Happiness Is…

Preparing for Hallowe’en

I’m not big on the actual event. Trick or treating. Candy. Dealing with the door.

But I adore the month-long preparations.

The colours. The crafts. The googly-eyed desserts.
The rhyming, creativity-packed picture books. The manic costume creation.

Two years ago today, as I prepared for those long-awaited test-results, we splurged on Hallowe’en. Filling our craft-store basket, despite the expense.

I thought it was my last Hallowe’en.

It wasn’t.

Lucky, lucky me.

An Accidental Time Capsule

In fall 2009, during the stressful 6-week wait for diagnosis of that lump, I turned my back on our beloved podcast, Just One More Book.

Weeks later, Bob Goyetche and I discussed that decision, for the Canadian Podcast Buffet.
It was hours after my biopsy. Mark was out of town.

With all the PAB2011 captured-story excitement this week, that interview bobbed to my mind’s surface. And I took the time to listen to that 15 minute chat.

Wondering how we endured the 6 week wait. How I did that interview. And how we possibly got from there to here.

I’m glad those moments were captured. I’m glad I thought to listen.

Life’s odd. In a good way.

If you’d like to listen too, the interview is at the 18 minute mark of episode 147 of CPB.

Photo AttributionNoncommercialShare Alike Some rights reserved by Bruce Murray (The Zedcast)

A Long-Overdue Apology

It hit me during Bif Naked’s un-freakin-believably honest, poignant and entertaining address at the conference last weekend.
And it hit me hard (thanks to you).

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Bif described how breast cancer had saddled her with the pieces-picking-upping of her inconsolable family and friends. And the survivor crowd gave a massive been-there roar.

With all the whining that I did about inappropriate reactions, complete collapse (well, even the slightest tearing up) was a possible reaction that had never crossed my mind.

I blasted the world with my news as soon as I got it. By email, SMS, twitter, blogs, newsletter, gchat and in person, I shot my message out with faith that the returning vibes would get me through it.

Not a single adult cried. Not even Mark.

And, no matter how scary things got, my close friends and family always shrugged my worries off. And I guess I followed suit.

I realize now, it was not because they didn’t care. It was because they did.

So thank you, my beautiful friends and family, for shielding me from concern.
And please accept my sincere apology for not appreciating it sooner.

Happiness Is…

A Successful Shopping Spree.

I had dreamed last year, while planning our Quebec City getaway, of discovering some funky new hand-made winter clothes.

My diagnosis hit just days before our trip.

As I wandered that gorgeous city, barely daring to notice its inspiring art and creatively concocted clothing, I was pretty sure my shopping days were done.

But they weren’t!

I’m happy to report that, yesterday, Lucy and I spent the entire day in the Byward Market — and boy did we have fun.

We shopped like there was no a tomorrow.

And even though I’ll never look like this gorgeous gal, I decided it was now or never for those funky arm thingies I adore.

SMS? Really?

This is a question that comes up occassionally.

Yes. Really. Andrea really SMS’d me to let me know the biopsy results when she received them on October 6. You can see it for yourself in the image of this post.

SMS is just one of the many ways Andrea and I stay connected. On October 6th, it allowed Andrea to keep me up to date in real time as she spoke with her physician.

The sequence happened like this.

I was working in my home office when the phone rang. It was Andrea’s physician. We had been anxiously awaiting the results since the biopsy on September 29. Of course, the doctor wouldn’t tell me the results over the phone. So, I gave her Andrea’s cell number.

That led to the SMS I sent to Andrea at 1:34 p.m. “Dr. M……. calling you right now!!!”

It took a few minutes for Dr. M to make the call. It was 1:55 p.m. when I received the message “It’s cancer”.