Your appointment with the oncologist has been cancelled.

So we were on the road again at about 2:30pm, destination Montreal for meetings with the oncologist, radiologist and the geneticists.

About 45 minutes into the ride Pace called her Mom to let her know we wouldn't be there for dinner. From Pace's reaction, I thought that someone close had died.

France, Pace's Mom, said the Ontological Gynecologist's secretary had called 5 minutes earlier and cancelled tomorrow morning's appointment. "You'll need to reschedule, he's out of the country... The next day I can schedule an appointment for you is February 1st at 8:30am.

Let's think about this. This appointment was booked at least six weeks ago and the doctor is "out of the country," and it will take another 3 months to see him. Either his secretary has an inefficient calendaring system or he never checks it.

Pace felt there was no reason to carry on so we turned the car around and headed back into the west to Toronto. Pace was very upset and somewhat discouraged. I was in an angry place and unable to do anything about it.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

vicissitude: a good word for our lives

I came across this word today when reading about what I am cooking up for Christmas. "... but during the visiccitudes of France, it's wars and so forth the recipe was lost."

The definition of "vicissitude": successive, alternating, or changing phases or conditions, as of life or fortune; ups and downs.

It sums up the fact that Pace, the wee one and I are still in for another 6 months of Doctors and operations before this is all over. Life changes states within all of the time: emotionally, spiritually, fiscally and physically.

Just as molecules of water can be vapor, solid or liquid. There's a time to live in different states of stress, excitement or agitation, the key is to maintain control during the transitions between states.

It's the $10 word of the week!

Reflecting on the last 12 months.

I started blogging as a way to keep our friends and family up-to-date with events and information on Pace's progress in her breast cancer battle.

By extension, it became a place to store the flood of information, and tools I've waded through trying to understand this disease and it's treatment, as well as it's physical, emotional and fiscal challenges.

Along the way it become a way to vent the chronic stress linked hand-in-hand with cancer and the weird confluence of events we've experienced.

Pace and I are humbled by the support and the interest in our journey. We are looking forward to the day when we are no longer shadowed by the spectre of breast cancer.

Thanks for your thoughts, prayers and encouragement as we cross the valley of death. However, our journey is not over yet. Our next medical meeting, this time with the Surgeon specializing in Gynecological Cancers is on Nov. 30th.

Where on earth are you visiting this blog from?

I never thought my blog would attracted an audience from every continent except Antarctica but it has. Google Web Analytics created the map below that shows where you, dear readers, are from. My inner geek thinks this is so cool.

If you're concerned about your privacy be assured, it only can tell what city you're from not who you are. Well, Craig I know that's you in Japan, but for the rest of you, it's all assumptions.

Thanks for visiting.

Chronic Stress for Cancer Survivors and Support Providers

By all the indicators we've been living in a state of Chronic Stress for almost 3 years.

For fun I tried a stress test and scored 12 out of 23

It said "if you scored 6 or more: your stress levels could be better. "

It went on to say I need to maintain more balance in my life which requires lifestyle changes. Uh-huh...

Lifestyle changes are more work than momentary on demand stress relievers. Yes I know, 40 minutes a day of exercise definately more work than blending a couple of margaritas or shaking a martini but each has their merits.


Rather than take a stress test for fun take a fun stress test

How I keep a positive attitude

When Teta, one of my colleagues, heard about Gilles death yesterday she asked me how I keep a positive attitude when coping with all these curve balls. I told her it's a combination of logic and creativity.

I've programmed my logical left brain with Newton's third law of physics; for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. All of the adversity we've fought will be counterbalanced by a time of peace.

On the creative right side of my brain I visualize that my glass is half full, of a graceful Pinot Noir, and the bottle is coming around again.

Allez en paix Gilles, Rest in Peace

Pace got the news this morngin that at 63, her dad, Gilles, died at 8:30 on Saturday, November 11 . He'd been fighting throat cancer that had spread to the lungs and brain; for the last month he's been in palative care.

When I told my new contact at my biggest client he asked me "what are you doing here, go home and be with your wife." Thanks Rick. Pace appreciated it.

Pace is taking it well. She finds it ironic that he died of cancer on Remberence Day; a year to the day from her Breast Cancer diagnosis. However, she feels that he took her cancer with him when he went to heaven.

Allez en paix Gilles! May your glass be ever full, May the roof over your head be always strong, And may you be in heaven Half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.

Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

Now for something completely different. This morning we went to the two kids parks on the Belt Line for a couple of hours. About 1:00 in the afternoon we had a nap together, all three of us in the master bed.

I woke up about 3:30 and just lay there for about 15 minutes admiring my "girls" and asking God to bless them. They're so peaceful when they sleep. I'm so happy we're together again.

In case you're wondering why the cover art, one of my favorite Queen songs is Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon.

Allez Home!

The wee one has been telling everyone at la maison in Oka "Je veux allez home!" (I want to go Home; and home being Toronto), If you've been reading this for a while you know about her insisting that she was going Home with Papa on the train and the tearful departures on the train platform when she couldn't.

Today she got what she wanted.

We packed the car and got on the road at about 4:00. After stopping to day a couple of "aurevoirs"(not goodbye, until next time) we caught one of the last ferries of the season are running that cross the Ottawa River from Oka to Hudson.

It poured rain from Oka to Toronto. Fortunately truck traffic was light and road spray to a minimum. Luckily for Pace and I the wee one slept most of the way and we had a chance to talk.

Once we finally got in about 10:30 the wee one charged about gathering toys and dolls she had not played with in a couple of months. It was another couple of hours before the wee one had calmed down enough to sleep.

Pace and I were so exhausted I can't remember if we kissed goodnight.

The Zoladex is not working, Blame it on Bob!

So Pace had a conversation with the oncology nurses about the Zoladex not doing it's job and the "blame it on Bob" conversation went like this.

"Your husband did the injection?!" Asked the nurse.
"Yes" Pace replied.
"Well he wouldn't know how to do it properly. Did it hurt?"
"Oh yeah, it hurt." Pace grimaced at the thought of the heavy gage needle.
"Well you're supposed to use a catheter to administer it."
"No one told us that."
"He never should have done it."
"But, he..." Pace started but was interrupted.
"Did he not use the local anesthetic before he injected you?" The nurse inquired.
"There was no local anesthetic prescribed or with the package."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"You should have taken the needle to the CLSC (local community health clinic) or the hospital and they should have done it."
"What? No one told us that."
"Didn't the doctor tell you?"
"No."
"Well you know how busy doctors get. Make sure you get it done by a professional next time and if the Zoladex still doesn't work we'll have to change prescriptions."

I'm angry for a couple of reasons.

1. The insinuation that I don't know what I'm doing. I had 2 years of practice administering insulin by injection. Albeit it was caninsulin and the subject was Pace's cat Olive, but they were daily sub-cutaneous injections. And I followed the instructions on Pace's package to the letter.
   
2. Because of the cost of Zoladex, the hospital won't administer it there, so they transfer the cost to the patient by writing a prescription for you to take home. Better be insured! Then they say that it only should be administered in a government regulated health facility.

From a left brain perspective, this kind of logic loop crashes software programs.

My right brain says the situation reminds me of the bureaucracy demonstrated in the movie Brazil; this is reality imitating art.

Rememberence Day to All Saints Day

It's been 355 days from the diagnosis to the last radiotherapy treatment and finishing the cancer triathlon.

It's ironic that both days are for remberence. It's not likely we'll forget this endurance race.

So we wind down for a bit and then get ready for the oophorectomy or hysterectomy in February, probably the 14th. Who knows what the doctor will suggest?

Some people say she'll not need it so just get it all out. However, the thought of me losing my testes, and how that would impact my health, is reason to pause before I go spouting off at the mouth about how Pace should handle her situation. Then again she does read this too.

Felicitations Pace! You're Wonder Woman, an Amazon!

Love you Robert "Kent" G.