healing

Well it's not been linear but I definitely am healing well.

The drugs have made it hard to concentrate and type but things are progressing well. Today is the first day that my fingers and my brain seem to move more in concert.

And now I have treatment tomorrow.

So please don't worry if I don't blog. I'm doing fine - and expect to get back into regular writing next week.

Thanks so much for all the love and support from near and far.

It means more than I can say.

writing your way through breast cancer

It's been two days since chemo, so I feel lousy and have the attention span of a gnat.

It works out well for me, therefore, that I have something I've been meaning to share with you all for a while now.

I really like the Philadelphia based organization Living Beyond Breast Cancer. I've been fortunate enough to attend two of their own conferences (one called "News You Can Use" and one specifically for women living with metastasis) and the Annual Conference For Young Women Affected By Breast Cancer, which they co-sponsor (last year's was in Dallas and I'm applying for a grant, in the hopes of being able to attend in Atlanta this year. It will be the 10 year anniversary of the conference).

A little while ago, LBBC contacted me to see if I would be willing to be interviewed for their Winter 2009/2010 newsletter about "writing your way through breast cancer." I didn't hesitate, as this is a subject about which I am passionate.

You can read the interview on their web site. I am also please to not that they have listed "Not Done Yet" under the heading "Creative Coping: 10 Publications To Motivate You."

but i have an excuse (actually i have a few)

I bailed on National Novel Writing Month on the first day, having written just under 700 words.

I felt like there were too many other interesting bits of writing that I wanted to do, including continuing to edit last year's novel.

And then my life became insane. I've been really hard on myself for all the things I'm not doing lately. This week, though, I've had two people who are very important to me (my coach/therapist and my friend DM) listen to me unload and then tell me that I would have every right to feel overwhelmed with a fraction of what I've got on my plate.

I tend to be hard on myself because I don't work outside the home right now. If I don't go to a job I feel like I should just sail through my other commitments. It felt really good to list everything going on in my life and have two women I respect offer support and sympathy. I've decided that I need to cut myself a lot more slack.

I can do NaNoWriMo next year. I'm OK with that. But I did feel a pang when my son sent me this video:



NaNoWriMo was a fun kind of crazy. I just couldn't let the rest of my life go to do it this year.

Canada Reads 2012

The top five Canada Reads 2012 books were revealed yesterday, as well as the five Canadians who will advocate on their behalf.

Despite my frustrations with how things went down last year and my initial resistance to an all non-fiction Canada Reads, I'm excited. 

The books look interesting and their defenders seem passionate. And almost as diverse as Canadians can be.

I really enjoyed reading last year's book choices. It was the actual debates that set my teeth on edge. If I had been one of the authors of last year's books, I would have been very disappointed in the quality of discussion (except for Sara Quin defending Essex County - she was wonderful). The conversations were generally at the level of a school yard taunts ("Oh yeah! Well I'm going to vote against your book because you didn't like mine!" "I didn't even finish reading your book but I'm going to tear it down anyway!"). There was so little discussion about the actual content of any of the books. How is it that the Canada Reads debates made me less interested in novels I had already read and enjoyed?

But that was last year.

The best part of Canada Reads in any year is reading the books. It's also the biggest commitment. And I've decided to do it.

Will you join me?

The books chosen for 2012 are:

The Game by Ken Dryden (defended by Allan Thicke)

On a Cold Road by Dave Bidini (defended by Stacey McKenzie)

Prisoner of Tehran by Marina Nemat (defended by Arlene Dickenson)

Something Fierce by Carmen Aguirre (defended by Shad)

The Tiger by John Vaillant (defended by Anne-France Goldwater)

off the top of my head and maybe out of my mind

Last spring, I shared a bit of tabloid inspired writing about a mother who is revolted by her own child that I'd done as homework for a class I was taking. A few days after I wrote that piece, we did an in class excercise, starting with the prompt, "It was a strange creature and it was looking right at me." How could I not be reminded of my bat boy? I wrote this by hand and in ten minutes but I think it's kind of fun.

I love the inspiration and motivation that comes from being part of a writing group. I miss it.

It was a strange creature and it was looking right at me. Someone had called to say they'd seen a strange looking man hanging out by Berit's Cave. No one thought much of it, until some smart young deputy mentioned the report that had crossed my desk the day before. The missing boy from up North. He'd stolen a car and not been heard from since. The thing was that the car was expensive but that was not what had folks all riled up. What really mattered was what had been inside the trunk of the car – a brief case full of cash. The had likely not known the bonus he was acquiring when he stole that car but he had stolen it and the folks in Maryland were very keen to get it back. And they'd said the boy was odd-looking, too.

Odd-looking. Funny-looking. Those expressions did not do justice to the creature that stood before me. At first glance, I thought I was seeing a monster. When rational thought returned, I saw that I was looking at a young man – a boy really – whose features looked disconcertingly like those of a bat. He had pointy ears, tiny eyes, a pushed in nose and his teeth – I saw them when he opened his mouth to yell at me – were small and sharp, as though the owner had filed them to a point. Not to put too fine a point on it, the kid was hideous.

I started to ask who he was and about the stolen car when he charged at me, head lowered like a battering ram. He wasn't very big but the attack and the accompanying ear splitting scream caught me by surprise. Before I could react, I had fallen ass over tea kettle and the boy was on the run. It took a second to regain my composure – was it only a second? Before I called for back up. I told 'em to send for the young deputy – I hoped his feet would be as fast as his mouth.

I didn't want to chase the boy. It wasn't really my bad leg – the excuse I gave to my sheriff. The fact was, the boy had really freaked me out. It wasn't just that he was ugly – although he was that – but it was the eyes that had scared me the most. There was no soul there. When I looked at him, all I saw was emptiness reflected back at me.

I wish I'd thought of sharing this on Hallowe'en. I wonder if there's more writing my bat boy can inspire.

first one, then the other

My older son went back to school this morning. I did a little happy dance in the hall after he left. It's not that I mind having him around but the kid has to go back out into the world some time, you know?

And then of course, my six year old woke up with a sore throat. He really doesn't seem too sick to me (he had the first part of the H1N1 shot last week) but these days, I prefer to err on the side of caution (we are relieved that there is no coughing, as D. has asthma and things can get scary pretty quickly).

We've been hanging out in our pajamas on the couch. I don't know if this will help me reach my deadlines (or my NaNoWriMo goal) but it's pretty sweet.

back at it

I've decided to participate in National Blog Posting Month (or NaBloPoMo) this year, after a two year hiatus (in 2009 I did NaNoWriMo instead and last year, I just didn't feel like it). Let's hope it brings inspiration and a renewed commitment to regular writing.

I'll be accepting suggestions for blogging topics. If previous years are any indication, expect this month's content to be pretty eclectic.

embracing Frivolity (a new project)

I'm so happy to announce the birth of the Frivolity project! You can find us over at getfrivolous.com. 

Here's an excerpt of my perspective on  "Why Frivolity?"

A couple of years ago someone wrote a review of my book that really pissed me off. The reviewer took me to task for seeking and finding pleasure in things irrelevant and frivolous (I’m shamelessly paraphrasing here). I threw the review across the room, where it sat for several weeks (Those of you who know me will will understand that this is literally true. Housekeeping is not one of my strengths). 

Then I got to thinking about why it’s actually OK to be caught seeking fun and happiness. We all have lists of things we’d like to do “some day”. We write them down in notebooks, scribble them on napkins (or is that only in the movies?) or keep them locked away inside our brains. That’s certainly what I did – until I was faced with a life threatening illness and was suddenly very motivated to make “some day” happen “right now.” 

From spending the day at the art gallery to writing a draft of a novel to getting my first tattoo, I began to ask myself “Why not now?” 

This new blog and podcast are all about finding ways that Andrea (my co-conspirator) and I, and any of you who want to play along, can embrace the frivolous, take risks and have fun. In my opinion, the world could use a little more frivolity.

Come listen, watch, look, read and share. Send us your ideas, responses, images and stories. Join us in our Frivolity!

just under the wire

It's the very last day of "breast cancer awareness" month and I have a post up at Mom 2.0 Summit, "Pinkwashing won't cure breast cancer":

"I care about bringing an end to breast cancer. As someone who has lived with the illness since first being diagnosed in 2006, I care very much. However, I don’t think buying fried chicken in a pink bucket or a pink screwdriver is going to change very much at all."

I also wrote a post for BlogHer for Metastatic Breast CancerAwareness Day, "I'm sick of cancer but it won't be a good day when my treatment stops":

“Women with metastatic breast cancer never really fit in with others in the breast cancer community. To those who finish treatment, embrace the word “survivor," talk about “winning their battle" and never looking back, we represent the worst that can happen. Who wouldn't want to believe that if you stay strong through treatment, stay positive and do everything right, you will get to leave cancer behind?”

I hate pink ribbons and pinktober for a whole host of reasons that I realize I can now rattle off in a two minute rant. Ask me some time. It could be my new party trick.

what i would miss

I just did an interesting writing prompt from Old Friend From Far Away by Natalie Goldberg:

"Tell me what you will miss when you die."

The instructions were to write for ten minutes without censoring yourself. Here's what I wrote:

My kids

My spouse

My family

My friends

My dog

Beautiful fall days

Walks along the canal with my dog

Getting lost in a book

Taking a nap on a cold afternoon

Knitting with friends

The feeling of euphoria when I write something good

Music

Good food

Laughing

Wondering at art

A hot bath after exercise

Physical intimacy (all kinds)

The happy feeling when I unexpectedly run into someone I like

Learning new things

Aha! moments

Seeing people do good things

Being proud of my children

Noisy gatherings around my dining room table

Doing fun things for the first time

Doing familiar things that make me happy

Connecting creatively or intellectually

Making new friends

Having old friends and family members who 'get' me

Scrabble

Fresh starts

Clean sheets

Small kindnesses

Spectacular acts of bravery

Feeling proud of myself

The way the pavement smells after a summer rain

The possibility of tomorrow

What about you?

beautiful night

Thanks to everyone who came to the Toronto launch last night.

My face hurts from smiling and my heart is so full it could burst.

And the bookstore sold out the books.

advice (with the benefit of hindsight)

Last week, the Centretown Buzz (an Ottawa community paper) asked me to write the article that "I wish I could have read when I was first diagnosed."



It's on the front page of this week's issue, and begins like this:

On December 1^st, 2005, I found a lump in my breast, as I was getting undressed. One month later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 38 years old, with two young kids and a very hectic life. I felt completely blind-sided.

Almost four years later, and with the benefit of hindsight, I share some advice for others who find themselves in my situation.

As I looked back on the last few years, the following key points best summarize my advice:

Bring someone with you to appointments, especially in the beginning.

Be your own advocate.

Be nice to the admin staff and nurses.

Don’t compare yourself to anyone else.

Let others help you.

Never give up hope.

The entire article is online, so you can read it for yourself.



Let me know what you think. And if you've been there, please don't hesitate to share some of your hard-earned experience.

omg

have you read "Not Done Yet"?

Have you read this book yet?

I think I have all the remaining copies of Not Done Yet : Living Through Breast Cancer in my attic. I'm selling them for $25 (tax included) plus shipping. 

I'm told it's a pretty good book. You should read it. Or give it to someone you love.

will you be there?

Just a reminder to anyone who lives in Toronto or anywhere nearby or who would like to visit Toronto that my book party (postponed in June because of the flu) has been re-scheduled for October 22, from 7-9 pm.

I have been washing my hands lots and lots so that this overdue celebration can happen.


Also, I have been getting lots of interesting comments and messages in answer to my post on internet community. It's not too late to jump into the discussion.

nothing ventured...

I have decided that I won't be doing NaBloPoMo this year.

My heart just isn't in it. This is in part because two of my NaBlo compadres have died. It just won't be the same without Sara and Emily. I miss their voices so much and I just don't feel like blogging every day without them at my virtual side.

But November can be a hard month for me and I still need something to distract and consume me.

I also need motivation to return to the scary (for me) world of fiction writing. I got so much done during my online writing course last year but have done nothing since submitting my outline for a novel, as my final assignment on December 31.

A few weeks ago Rachael suggested to Zoom that she try NaNoWriMo. And that got me thinking. If structure is what I need and my inner critic is my worst enemy then what better solution than to crank out 50,000 words in 30 days?

They don't even have to be good words (what matters with Nano is quantity over quality).
And before I know it, November will be over and I will have a whole bunch of words on paper.

Sounds like fun, right? Right?

S. is joining me, as part of the NaNo Young Writers' Program. I'm very pleased.

letter of the day

Yesterday, CBC Radio's Q featured an interview with Samantha King, author of Pink Ribbons Inc.

At the end of the interview, listeners asked the following questions (they were also posted to the Q blog): What are your impressions of cancer fundraising and awareness efforts? Are they working? Do you find any aspect of them troubling?

My sister-in-law, B. alerted me to the interview (she listens on the east coast schedule) and encouraged me to write a letter in response. This morning, a slightly edited version of this letter was read on the air (I was the "Letter of the Day"):

In January 2006, when I was 38 years old an the mother of two young children, I was diagnosed with very aggressive breast cancer. I underwent a brutal treatment regimen only to learn in November of that same year that the cancer had spread to my liver. I was told that I had “years, not decades” to live.

I resumed treatment and, this time, my response was immediate and dramatic – by June 2007, there was no longer any sign of cancer in my body. As I write this, I am still in remission. I'm also still in treatment, as we don't know enough about what happens when metastatic breast cancer disappears to make an informed decision about stopping.

I know without a doubt that I am alive today because of the kind of cutting edge research funded by breast cancer organizations. I also know that thousands of women who've been through breast cancer live better lives because of the kind of advocacy and outreach work that is undertaken by non-profit organizations.

But I do cringe, seethe and yes, even rant every time October comes around and we are deluged with pink products from fried chicken to face cream to key chains.

In theory, I'm not opposed to corporate sponsorship. But in the same way that I think cigarette companies should not be permitted to sponsor children's festivals, I'm offended when companies that sell products that are unhealthy, bad for the environment and laden with carcinogens jump on the “pinxploitation” bandwagon. At best, these campaigns do little to eradicate breast cancer and worst, they are a cynical attempt to grab some good PR and increase profit margins at the expense of anyone who's life has been affected by cancer.

Don't get me wrong. I don't judge anyone who's drawn to all the pink stuff. I own a lovely pink cowboy hat. I would just ask folks to think before they get swept up in the “Pinktober” frenzy. Put that pink soup back on the shelf. Step away from the pink sweater with the pink ribbon buttons (for so many reasons). Unless you really want the pink sunglasses, save your money. Most companies only give a tiny percentage of sales to breast cancer research. Why not make a donation instead to an organization that is demonstrably contributing to research, advocacy and especially prevention of all cancers? Then you'll know that you really are making a difference.

All the letters that the host, Jian Ghomeshi, read were on this subject and all of them opposed pinkwashing. Perhaps tomorrow will bring a deluge of letters taking an opposing opinion but it's good to see that more of us are speaking out on this issue that has driven me wild since my own diagnosis of breast cancer.

Cross-posted to Mothers With Cancer.

random book

Last week, I saw my book on the shelf at Chapters. I had walked in the back door of the store on Rideau Street, which leads straight into the health section. And there it was - or rather there they were. Three copies of my book just sitting on a shelf in a book store. It was a thrill to see it there. I had to call my spouse right away to tell him.

I had to go back to the same Chapters three days later (I had left my glasses in the store). I couldn't help going back to visit my book. There were only two copies left! They had sold one! I took a couple of steps away and then went back to pull a copy out so that the title page faced towards the front.

My heart still belongs to independent book stores, though. They are owned by booklovers, have knowledgeable staff and are the most supportive of writers. If you can buy my book through your local independent, I strongly encourage it. And if your local bookstore carries my book, let me know. I'll put their logo and a link in my sidebar.

I am quoted in a recent BlogHer article by web teacher Virginia DeBolt. Her post, "Self-Promote Your Book Using The Internet" has some really interesting ideas. I had never thought of doing a book trailer, for example. Of course, I still need to write content for the book's web site.

I also want to remind those of you in Toronto that the Not Done Yet launch will take place at the Toronto Women's Bookstore (73 Harbord, near Spadina) on October 22 from 7-9pm.

housekeeping

I'm going to be offline all this week, so I schedule this post to fill you in on a couple of things.

You can now subscribe to this blog. Quite a few people have asked me about it and it actually just took a few minutes to set up. If you want to get my posts via email, look over at the right hand column on this page. Just under the "about me" section  is a little box in which you can enter your email address. If you do that, you'll be notified every time I write a new post. If you go that route, let me know if it works for you.

I recently found out that Not Done Yet is available as an ebook from a few different sources.

Amazon Kindle 
US
Canada
UK

Kobo

Nook

I also have a few copies in my attic, if you like old-fashioned paper. I bought them at the author's discount, which I'd be happy to pass along to you. I'll even sign your copy and write a personal message. The cost of a real honest-to-goodness paper book is $20.00, plus whatever it costs me to ship it to you. That's a break even deal for me but I'd like to see the last few copies get out into the world. Click on the image on the top, right hand side of this page to send me an email or leave me a message in the comments.

I'll be back next week!

chronically whiny

I always think it's going to be different.

I say to myself, "This round of treatment, I will exercise and write and continue with my daily routine and see if that makes me feel better."

And thent, in the days that follow each dose of vinorelbine and Herceptin, I stay in bed too sick to do anything and lacking the self-discipline (motivation?) to try getting exercise, writing or going about my daily routine.

I don't even bother to eat well (although the soup I made the night before chemo was delicious and easy to heat up, so I did eat lots of that) or even do the easy things that might help (I was on the phone with my writing buddy and she asked if I'd been drinking hot water with lemon and ginger. Easy to prepare and she swears by it, yet I had completely forgotten).

I don't even drink enough water.

I just wait until the weekend when I know I'll feel better (unless I get sick, as I did yesterday and had to miss dinner with friends and my beloved book club).

I'm fed up.

Fed up with losing a week out of every month.

Fed up with having to constantly worry about my energy levels and not overdoing.

Fed up with not  having answers and having to worry.

Sometimes I amuse myself (and no one else) by announcing, "I'm done. That's it!"

But I don't really mean it. 

I know where I'd be if it weren't for all the chemo and the Herceptin. And I know that it's worth it.

And who knows? Maybe next time will be different.