ECG...is this thing on?

I spent 30 minutes scrubbing sticky residue off my chest this morning in a state of frustration and exhaustion. I acquired my portable ECG monitor yesterday for a 24 hour trial after bringing concerns to my doctor about my heart randomly starting to pound over the past 6 weeks. It’s becoming more frequent and intense, but apparently the cure is to wear a heart monitor… because nothing happened the whole time I wore it! It’s just particularly awful because I have bruising and rash between my chest and round my ribs where the jumper cable sticker thingy’s were and a headache from another sleepless (yet calm and rhythmic) night. Eerrr!

Last week I was talking to the therapist I started seeing months ago when the whole cancer thing started and during a conversation about sleep it dawned on me that I have not slept, like truly and deeply slept in almost a year now. By the time I was diagnosed I could barely lie down without suffocating from the mass and fluid that was rising in my lungs (and later heart) not to mention a choking cough, night sweats and itching… I was a zombie for about 4 months before prior to my x-ray. Then broken painful fragments of sleep during my stay in the hospital after surgery, and straight into chemo with all its side effects shortly after. I can honestly say I sleep in fragments never really hitting REM for very long, no wonder my short term memory is getting worse by the… what was I saying?

On a bright note it snowed for the first time yesterday, big time! I should be grumpy about it (like everyone else) but the whole house was piercingly bright this morning with the sun reflected off the snow which is so much better than the last 2 weeks of rain. Plus for me the faster we move from one season to the next, the faster I get through this. Ill be grumpy when I go shovel off my car later, jeeze where’s my portable ECG now!

"pic" & choose, but ya can't have it all.

My hair is growing back! Three weeks ago I was almost bald. I had a rapidly thinning brush-cut that was quickly starting to look more "chemo patient" and less "GI Jane" by the day. No sooner had I resolved myself to the fact that I was going to have to bic my lid, it started to grow again. Prior to cutting/ shaving off my hair, it was long, straight and red... with a great deal of silver on the sides of my head. Although I had no idea just how much silver was there, (thanks to Clairol) until my head was shaved exposing the roots; the sides of my head looked bald due to the lack of hair pigment!

Anyways the hair growing back is already much darker all over my head, and brown. The nurses advise me it will likely fall out again over the final three months of my treatment, and speculate that this crop of hair is due to the last chemo round(s) not happening to take effect during my heads hair growth cycle. Whatever, I’m enjoying it while I got it! And really looking forward to my new hair after chemo as I hear it could come back another colour and curly… “Oh to be curly! Please god after all this I deserve rich curly locks, devoid of grey!”

Four weeks ago I got a pic line put in my left arm – fant-“ass”-tic! Four weeks later, still not impressed. The merits of a pic line are: They save your veins from over use and damage resulting from over use and chemo. They are also a non-surgical procedure, and easier to get that a portacath. I was too chicken shit to get either a pic or port in the beginning and waited until my veins were collapsing, and the burning up and down my arms (from chemo) kept me up at night… and on a steady dose of pain killers before I conceded to sign up. By then the waiting list was too long for a port so I got a pic line within two weeks of requisite. Lesson for ya: Don’t be an ass, listen to your nurses and get a port or a pic when you start this process to avoid the above.

The downside to the pic line is: it’s a bulky tool kit on your arm for everyone to see. The bandages itch all the time. Local bloodwork clinics can not use pic lines, so you still get a needle unless you go to the hospital. It’s a bitch to get comfortable at night if you’re an “arm under head sleeper” and my favorite… it has to be flushed with saline every week. The later is the worst for me because after 4 months of treatment I can now taste the saline when I get my lines flushed (it has to be flushed after every chemo, blood work and cleaning) and it makes me nauseous. In the beginning I couldn’t taste it, nor would it have affected me if I could, but the body is smart! After awhile it learns that everytime we taste this shit bad things happen and we feel sick, so let’s just cut to the chase and feel sick anyways. Patterned responses, hard to control, hard to overcome. So in the end, every chance I get to not use the line, I opt for a needle (collapsed veins = 2-3 try’s) just to avoid a flush… why do I have this pic line again?

Let's Wig Out!

Well I made it this far; I'm halfway through my treatment with great progress, and I feel like celebrating!

These days I'm getting pretty sick being bald and am dying to get out there with some fun new hair, but I don't want to do it alone. (I'm sure you can all relate, because being bald is just like having a bad hair day... except it doesn't go away the next day - imagine everyday all day... ahhh!)

So Id like to propose we pull out our party wigs and go out for cocktails to celebrate... trust me you don't want to dance in a wig - too hot!

Being the types of girls you are... I know you crazy bitches so well... most of you already have wigs in your tickle trunks. For those of you that don't, well it was just a matter of time before someone like you (wild & crazy) ended up with one! lol

Let's get together Friday August 5th at 8pm at The Collection in the Byward Market. I hope you can all make it, I really need a girls night out and miss your company. Please reply asap below and remember to come incognito!

Sobbing with Joy!

A tear started rolling down my cheeks as I walked out of the hospital this afternoon, and by the time I hit the hwy I was sobbing with joy. I had a check up with my hematologist to see how I had progressed halfway through my treatments, and the news was great. After four months of chemo, the mass in my chest is almost gone.

At first I found it odd to be sobbing over the news, since I barely cried when I found out I had cancer. I mean I cried a little (or allot at specific periods) but it was more about upsetting my family, never the cancer. I always accepted the cancer like a moment I knew was coming had finally arrived.

Why does it mean so much to me to know that it’s almost gone? I think I figured it out… I didn’t know I had so much to be afraid of when I began treatments. Ignorance is bliss, and that bliss got me through about the first three months of treatments. Knowledge, experience and fear has started to wear me down over the last month.

Thank god there is nothing to compare just how horrible chemotherapy can make you feel. If I had known… I can’t even finish this sentence; I have no answer for it. I don’t know what would have happened if I had even just a taste of how four months into the future might feel. It’s that knowledge of how awful it does feel that had shaken my resolve over the past month when anticipating future treatments.

Everyone was really enthusiastic about me reaching my halfway point in treatment, but I couldn’t get into it the same way this news has affected me. To them the worst was almost done; to me the worst was still coming. Chemo doesn’t get any easier; it’s cumulative and gets worse everytime! I hate to articulate that to anyone who’s just started. I feel like I’ve told you a bully’s about to kick your ass around the next corner, rather than let you take at least the first half the surprise beating in shock.

Anyways this news has given me back something that I didn’t realize was missing until it popped back in my head tonight, “you can do this, you’re strong”. I run an inner monolog constantly, I mean constantly! (I keep myself up at night because I wont shut up.) I tell myself that I am a strong person all the time! It is a constant phrase in my mind during tough times, because… well cancer isn’t the first pile a shit I’ve dug through. And I just realized it hasn’t been in my inner monolog for the past few weeks, I was really starting to succumb mentally to the physical beating of chemo.

Well I still have to do four more months of treatments, but I start my second half with the same resolve to stay strong that I had when I began my treatments. Now that’s something to sob with joy over!

Chemo Carnival

Step right up, step right up!
16 shots of chemo, for the cost of your existing life! Knock down all the cancer cells, win yourself... well the rest of your life. That's right folks, 16 shots of chemo and you too can live to see another day. 9.8 outta 10 win everytime! You look like a sharp shootin little lady, here's your gun sweetheart, good luck!

seventh-inning stretch

I had a little sob on the front porch this evening with my mother. I feel like I am nearing the end of my emotional & physical strength; like I’m going to run out of chemo-steam before the chemo-train is done takin me for a ride. I’m not there yet, but I feel it coming. It’s like every fiber of my being is screaming at me “what are you doing… you remember how awful it was 2 weeks ago, don’t go back… listen Tam, I really think this chemo thing is designed to kill us… you’re crazy to keep letting them do this to you!”

Every other week as I near chemo day my fight or flight response starts to whisper “you can’t win this one, just sit this one out, remember how it knocked us out last time; please don’t do it to us again”. That Tuesday morning I have a self preservation siren that is screaming code red in my head telling me to abort the mission as I drive to the hospital. How long can someone ignore themselves in the best interests of themselves?

Paragraph one “you’re crazy to keep letting them do this to you!” After puke treatment 5 I decided I needed to disengage myself during chemo visits in order not to become overwhelmed by the process of putting in the needle, receiving the drugs and really just acknowledging that I was there and that was happening, because sights and sounds of the hospital were making me physically sick. Did Pavlov’s dog barf at the sound of the saline drip? Somehow I’ve trained myself to; so I disengage, pretend I’m not there and block out what’s going on around me. The problem I’m now having with that is a feeling like this is being done to me, and it perpetuates the reality that I am not in control of this, and I can’t stop it. (Cancer or treatment)

In the beginning I felt in control, I was a willing participant; I’m no longer willing and as much as I hate the word, I feel like I’m being molested every 2 weeks. Every 2 weeks I don’t want to drive there, I don’t want the needles, I don’t want the drugs, I don’t want to sit there for 3 hours while it burns up my arms. So I close my eyes and try to will myself to sleep or pretend I’m asleep and that I don’t feel the chemo or hear other peoples cancer conversations, and I walk out feeling (well sick and disoriented) but also wronged… like it was wrong of them to that to me because I’m not willing.

So I’m emotionally stuck. In the beginning I felt like had a choice, and the choice was to embrace the treatment in a calm rational manner. I mentally can control my outlook and chose to make the experiences positive. Except now I’m like a dog that’s been kicked to many times for wagging it’s tail and my body is taking over and declaring my mind unfit, because it’s evident to my body that we (I) need to be in panic mode and stop wagging my tail at it. “I’m being attacked, panic, panic”. Yet if I choose to shut it all out and endure, my self preservation siren still goes off screaming “how can you let them do this to you emotionally, and by the way it is still happening physically!”

Mind and body don’t want to do it regardless of whether I embrace it, acknowledge it or ignore it and pretend… there’s no foolin me. If only I was schizophrenic, then only one of me would have to go through this. The rest of me could just carry on “la de da”, although it would be hard to explain the hair loss to the other me’s.

Outer beauty's not home right now, it's just me and MacGyver...

My eyebrows and eyelashes are thinning now along with what’s left of my hair. I hate what I look like in the morning. Some nights I go to bed sad that I’m alone in this, but I always wake up thankful that no man has to see this. But then my thought circles round again; if I were loved they would find me beautiful anyways and I would have someone to go to bed with. Hummm…

I do think inner beauty goes a long way, and that I do poses enough of it in the absence of my outer attributes to get me by. It just takes as much effort to invoke it on a daily basis as it does to paint on outer beauty. I’ve never had to call on it so much before; my inner beauty was a bonus, an “on top” of my outer beauty. I’m habitually described as “tall, gorgeous “and secondly,” funny or cool” by them to their buddies. Now I don’t know what they say, and that makes me nervous. I’ve always had a clear idea of my sexual appeal, and am learning how much I valued and needed it as part of my identity when dealing with… well everyone, not just men. Outer beauty was a tool I used to lure them in. People don’t see inner beauty in brief encounters, they see bald chick.

In someone’s day of dealing with the public, at the end of the day they can usually only recall 2 or 3 people that stand out in there mind; the rest are a blur of nobodies. I’m sure I was always one of those 2 or 3 and took pride in standing out in someone’s mind. Id hate to be part of the blur, the nobodies, to not register on their radar or worse yet register as something odd in their day.

More acceptance, patience and confidence is required for this note. Ha, acceptance… I was cleaning out the bathroom this morning and I can’t get rid of my hair elastics or clips! I’ve got a brush cut now, but who knows when those might come in handy? Maybe a friend will stop by with a hair emergency or Ill get trapped in the bathroom in a life or death situation and have to MacGyver myself out with a barrette and scrunchy. Yes, these are all very good reason to hang these things…. If I cannot master acceptance, patience and confidence today, then I will work on my ingenuity and MacGyver skills.

Observations on Losing Hair

Here's a few observations being 4 weeks into it you won’t read in any book:

- When it starts to go, it goes fast! I couldn't cut it all off without proof that it was going to fall out. The nurses warned me that it would go quickly, and it may be traumatic if I didn't bite the bullet and cut it before then - I didn't listen. It fell out for about 2 weeks before I cut it; that was about 1 week too long! If you are a "freaker outer" cut it on the 4th or 5th day your follicles start jumping ship. You'll have enough proof that they're mutinying without having to watch the ship sink.

- Don't shave your head completely. Get a hair dresser to cut it into some kind of pixie cut first keeping length on top or around your face because you may not go bald for awhile or at all. Short cuts can do thinning hair, I've rocked it for about 3 weeks and just went shorter last week... and now it seems to have stopped falling out. yay!

- Nothing screams cancer patient like a scarf or turban on a young chick; just live your truth or wig out.

- Wear bigger earrings and more eye make-up, you wont look over done. I've had to kick it up a notch and sport my evening looks during the day. In photo's coming back to me I found I looked really pale and naked with such little hair to draw attention to my face. I started using my former hair-styling time in the morning to Tammy-Faye the eyes and I look alive again.

- My armpit hair has stopped growing - yay:) Don't ask about the bikini... why god!?

- You may look like a stereotypical lesbian, a really cute lesbian, but one none the less. Here I was all worried no one would hit on me at the bars anymore:) If you're not gay, thank the ladies and what the heck, let them buy you a drink! Years from now you and your loved ones can fondly refer back this time as that year you were "experimenting" (with the hair lol), rather than that time you had Hodgkin's!

Canada Day - Pity Party - BYOP (Peanutbutter)

I seem to be writing this a lot lately:
“I just realized I didn’t send you a note back when you wrote me last week… duh! I am having a really rough time with the memory these days; I hear “they” call it chemo brain. Passing thoughts get filled into the “done & sent” pile before I get a chance to do them. (I think I’m getting way more done than I actually am – good for the ego, bad for production. Lol)”

Just came back from chemo, feel yucky this time. Most times I tolerate the drugs going in well and then in 48 hours I start to feel queasy, this time that feeling started the moment I was hooked up. Bourns! I’m not really a “I’m gonna puke kinda girl” (Id like to think its years of Jägermeister shots at the bar that have conditioned my stomach for chemo… I knew all that drinking would come in handy!) so when I say I’m nauseous , I mean it’s an overall off feeling that makes me feel icky and sometimes have a bad taste in my mouth. You know that feeling “after” a night of drinking and puking - minus the drinking and puking – that’s what I get. Although I really do think they should serve me a real cocktail with my chemo cocktail just to make it all better!

Had to pass up Canada Day plans, which are too bad as I think this is the first C-Day that it hasn’t rained in 5 years. I would have liked to be downtown today to see the buskers and fireworks on Parliament Hill tonight. So I’m trying to catch up on my notes listening to Jamiroquai on the itunes. (I can’t believe it’s been over 10 years since this album, Travelling Without Moving – 1996, came out!) (I can’t believe I’m not 16 anymore!!!) That’s it I’m hitting the 90’s dance mix next!

I’m feeling much better than I was last night mood wise. I was just furious at my mother last night when I learned from a friend that she has continued to send out “tam updates” to my friends and family. I knew that two months ago when I was in the hospital she was keeping everybody up to date, but I thought that had stopped once I got out. The when I went to send out photos and an update from my Martini’s for Hodgkin’s event I learned that she had beat me to it. Way to steal my thunder!

I have so few things in life right now that keep me busy and in communication with my world, that I feel like she was taking that outlet away from me because she needed something to keep her busy. We talked about it after the party and she seemed to understand about not sending out my big news but I guess had continued on with bi-weekly updates. Fast forward one month and I’m sitting here wondering why my friends and family out of town haven’t contacted me in months to see how I’m doing? I only learned about it last night when I sent out an update to a friend and she replied that she knew all about my current med’s and status thanks to Mum’s updates, and what else was new? Well shit – nothing! My new job day in and day out is taking care of me; some days it’s all I have to talk about.

It’s hard moving back home when it’s not on your terms, my cancer is very unreasonable. I’ve had to take a leave of absence from work, stop consulting independently too, have giant needles stabbed into my chest (biopsies) and back (bone marrow), have an oh-so unpleasant heart and lung draining, no one ever gives me anesthesia!, pack up my whole life into a storage unit and move me and my shoes back home (shoes – couldn’t afford a big enough storage unit. Lol) I’m back into my old bedroom recreated next door to my “very different from me sister” who answers most “questuccusations” with “whatever Tam” and the whole family eats different peanut butter than I do… grumble.

It’s hard to want/ accept help from people who eat gross peanut butter (ha!), even when you need it. It’s like sending someone to the store for PB and they come back with chunky… even there best efforts piss you off sometimes. Or maybe the chunky/ smooth debate is old news that went away when you moved out on your own, but now you’re back and their chunky peanut butter is hard to swallow some days.

the healing touch?

I went to see a man who does healing touch with a girlfriend tonight. I am sure he received a great deal of healing from the parts he was touching, me… not so much. Just as I suspected, someone who prays on the weak as regulars, but mostly makes a living off one shot curious George’s like me.

We drove out to a house in Gatineau and walked right in and sat in the living room until we were seen. I went first into a room and lay on the table and the man (I can’t even remember his name?) just started putting his hands on my stomach, under my breasts and near my pelvis and meditated. (so much for buying me dinner first!)

He did this for about 4 minutes without word and then left the room, for an hour. For an hour!!! For the first 10 minutes I lay there and gazed out the window. The next 10 minutes I started to get irritated, and the next 10 minutes I wondered if I should be meditating, then the next 10 minutes I listened to him go to the bathroom and head to the basement to start up the washing machine. For the next 10 minutes I was irritated again, and then the last 10 minutes I just started text messaging people… did I not get it?

When he finally came back he was surprised that I had not fallen asleep. I resisted the urge to let him know I do that in my own home… for free, but I tried to keep an open mind: ) He then placed his hands in the same locations and told me there was a great deal of tension in my left breast… not my “chest” my “breast” and it was channeling down to the right side of my pelvis. (I guess he missed the giant cancerous sweet potato size mass (6"x6"x2") lying behind my right breast? Although I get why he's drawn... I've always thought the left one was cuter - perkier:) It was important that I realign it through the center of the body because the charkas run from my pelvis to breasts. (I seem to recall them running to my head, but okay?)

He then described to me that there was a charka in my labia, that’s the part between the vagina and anus that needs to be grounded. He actually used the words “labia”, “vagina”, “anus”, “breasts” and “nipple” (I haven’t told you that part yet) in the combined total of 9 minutes he was with me. Our session ended with him telling me to put my left hand on my left breast, making sure the nipple was in my palm, and my right hand on my pelvis for 10 minutes a day to realign and redirect my energy.

Where I come from we call that masturbation. It doesn’t happen every day, it does realign a few things, I didn’t need to pay you $30 bucks to tell me that… and I can do it in 4 minutes!

Coping with Cancer for $13 dollars please.

Today I went to my first cancer class, Coping with Cancer through the Cancer Clinic at the General; 2 hours and my parking ticket was $13 bucks! Thank god I consumed 9 timbits during the course, almost got my moneys worth. Three other people showed up to watch a power point presentation, “so you’ve got cancer” followed with a meditation video; original, innovative – thanks, do you validate parking?

I don’t know if I am going to like going to generalized cancer groups because it seems to me that other cancers are yucky! One lady had thyroid cancer and was looking bald, pasty and toothless. (well she may have been toothless before, but jeez cancers done nothing for her!) The other woman had throat cancer, was bi-polar and was itching for a smoke break. I learned something about myself sitting next to her; I’m not real receptive to people who a) gave themselves cancer and b) are continuing to give them selves cancer while sucking up services we all paid into. She was nice enough for the first half of the course, but then I think the voices in her head told her to quiet down for the rest of it.

During the meditation video when I was meditating, I made a shopping list for Friday and convinced myself that I really needed a massage. I drove back to the west-end was able to get a walk-in relaxation massage with hot stones at “The Spa”; nice! I started a yoga class yesterday that did help my sciatic nerve, but messed up my shoulder. The girl was rubbing my neck with oil and went a little over my hair line and stepped back with a “oh” and I had to explain to her that her furry fingers were a result of my hair falling out from chemo, and it was best to avoid my lid with sticky fingers. I’m on hair preserve.

The cat and I attempted a nap this afternoon, but the phone wouldn’t quit. The irritation on his little furry face is priceless, especially when he rounds on me like it’s my fault! So I had a 15min cat nap and then was off to learn how to give myself a needle. The nurse said I needed to pick a fat spot to poke, I offered up the booty but she said my belly was just fine – ouch! (note to self, lay off the baby cookies… I just said that with a mouth full of baby cookie!)

The needle was for Neupogen; (sounds like the name of some Asian dude) it’s a drug that will help me grow white blood cells faster. Apparently people with other types of cancer receiving chemo usually have their treatments about 3 weeks apart which gives their bone marrow enough time to grow enough white blood cells back before they knock them out with chemo again. When you have Hodgkin’s its common to have difficulty growing enough white cells back in time for the next round because they are 2 weeks apart. So 1 week after each chemo session I will have to inject myself daily for 5 days with Neupogen to get those cells a’multiplyin… like little white rabbits.

I teared up a little after I gave myself the shot in the nurse’s office (well after I got the balls to do it after three psyches.) Not because it hurt at all, it was because it was another little “real” moment. This is real, it’s really happening; people who are healthy don’t inject needles into their belly.

Thanks for coming out to Martini's for Hodgkin's

My thank you letter to all who came out to support & donate:

Oh what a night… I’ve left the bar many times without the things I came with, hats, shoes, boyfriends; but never my hair!

Big thanks to everyone that came out Thursday for Martini’s for Hodgkin’s at Bar 56. The evening was a huge success in raising funds for The Lymphoma Foundation of Canada in support of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma research.

My thanks to all my friends that donated gift baskets & gift certificates through their corporations in support of the event, I knew I could count on you guys to help! Congratulations to all those that won gift baskets and gift certificates. (Robyn I’m especially excited for you and your SAAB gift certificate, as a new mom you deserve it!)

I had a blast! It was a little hard for me to stop and chat with all of you for as long as I would have liked to, but just note I was so pleased that each and every one of you came out to support me and my event. And boy did I need it; it was tough parting with all that red hair… which has provided me with a fabulous opportunity to see all the silver roots that are underneath. Errr!

Actually it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be to cut off all my hair because I had all my friends cheering me on, and I was able to donate that ponytail to Locks of Love, and organization that makes wigs for kids going through the same deal.

One of the things I forgot to mention in my impromptu address to the crowd was why it was so important for me to host this event. Empathy. During my process of being diagnosed with Hodgkin’s leading up to treatment I have had to undergo some difficult procedures and surgeries, and each time the doctors would say to me “don’t worry you’re so lucky, you’re young, strong and healthy; you can endure this.” And I would/ am enduring, but I think about how horrible it would be for a 5 year old or a 75 year old to endure say something like my bone marrow collection (drill into the hip bone) and am just overwhelmed with empathy for others who may not be as young, strong, or healthy as I am, yet have to endure none the less; and so I needed to do something.

So together we were able to raise funds to help others endure Lymphoma and all its pleasantries, but if they’re really lucky they have great friends like I do who support them and that’s the most important help anyone can get.

Thanks again for coming out to show your support.
Tam

I want my Ms. Bigglesworth!

It seems perfectly reasonable to me that if you are losing your hair to chemo, than you should be blessed with hair loss all over. The gods should give you a break from bikini waxes and say “one hairless cat coming right up; this ones on us!” They did not, I’m still on kitty maintenance and I am one sour puss!

Second Chemo, hair is really falling out!

Martini’s for Hodgkin’s Invitation

“Let’s have a drink, support Lymphoma research, and what the heck… let’s cut my hair off too!"

My ongoing experience with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma has put me in a position where I feel I need to give back and help others with similar experiences, with my usual flair, and a martini of course!

On Thursday June 12th at 7:00pm, Id like to personally invite you and everyone on your friends list to join me for “Martini’s for Hodgkin’s” at The Collection downtown for an evening of fundraising evening in support of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma research with a bonus donation to Locks of Love.

This entertaining evening will consist of drinks, dancing, games and prizes leading up to the highlight of the evening; chopping of my hair! That’s right, the hair is coming off, one-way or another! I have a short period of time before my hair really starts to fall out (from chemotherapy) which presents me with the opportunity to cut 16” of red hair off and donate it to Locks of Love, an organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children.

Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is cancer that affects the Lymphatic system. It’s a disease that can sneak up on you with very few symptoms, meaning the treatment if often harder to deal with than the disease. Many Lymphoma patients undergo painful procedures like biopsies and bone marrow collection to diagnose the disease, and than undergo months of aggressive chemotherapy (and often radiation) treatment in which they deal with losing all their hair, constant sickness or infections, stem cell transplants, and possible long term affects like infertility. And that’s just the treatment!

The key to making this event work is that you actually come out, and you encourage your friends to come too. It’s not about how much you donate; it’s about supporting the cause, and well… me! I’m more afraid of losing my hair than battling cancer, (female priorities!) but I’m doing my best to go through this process with dignity and my signature “fuck it attitude” that only my friends and family’s encouragement can feed.

There have been so many times where a cause or illness has come close to my heart through a friend and I’ve felt powerless to help; I wish there had been an event like this! Taking the time to come out, show your support, and donate to Lymphoma research will not only direct funds towards better treatments and support programs, it will also make you feel great for really and truly helping.

Remember to bring some cash, your friends, your dancing shoes, your camera (how often do I cut off all my hair!) and a designated driver… as I fully expect you to have “a little too much fun”!!! Please make sure you rsvp the event as soon as you receive this, and forward this invitation.

Looking forward to having a couple of martinis with you and my buddy Hodgkin’s!

http://www.lymphoma.ca/
http://www.locksoflove.org/,
http://www.ottawaentertainment.ca/nightclubs/collectionbar56.asp

Neutropenia saved the day! No chemo today!

Heavy Lashes

My hair started to fall out today, so I put on more mascara. Well I sprouted a few tears first and then decided I wasn’t going to waste anymore precious hair time hiding in-doors. I need to get out there and work the lid I’ve still got while I’ve got it.

I curled my tarantula lashes and headed out the door committed to not cry about this today, mostly because there would be a mudslide of mascara down my face.

Some clients don't care if you're in the hospital... and your family can still find you!

Stool Watching

I’m doing a lot of peeking between my legs to see what’s goin on the toilet bowl these days… ugh! I guess last week when I was in the hospital and the doctor on call was asking me the usual admittance questions (or what I call the – think I would’a mentioned it questions) like are you coughing up blood, can you feel your extremities, any anal leakage etc… she was very specific on one question. She asked if my stool was black, I said “no” but in truth I hadn’t looked; and she replied “oh that’s good, but if it goes black you let somebody know” very sincerely.

So I’ve been on a black stool watch. I don’t really know why, or what the significance of black poop might mean, but hell if it was important to her, it’s important to me.

The problem is, I’m a decorator… who specializes in colour theory; and I think I may be over analyzing my poop. She didn’t say what shade of black. Anyone who knows anything about colour knows that black has many different undertones, and that colour is affected by light perception. What if the poop is black, but the soft lighting in my bathroom casts it as more of a brown? You can see my dilemma… thank god my schedule affords me time to ponder this.

For now I will stick with nope, and take oh so much pride in the fact that I’ve found an exercise that really challenges my skills as a colour consultant even in my absence from work. Op… gotta go…

Big News:

Hey Folks,

Thought I’d send out a big note with some news to my friends. Some of you are closer than others, so please don’t be offended by the mass email, rather all of you should interpret it as a “I care enough to make a point to tell you” and I’m just too tired to try and contact you all individually.

I’ve quietly been having some health problems for awhile that finally lead to a diagnosis this month of Lymphoma. For those of you that don’t know what that is; Lymphoma is a cancer of the Lymphatic system. There are many types of Lymphoma; mine is called Hodgkin’s.

I thought it important to tell you guys because there are going to be lots of changes that will elicit questions. For example: I’m moving from my home in Bells Corners back to my parents in Kanata; so they can take care of me during my treatment… so change of address. Treatment: gotta have chemotherapy and maybe radiation which means I may look different if the red hair goes… and god willing that extra 25 pounds! I’ve also taken a sick leave from Norwalk, and will not be accepting independent client work for awhile.

Somethings are going to stay the same… like my phone number/ email and my ability to reply to them. I will also continue to be a sarcastic pervert, perhaps even more now that I have to compensate for my “temporary” inability to be a drunken slut (no booze allowed)… but I’m not packing away the tit shirts just yet.

What you should do & not do:
You can ask me anything… I too want to know if my pubic hair will also fall out during chemo. lol But I don’t need to hear your “Uncle Larry beat cancer stories”. No ones gonna die here so I don’t need to be compared to Uncle Larry’s colon cancer. Although I completely respect that practically everyone has had contact with cancer in their lives (sad but true these days) and that leaves different impressions on us… just don’t push your impressions on me. I’m quite positive and focused on my recovery.

Hummm… what else? Feeling a little better these days, but still in the hospital for the moment. I know a lot of you are thinking when was she sick? The Lymphoma has been growing for a longtime, we think almost 2 years, but I really only started to feel ill about 6 weeks ago. It spiraled down hill quickly from there to the point where I can’t hide the symptoms from others and have had to stay in the hospital due to complications.

I start treatment this week my understanding is that I will get 3 hours of chemo twice a month for 8 months. Doesn’t sound so bad; think Ill spend the 2 weeks in-between those days sun tanning!

I’m sure I’ll have periods where I feel fine, and others where I feel like shit. I’m hoping that you’ll keep me in the loop for events and such and let me pick and chose when I can come out rather than assume I’m laid up dying at home.

Okay, so that’s the big life changing news from me. There are many of you on this email list that I have not been able to keep up with and celebrate your new (happy) events and for that I am very sorry; but I have been thinking about you.

Your welcome to respond, but I suspect many of you will have that “oh shit what do I say moment”. Don’t do it to yourself, just keep in touch as you usually do, or view this as an opportunity for us to get together more now that I’m not working.

Talk to you soon,
Tamara