really don't want to waste points on empty calories.

7-Eat seven servings of fruit and veggies a day.

Conversely, filling up on fruit and veggies makes those points go further.

As you can see, I have all the zeal of someone on the third day of a diet. And I'm hungry.

I need to make vegetable soup today.

What goals did you set for yourself this year? How are you doing?

i have excuses (no, the dog didn't eat my blog posts)

I'm back.

I didn't intend to keep Will and Billy and the boys at the top of the page for so long. I keep meaning to post but I never seem to get around to it. I wanted to assure those who have expressed concern that all is well.

It's time to re-commit to regular updates and to begin, please let me explain my absence:

The last round of chemo was kind of hard. I'm not sure if I was hit with an additional bug but I experienced some really gruesome side effects (I'll let you use your imagination), especially last Friday, when I should have started to feel better.

The truth is, that I am taking longer to recover every round, these days. My oncologist has suggested that I skip a treatment this summer. I plan on taking July off so I can go to BlogHer (Did I mention that I got in? I was so disappointed when I came back from Florida to find that the conference had sold out. I can't really afford this but when I learned that there was a space for me, I hesitated for only a couple of hours before taking out the credit card. After all, my book will be there, I want to be there with it!)

I'm going to ask my doc if I can take August off, as well. It can't hurt to ask, right?

When I have felt well, I have been running around a fair bit. I have had a bunch of appointments (among other things, I have returned to physio and lymphatic massage, after taking a long break), errands and other commitments.

Last week end, for example, my spouse and I took D. to the Cumberland Heritage and Power Festival. There were so many cool things there, a steam powered rock crusher, water-powered toys and little tiny steam trains on which you could ride. I wish I had brought my camera. The photos would have made a great blog post.

I blame Twitter. I find sometimes that I have begun to compose my thoughts in 140 characters. For example, I tweeted about my brain MRI results but I see that I didn't write about them here (I think this is a common problem. I remember Average Jane citing Twitter as an excuse for not blogging). They were great results, by the way with absolutely nothing suspicious in evidence, or as I reported to my spouse, "There is nothing there."

I have had BSG to watch knitting to do.

Promoting my book, while fun, has left me kind of uninspired. But I am getting past that. How many more times can I say, "Please buy my book?" or "Don't forget about the Toronto launch on June 11?"

The truth is I haven't been doing much writing of any kind lately. And I miss it. I just seem to have fallen out of the habit.

But the only way to make something a habit is to do it.

So here I am.

maybe it's the demerol

Or post-chemo brain rot.

But I loved this:

poignant and powerful

This past week end, I attended my niece's 13th birthday party. It was a really big deal (over 100 guests in attendance), with great food and a DJ. We all had a great time.

I spend a little time on the dance floor (when the era was right. Music from the 60s to the 80s tends to call my name). At one point I noticed my spouse looking over at us rather intently. When I asked him later he told me that he was having a "poignant moment."

We were three strong women, all mothers, all activists in our own way and all at different stages of cancer survivorship. And we were tearing up the dance floor. We were smoking (if I do say so myself) and not just as cancer patients, not just as women over 40. We were three women who loved to dance and who were having a great time.

I remember thinking, I really love dancing with these women. And when I was on the dance floor, I didn't think of cancer at all.

back and back

I am home after a lovely, packed extended week end away.

I also pulled something in my back getting my suitcase off the train as I arrived in Ottawa. It hurts.

I have a bunch of things I want to write about here (my week end, some thoughts on this whole book promoting business, two book reviews and a couple of other things) but today, I am too sore to sit still for long.

Maybe a gentle walk will help.

we had so much fun the first time...

cash would be nice

The last time I checked in for chemo, I accidentally handed the receptionist my Subway card, instead of my green hospital card.

She thought this was so funny, that she showed everyone in the room. I pretended to be angry, trying to grab the card back. It felt good to laugh in that, sometimes sad, place.

I told her though, that my subconscious had been at play. I gave her the Subway card because I feel that after so many rounds of chemo, I should get some sort of bonus prize.

thank you

The book launch last night was lovely.


And at least one person had a very good time.

I am feeling more than a little overwhelmed. Thanks to all who came, helped get the word out and put up posters.

Thanks especially to the staff at the First Avenue Day Care and Octopus Books. I don't have words to what a fantastic, beautiful and loving job these women did.

The only hard thing was that I didn't get to spend as much time with every single person who came as I would have liked. I love you all.

the apple and the tree

At about 8:30 last night, D. came downstairs.

D.: "Papa, can I sleep in your bed?"

My spouse: "Why can't you sleep in your own bed?"

D.: "There are too many books in my bed."


Tonight is my Ottawa book launch. My right eye has been twitching furiously all morning. Going to step away from the computer and take some deep breaths.

not done yet: sassymonkey's entirely unbiased review

I need to start with a little disclosure. Sassymonkey and I have become friends over the last few years and since she has moved to Ottawa, we have spent quite a few hours (we have our own little table at a bar in Little Italy), knitting and talking over pints.

This review really moved me.

"Laurie writes about life. There are times when the book will make you laugh, and other times where you’ll want to kick someone in the shins on her behalf. There are moments, both good and bad, that take your breathe away. Laurie shares the tough stuff but she also shares the soft side of her life, like the song by Daniel on May 8, 2007 that starts, “I love my mama and she is so beautiful.”...

...I’ve learned so much from Laurie, both from her blog and from reading her book. I have a hard time putting it in words but the best I can sum it up is this - she’s taught me more about living life with grace than I ever could have hoped to learn. Life isn’t about the big stuff. Life is lived in the in-between moments. It’s the walk to the library on chilly fall morning, the skate on the canal in the winter. It’s cooking dinner. It’s afternoons with friends. It’s pints and knitting and books."

I feel very honoured to have my work described in this way.

You can read the rest of the review, here.

buzzing brain

I had a brain MRI today. I'd never had one before and it's a pretty weird experience.

I'm not worried about anything in particular. I just thought it would be a good idea, after hearing an oncologist speak at the Conference For Young Women Affected By Breast Cancer that I attended last February.

It wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared. It turns out that I am not at all claustrophobic (and I was so relieved that the technician managed to access a vein for the contrast injection on the first try that nothing after that fazed me at all).

But boy, was it loud. And my neck is still stiff from the brace they used to hold my head steady. It's been hours since I left the hospital and I feel like I am still vibrating. It felt like a jackhammer being used right beside my head. My teeth were chattering from the vibration.

And I am exhausted (although that my be from waking up every forty-five minutes again to make sure that I didn't oversleep).

I'm not going to worry too much about the results (although I may change my mind about that in the next few days).

My CT results from last week were good (still no tumours in sight).

And besides, there were several women at the young women's conference who had recently had surgery for brain metastasis. Every month seems to bring more options for the treatment of cancer.

And it's nice outside.

I am either going to take a nap now or go pick up dog poo in the back yard.

And then I'll go for a walk.

taking care of my body in 2009: part 5

Alternative title: "a mixed bag"

Alternative title: "doritos do not make a healthy lunch"

Alternative title: "time to bring in some support"

As my first alternative title suggests, I have had some mixed success this month, in my quest to "treat my body as well as I treat my mind" in 2009.

Let's review, shall we?

1-Walk VIGOROUSLY for an average of one hour, five times per week (300 minutes a week).

I did very well on this front, meeting my goal and exceeding it. I am especially pleased, given that I had such a terrible cold for a while. And I am very proud of the fact that I went for a long walk every day that I was at the Conference for Women Living With Advanced Breast Cancer (near Philly). I walked after checking in at the hotel, at the end of a long day on Saturday and organized a late check-out so that I could walk again before going to the airport.

2-Go to yoga once every week.

I went twice. I can definitely do better. I did have semi-valid excuses (conflicts and a head cold that made it impossible for me to bend down) but really, I can do better.

I'm going Wednesday morning, OK? I'll report back afterwards.

3. Do either 10 minutes (at least) of strength training or yoga with the Wii Fit or abdominal exercises every day (chemo recovery days excluded).

I used the Wii Fit once. I did the abdominal exercises three times (every day when I was away and then not again). Yeah, I caught a cold and then had chemo. But there were lots of days I could have worked at it and didn't.

I think I will lower the bar to 5-10 minutes and try again.

And that's the good news.

4-Cook dinner at least once a week.
5-Cut down on refined sugar.
6-Eat seven servings of fruit and veggies a day.
7- Take my vitamin D and calcium supplements daily.

When it comes to input, things have been a little out of control.

The dinners I "cooked" were as instant as possible.

I have eaten more sugar and fried stuff in the last month than I have in a very long time (Easter, Passover, travelling and my son's birthday provided the excuse). And the volume of food has vastly exceeded my needs.

The whole fruit and veggie thing has been extremely haphazard. I stopped keeping track but I'm probably averaging three servings a day (if I am incredibly generous in my calculation).

I can't remember the last time I took the lid off a supplement.

Clearly, it's time for some more drastic action.

I'm not talking about buying into the beauty myth or wanting to look like Posh Beckham. I just need to take better care of myself.

My lymphedema is worse and has started to be painful.

The bigger pants I bought are becoming tight.

I have aches and pains in my joints.

I feel sluggish and run down.

Now, I know not all of this is attributable to diet (early menopause and chemo are playing a role) but I do have control over what goes into my mouth.

I keep attending workshops on diet and nutrition, as it relates to cancer (went to another excellent one at the conference I have yet to write about) and I have years of Weight Watchers and reading obsessively about diets under my belt.

Going back to Weight Watchers might help (I tried doing the online last year and without a person to hold me to account, it was a bust) but we really can't afford it right now and the idea of dragging my ass to meetings is extremely unappealing.

So, my friend C. (who is feeling much as I have been) and I have hatched a plan. We are going to track what we eat, weigh in weekly and report in to each other. And then we'll have a little mini-meeting about what things are working for us and why other things might not be. My goals for this month aren't changing (no specific weight loss goal and I won't count points) but I will keep careful track of my promises to myself.

This kind of accountability has worked for me when it comes to my writing goals so it can only help on the health front. When I was meeting with my coach in January (without whom I would never have finished the book, started writing fiction or done so many other things that made me feel happy and purposeful in 2008), I set the following goals for the year:

I want to fit back into my pre-diagnosis pants (two sizes smaller than my current ones).

I want to have a strong core.

I want to feel fit and strong.

I think these goals are realistic and achievable. I just need to keep my eye on the prize.

Going to go throw out the empty Doritos bag and weigh myself with the Wii Fit now.

not done yet on toddler planet

"Not Done Yet is one of the good things to come out of this new approach to living publicly, to letting the light shine in on troubles and illness, and it is a very good thing indeed."

Thank you, WhyMommy. I feel the same way about everything you write.

what i set out to do

PJ Hamel, had the following to say about my book, in a review she wrote for MyBreastCancerNetwork.Com (Health Central):

Wry. Real. Dealing with it. That’s Laurie’s story. It’s a personally familiar one, for so many of us. Through her week-by-week, sometimes day-by-day detailing of cancer treatment laid atop everyday life (the dog, the kids, school and work), we relive with Laurie those emotions many of us have experienced. And it’s a bittersweet feeling, this “been there, done that” comparison of radiation burns, telling your small son you have cancer, and losing your hair.

This isn’t a sad book. Nor is it a sicky-sweet, “Oh, cancer has been so good to me” book. It’s just… true. A regular woman dealing with cancer as best she can. And writing about it in an utterly compelling way.

This review made me really happy. It means a lot that PJ liked the book. She also made me feel like I achieved what I set out to do.

That's a really good feeling.

book is launching

An Ottawa reminder:





And a Toronto update:

Mark your calendars! The Toronto launch of Not Done Yet set for Thursday, June 11 at the Toronto Women's Book Store. Details coming soon.

isn't this lovely?

I'm still feeling crappy, so I thought I would share something that really makes me smile.

I met Claudia at the 2009 Conference for Young Women Affected By Breast Cancer. Every time I saw her, she was wearing a very different and very funky hat.

This one, made from coffee filters was one of my favourites:




When Claudia was diagnosed with breast cancer, she launched the She Arts Project: "a collaboration with 30+ Artists with photographs from Meg Luther Lindholm."

The photographs eventually became part of an travelling exhibit. You can see more of them here.

I love this kind of thing.

what they said.

I am wiped.

I had a CT scan at 7:15 this morning (and we got back late from family adventures in Toronto), so of course I didn't sleep last night, worrying about over-sleeping (as it turned out I had made a mistake setting the alarm but I woke up anyway) and of course about some horrible mass that could be growing on my innards (I have no reason to anticipate bad news but this never stops me from being anxious).

S. and D. were BOTH home today with different viruses picked up over the week end. One is hacking and coughing and sneezing and one has a stomach bug. My immune system feels very threatened.

I am so tired that I'm hysterical and letting my inner hypochondriac run wild (I am half-convinced I have swine flu).

So, instead of words of wisdom, I give you some other wise women's words:



I first saw this video at the conference I went to recently, for women with advanced breast cancer, when Living Beyond Breast Cancer unveiled it there. With several women in the video present for the viewing (and several others represented were women I met in Dallas).

It was very, very moving.

I was talking to my friend Nicole today and she told me she'd seen the video online. I cried again today when I watched it. It also makes me realize that nothing I have to say on living with metastatic breast cancer is remotely original.

Watch it. These women are more inspiring then Susan Boyle.

Seriously.

Tomorrow is a chemo day. Hope to be writing again by Wednesday.

not done yet: where to buy

Are you getting tired of the relentless self-promotion? Well, like the book, I am Not Done Yet.

I do, however, promise a return to regular programming (at least temporarily) very soon.

Folks have been asking where they can buy my book so I thought I should pull that info together in to one post:

• You can buy the book directly from the publisher (the glitch on the order form has been fixed and it should work easily now). You can link to Women's Press any time, by clicking the photo of the book on the right.

• You can order from Octopus books (or drop in and buy it if you live in Ottawa). And, if you live in Canada, ask your local book store to order the book (this may even work in the US). Please support your local independent book store.

• You can also place an order through Chapters (although the statement that the books usually ships in 3-5 weeks is a bit disconcerting

• The book can be ordered from Amazon.com but not, for some reason, through Amazon.ca.

• Finally, you can order the book directly from me (I have run out but have ordered more). This is the way to get a signed copy. I charge the price of the book and whatever it costs me to mail it (plus GST, in Canada). If you want to go this route, you can email me at "laurie DOT kingston AT gmail DOT com.

Please do let me know if you encounter any bumps when you try to buy the book, so that I can make things right.

"not done yet" reviewed at "mothers with cancer"

Mary Beth Volpini kindly agreed to review my book for our group blog, Mothers With Cancer:

There were entries that I laughed while reading… Monday, July 3, 2006 as her boys pretended to be Wolverine. The most touching entry to me… Wednesday, October 10, 2007 Etching Myself in their Memories … spontaneous tears ran down my cheeks right there in the hair salon. I share those same haunting thoughts.

I am glad that I had the chance to learn more about Laurie. I applaud her courage, her creativity and her approach to life. “Metastatic cancer has not ended my life; it has just caused me to live my life differently.” If my story becomes more similar to Laurie’s, I hope I proceed with the same courage and positive outlook.

You can read the rest of the review here.

Mary Beth is an artist and you can see some of her work, at her personal blog.

d: a photographic retrospective

Earth Day is also D. Day. And a good day to look back over the last six years:

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

Happy birthday to a wonderful boy.

"not done yet" reviewed

photo: L. Steer

"As a survivor, I appreciated her candor on everything from alternative practitioners who blamed her cancer on her negative body image to the way she describes a summer evening walk with a friend that ends with strawberries and whipped cream. The medical and the mundane knit together a complete picture of what it is to live with cancer that might be controlled but never cured."

- Lorri Steer, from her review of Not Done Yet on her blog, Terrible And Beautiful.

hooray!

i may never be the same

The drama.

The excitement.

The friendship.

The laughter.

The rejection.

The politics.

The blood.

The boredom.

The creativity.

The anger.

The joy.

The noise.

The complete and utter exhaustion.

It was a roller coaster, I tell you. Twenty-five Grade 5 kids and three adults on a field trip to the National Gallery of Canada.

It was fun but it really knocked the stuffing out of me.

"not done yet" on blogher

For this blogger turned author, the BlogHer review of Not Done Yet was the among those for which I waited the most eagerly and with the most trepidation.

Denise Taunton, Community Manager (she also regularly blogs the Health and Wellness beat) was tasked with writing the review. Her post came out today:I am channelling Sally Field this evening.



"She (Denise Taunton, not Sally Field) likes me, she really likes me!" Or at least she really liked my book.

"I've read Not Just About Cancer for years and knew Laurie's story would make a compelling book, if she could only manage to pull the "right posts" and emotionally handle the process.

After reading the review copy of Not Done Yet, graciously sent to me by Laurie, I can say without reservation - she did it. She has written an excellent book."

You can read the rest of the review here.

I am thrilled (I celebrated with a glass of wine and a bubble bath, so forgive me if this is less than coherent).

Tomorrow, I am helping to escort 25 Grade Five students to the National Art Gallery. And I still haven't recovered from the week end (and literally running around with a sick 5 year old today). April is proving to be very, very busy. It feels so good to be able to complain about it.

how much popeye before he becomes pop-eyed?

D. is getting a day off after the long week end because of a cold, which has him good spirits but coughing a lot (he insists it's "not a day off when you're sick!").

He is currently watching back-to-back black and white Popeye episodes from the 1930s (he has seen these many, many times and loves them) and I probably should go be a parent.

Here's a link to post that the wonderful Blondie wrote about my book. It really, really moved me.

now, that's parenting

Five year old D. had a friend, N. over to play yesterday evening. For a while, I was alone in the house with them.

They were playing upstairs, when I heard a loud, "Thump!"

Me: "Are you boys OK up there?"

D. and N. (in unison): "Don't come up!"

Me: "If I come up, will I get mad?"

N.: "You'll get mad!"

So, I waited five minutes and then I went upstairs. All evidence of whatever had happened had been cleaned up. The boys were playing quietly.

This is clearly an example of how what I don't know can't hurt me.

random: rubble, reading, rabbit, reunion.

1. The long week end looms and it promises to be a busy one around here.

We are hosting a secular Passover seder for 22 people. At the moment, you can't actually see the top of the dining room table around which most of us will be sitting. We have a ways to go before we are ready. Denial is a wonderful coping mechanism.

My sister and I both married Jewish men, despite being raised in the Catholic Church. My spouse and his brothers all married shiksas (we are reclaiming the derogatory term). We do Passover and Easter (otherwise known as "chocolate rabbit day" or "the one day every year that my kids eat chocolate for breakfast").

On Sunday, the Easter Bunny will be setting up the egg hunt at my spouse's brother and sister in law's house. I'm pretty sure the Bunny will remember to drop off some loot here, too.

2. It seems I have a lot of reading to do.

I have book reviews I need to write for Library Thing and for the Harper Collins First Look Program.

I also have stacks of unread books.

But every time I see or read about a book that might be interesting, I order it from the library. I usually do a pretty good job of making sure that most of these requests are "inactive" so that everything doesn't come in at once.

I forgot to check for a few days (this is really unlike me, I tend to be obsessive about anything involving lists). I now have 24 books ready for pick up and another 45 in transit. I also have 13 already checked out. I think I might be in trouble.

3. Yikes!

I am stressing myself out writing this post. Really, library books, unfinished knitting projects and the novel outline I haven't touched since New Year's Eve shouldn't be stressing me out.

4. After my last post, my mom and my sister have both told me that I am motivating them to re-commit to exercise.

I think that's so cool.

5. One of my Ottawa friends is going to deliver a copy of my book to a friend in Uruguay.

How cool is that? CR has been a friend for many years and we worked together for a while (in the possibly carcinogenic building). CG was my college room-mate 24 years ago and we have recently re-connected.

CR and CG are going to hook up and take a picture together. I cannot tell you how thrilled I am about this.

Going to go walk the dogs, drop off the book and, if there's time start to clean up the house.

Wish me luck.

And have a great week end.

you in?

Of all the things that we can do to help prevent cancer, the evidence that exercise provides enormous benefits continues to mount (and yes, I know we all know folks who were really fit who still got cancer). The magic number is 180 minutes a week (and yes, I know I have said this before. It just bears repeating). You need to break a sweat but you don't need to do all the minutes at once (in fact, you really should spread them out through the course of the week).

So just get out there, OK? Put one foot in front of the other. Go for a swim. Take a class. Jump rope. Do a little pole dancing, if that's your thing (and it is for many, if the popularity of the course at my local community centre is any indication). Just move.

And yeah, it would be a whole lot easier if the weather would cooperate. My walks have been considerably shorter since the snow started falling again.

Accountability Time (or taking care of my body in 2009: part 4).

I didn't make a whole lot of progress in March but I am pulling up my socks and getting back on the horse (and mixing a whole lot of metaphors while I am at it).

Let's review the commitments I've made so far, shall we?

1-Walk VIGOROUSLY for an average of one hour, five times per week (300 minutes a week).

I almost made it. In fact, I came just under 100 minutes short for the month. All things considered (illness, chemo, travelling), that's not too bad.

2-Eat seven servings of fruit and veggies a day.

Not even close, although there were some good days. And we ate well in Florida. I need to focus a bit more on this one.

3-Cook dinner at least once a week.

It depends on how you define 'cooking dinner.' We've been eating way too much junk and prepared foods around here lately. However, I am certainly taking much more responsibility (as compared to almost no responsibility) for the family dinners (and I do that more than once a week).

The last couple of weeks have not been great but if I take a longer view, I am doing much more (and healthier) cooking than I have in my life.

4-Go to yoga once every week.

I went twice in the last five weeks. Not good enough. Especially since I am paying for 8 week sessions.

5-Cut down on refined sugar.

Well, if the goal had been to increase my sugar intake to the point that I felt well and truly addicted and jittery and my pants were getting tighter, I would have done very well.

It all started on the road trip. I would get treats for the kids and a little something for myself. And then the if the kids didn't like the chocolate (my big weakness) I got them then I would get them something else. But a chocolate bar shouldn't go to waste, right? I think my all-time low was the day I ate half a Three Musketeers, half a Milky Way and one and a half of those chocolate bars they sell at the cash at Starbucks.

Or maybe my low point was sending my oldest son to the corner store in the rain last night to get me an Easter Cream Egg (this was after my spouse had failed to return with one for me from the grocery store).

The truth is that for me, sugar is addictive. Once I have a little bit, then I just want more. And I really don't like how it makes me feel.

So it's time to stop.

Except for the organic, vegan chocolate bar that came in the mail today. Raw, organic cane sugar doesn't count, right?

4- Take my vitamin D and calcium supplements daily.

I may have remembered three times. I did get lots of Vitamin D from the sun in Florida, though.

5. Do either 10 minutes (at least) of strength training or yoga with the wii fit or abdominal exercises every day (chemo recovery days excluded).

I did five minutes of abdominal crunches. Once.

But I plan to go and use the Wii Fit (I did buy the thing) right after I finish writing this. Or at some point this evening. Really.

OK. So there is lots of room to improve here. I promised myself that I would end 2009, feeling healthy, fit and strong. Time to renew this commitment.

And I don't think I will make myself any new promises this month. I just need to actually fulfill the old ones.

How about you? How are you doing with the goals you set for 2009?

i love them, too

Me to my spouse: "I love you!"

10 year old son (from the next room): "Mama, are you talking to the dogs again?"

brothers

more things eating things

Sarasota, Florida, March 15.

the shape i'm in

Chemo has left me uninspired.

Here is a link to a story ("Cancer labs no closer to national standards: Despite fresh doubts about tests in B.C. and damning report on Newfoundland scandal, efforts to set quality benchmarks are stalled.") from today's Globe and Mail that made me grumpy.

The quality and accuracy of cancer testing can be so uneven and no province has been exempt from error. The feds don't feel they need to take any responsibility for resolving the problem:

Federal Health Minister Leona Aglukkaq declined to be interviewed for this story, but her press secretary said in an e-mail the federal government will not become involved because "the regulation of pathologists and laboratories is a provincial and territorial responsibility."

If I weren't already feeling queasy, I would be now.