Friday, April 25, 2008
You Are
The snugly one in bed. The one my dog likes better. A whirlwind. A healer. Better at sniffing out a deal. The better driver. Thoughtful about putting things away. A lighter of candles. Naturally good at golf and pretty much all sports. In tune with people's rhythms. Asking the doctors the right questions. A true sojourner. My favourite person. A light in a dark time. An answer to a prayer. A friend.
The snugly one in bed. The one my dog likes better. A whirlwind. A healer. Better at sniffing out a deal. The better driver. Thoughtful about putting things away. A lighter of candles. Naturally good at golf and pretty much all sports. In tune with people's rhythms. Asking the doctors the right questions. A true sojourner. My favourite person. A light in a dark time. An answer to a prayer. A friend.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
And In The Meantime...
Life very much goes on. Working on my garden. Working on my relationship. Ordering seed mats off the internet. Checking in on my brother and Auntie Alice. Figuring out my new role at work. Arranging to get the stinky dog groomed. Paying for shit.
So those biopsy results came back inconclusive. The lesions are in a really tricky spot – very low and deep towards the centre of the chest. The radiologist thinks the spots look suspicious so he has recommended surgery to remove them right away, with more pathology to follow. So I’m having what amounts to a lumpectomy on May 8th. It’s day surgery and I’ll take some time off work to recover, but should be ok fairly quickly. Sarah, always Sarah, will be there with me.
Yesterday I was pretty calm, mostly consumed with other things, different worries. But last night I had one of those crying-on-the-subway moments (except in my home office while trying to catch up on work). It lasted about 3 hours. I felt more alone than I ever have in my life. And scared! And then filled with calm and peace. And then blessed sleep.
But today I am just laughing at the ridiculousness of this... the needlessness of worry. (are those even words?).
Champagne is still chilling. Chambord still ensconced in the liquor cabinet.
Life very much goes on. Working on my garden. Working on my relationship. Ordering seed mats off the internet. Checking in on my brother and Auntie Alice. Figuring out my new role at work. Arranging to get the stinky dog groomed. Paying for shit.
So those biopsy results came back inconclusive. The lesions are in a really tricky spot – very low and deep towards the centre of the chest. The radiologist thinks the spots look suspicious so he has recommended surgery to remove them right away, with more pathology to follow. So I’m having what amounts to a lumpectomy on May 8th. It’s day surgery and I’ll take some time off work to recover, but should be ok fairly quickly. Sarah, always Sarah, will be there with me.
Yesterday I was pretty calm, mostly consumed with other things, different worries. But last night I had one of those crying-on-the-subway moments (except in my home office while trying to catch up on work). It lasted about 3 hours. I felt more alone than I ever have in my life. And scared! And then filled with calm and peace. And then blessed sleep.
But today I am just laughing at the ridiculousness of this... the needlessness of worry. (are those even words?).
Champagne is still chilling. Chambord still ensconced in the liquor cabinet.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Betty's Butties
Menu and business plan. This is what I would do if I had to, for some reason, live in England. I've had one butty in my life, and these would be the variations I'd provide. Aside from the regular chip butty and bacon butty, the rest are from my imagination. I know the purpose of a butty is to fill the hole either as an antidote before or after the pub, but something about a huge salty carb blast can be soothing, satisfying, and just the thing you want (but maybe not that often).
Pics.
Definition.
LOGISTICS
- lease chip van or tiny chip shop in dodgy neighbourhood, hopefully near a pub
- 2 fryer vats, 2 burners (to make sauces, fry bacon), oven, fridge, other necessary equipment
- Wed - Sat, business hours 4pm - 11pm
MENU
1. Chip Butty (chips, buttered bread)
- add sauce
2. Bacon Butty (crispy bacon, buttered bread)
- add chips
- add sauce
3. Bacon and Tomato Butty (crispy bacon, fresh tomato slices, buttered bread)
- add chips
- add sauce
4. Any Butty served doner-style in a pita
5. Sauces (add to any Butty):
- Butter Chicken (mild)
- Jerk Chicken (hot)
- Sharp Cheddar
Chips are medium-sized hand-cut frites fried in beef tallow drippings and seasoned to perfection
Fresh white bread; all Butties can be toasted
Doner-style served in fresh, fluffy oven-warmed pitas
Condiments include white vinegar, malt vinegar, ketchup, Daddies brown sauce, mayo
Menu and business plan. This is what I would do if I had to, for some reason, live in England. I've had one butty in my life, and these would be the variations I'd provide. Aside from the regular chip butty and bacon butty, the rest are from my imagination. I know the purpose of a butty is to fill the hole either as an antidote before or after the pub, but something about a huge salty carb blast can be soothing, satisfying, and just the thing you want (but maybe not that often).
Pics.
Definition.
LOGISTICS
- lease chip van or tiny chip shop in dodgy neighbourhood, hopefully near a pub
- 2 fryer vats, 2 burners (to make sauces, fry bacon), oven, fridge, other necessary equipment
- Wed - Sat, business hours 4pm - 11pm
MENU
1. Chip Butty (chips, buttered bread)
- add sauce
2. Bacon Butty (crispy bacon, buttered bread)
- add chips
- add sauce
3. Bacon and Tomato Butty (crispy bacon, fresh tomato slices, buttered bread)
- add chips
- add sauce
4. Any Butty served doner-style in a pita
5. Sauces (add to any Butty):
- Butter Chicken (mild)
- Jerk Chicken (hot)
- Sharp Cheddar
Chips are medium-sized hand-cut frites fried in beef tallow drippings and seasoned to perfection
Fresh white bread; all Butties can be toasted
Doner-style served in fresh, fluffy oven-warmed pitas
Condiments include white vinegar, malt vinegar, ketchup, Daddies brown sauce, mayo
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I Have To Take That Post Down
It's way, way way too grade 7. I have a strong desire to extricate myself from both friendships, but that wouldn't be very friendly of me! What kind of friend runs for the hills when it gets too tough and sticky? I don't enjoy being in the middle of someone's love life or her almost-breakdown, which is due to her love life. I hate feeling fallible and unable to cope with her problems, but I just don't want to be involved... I don't care... it's too much! It's too stressful.
Last night he called me to get together on Saturday and I said yes. Then I immediately had second thoughts. I said it would be tenuous to pursue a friendship with him that I would have to keep as a secret from her. She'd be unhappy if she knew. I expressed sorrow and I apologized. I also said I thought he was a good guy. The end.
He says he I did nothing wrong with regard to her, that he was honest and made sure that he did not lead her on, but that he guessed doing the right thing has a price, and he did not expect that price to be me. "Good luck".
GAH!
Then I said I agreed with him, he did nothing wrong [on the face of it, not loving her back and telling her that; going on his planned trip with his sisterly friend - to me those aren't wrong actions]. But it's awkward for me to be in the middle. It doesn't sit right with me to know she would be hurt if I had outings with him. It sucks. But I do still think well of him. I've had many thoughts about what happened. I'm torn about discussing her with him behind her back. I don't want to be in the middle but having a friendship with him puts me squarely there. So, so sorry.
That's it, game over.
It's way, way way too grade 7. I have a strong desire to extricate myself from both friendships, but that wouldn't be very friendly of me! What kind of friend runs for the hills when it gets too tough and sticky? I don't enjoy being in the middle of someone's love life or her almost-breakdown, which is due to her love life. I hate feeling fallible and unable to cope with her problems, but I just don't want to be involved... I don't care... it's too much! It's too stressful.
Last night he called me to get together on Saturday and I said yes. Then I immediately had second thoughts. I said it would be tenuous to pursue a friendship with him that I would have to keep as a secret from her. She'd be unhappy if she knew. I expressed sorrow and I apologized. I also said I thought he was a good guy. The end.
He says he I did nothing wrong with regard to her, that he was honest and made sure that he did not lead her on, but that he guessed doing the right thing has a price, and he did not expect that price to be me. "Good luck".
GAH!
Then I said I agreed with him, he did nothing wrong [on the face of it, not loving her back and telling her that; going on his planned trip with his sisterly friend - to me those aren't wrong actions]. But it's awkward for me to be in the middle. It doesn't sit right with me to know she would be hurt if I had outings with him. It sucks. But I do still think well of him. I've had many thoughts about what happened. I'm torn about discussing her with him behind her back. I don't want to be in the middle but having a friendship with him puts me squarely there. So, so sorry.
That's it, game over.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Why I Will Never Set People Up Again
I just have to vent.
Last summer I re-connected with an old boyfriend on facebook. So old in fact that we were sweeties at summer camp when we were 17 years old, and we are both approaching 40 now. Let’s call him Y. We briefly caught up over coffee and it was nice. Y is divorced, just as pleasant as ever, and leading an exciting life. I never had any romantic intentions when I found him on facebook.
I decided to set Y up with a friend of mine, X. X is also divorced, and also leads an interesting and fulfilled life. Simply put, I thought they’d be great together. Well, it turns out there were fireworks between X and Y! They had a couple of great months together and I felt good about setting them up.
Around this time I had lunch with Y. He treated me to lunch as a thank you for introducing him to X. I had bought him a funny, quirky little gift as well, knowing that it was something unusual and that he would like it. I bought the small and inconsequential gift simply as a thoughtful gesture. The restaurant was near my house, and the gift was in my refrigerator. After lunch we went to my house and I gave him the gift. He stood in my front hall for about 4 minutes. I haven't seen him or communicated with him since.
Later that evening I had some worried calls and emails from X, who knew that Y and I had met for lunch. She was having difficulty getting in touch with Y. She was worried. She knew he had been in my house. She suspected something had happened between us that afternoon, something sexual, and thus that was why she couldn't locate him: he was being evasive due to guilt.
Let me say here that I am gay. I am in a committed relationship with my partner, who is a woman. We are lesbians. Together. I don’t date men. I don’t cheat on my girlfriend. I wouldn’t sleep with a man [because I am now gay] who is dating my friend [because I wouldn't do that to a friend now]. And X knows all of this.
As it turns out, Y was just hard to locate that afternoon for totally unrelated reasons. But X’s suspicions gave me pause. It offended me that she would accuse me of that. She later apologized and I accepted her apology.
Their relationship continued. X fell in love with Y, and told him how she felt. Y didn’t reciprocate the sentiment although he wanted to stay together - he just wasn’t ready for that step. X was very down about that.
Then Y went on a trip halfway around the world with a friend of his - a woman. This trip was planned well in advance of X and Y ever meeting. X felt very strongly that Y should perhaps invite her along, or else possibly cancel the trip. X was not comfortable with the fact that Y would be traveling and sharing rooms with his woman-friend, someone Y described as "like a little sister to me", and with whom he assured X there was no possibility of romantic involvement. X was very unhappy about this, coupled with the fact that Y wouldn’t or couldn’t say "I love you" in return to X.
Y did not cancel the trip, nor did he invite X along. Then X went into a deep and dangerous depression. I was very worried about her. She couldn’t eat or sleep. She was so unhappy. I felt she might even be suicidal. X was crushed that Y wouldn’t say "I love you" because she was convinced that all his previous actions and communications DID in fact point to love - X thought that Y acted like he was in love with her. She was also devastated that he left to go on his trip because X was certain that Y would cheat on her with his friend.
X's unhappiness, fear and paranoia escalated. X sent Y an ugly email and Y threw up a wall and refused to acknowledge X's behaviour or accusations. So the relationship ended badly.
X is having severe difficulty getting over it. She still believes Y cheated. He insists he didn’t. X has asked me to call him and intervene on her behalf. I am very nervous to get involved. I am worried about how devastated my friend X still is. Y is a nice man but I am not really interested in maintaining the friendship – especially after what happened. I have nothing against him. But I should probably focus on my friendship with X. I don't really believe that Y cheated (there was no evidence), and that really offended X. She thinks that since we are friends, that I should support her, whatever she believes (even though deep down I think she is wrong). And X has a point. I should support her beliefs.
X is suspicious in nature. She was badly mistreated by a man in the past. But she feels that she needs to have more closure with Y and needs to talk with him again, even after burning the bridge.
I think therapy is in order and no amount of "closure chat" can fix what happened between X and Y. I think X should calm down, but she can't. And that's not really good advice for someone who is panicky about the loss of this relationship.
I have been there too. After Sheila cruelly dumped me someone said offhand, "Cheer up Betty" as though I had just dropped a toonie in the snow... like it was no big deal. Like I hadn't just had my heart stomped on. You can't tell a deeply depressed soul to cheer up.
X needs more than I can probably ever supply. I don't know, as a friend, how to react half the time, what to do, what's the right thing to say. When I tell her that I believe her that he cheated I AM LYING.
I just have to vent.
Last summer I re-connected with an old boyfriend on facebook. So old in fact that we were sweeties at summer camp when we were 17 years old, and we are both approaching 40 now. Let’s call him Y. We briefly caught up over coffee and it was nice. Y is divorced, just as pleasant as ever, and leading an exciting life. I never had any romantic intentions when I found him on facebook.
I decided to set Y up with a friend of mine, X. X is also divorced, and also leads an interesting and fulfilled life. Simply put, I thought they’d be great together. Well, it turns out there were fireworks between X and Y! They had a couple of great months together and I felt good about setting them up.
Around this time I had lunch with Y. He treated me to lunch as a thank you for introducing him to X. I had bought him a funny, quirky little gift as well, knowing that it was something unusual and that he would like it. I bought the small and inconsequential gift simply as a thoughtful gesture. The restaurant was near my house, and the gift was in my refrigerator. After lunch we went to my house and I gave him the gift. He stood in my front hall for about 4 minutes. I haven't seen him or communicated with him since.
Later that evening I had some worried calls and emails from X, who knew that Y and I had met for lunch. She was having difficulty getting in touch with Y. She was worried. She knew he had been in my house. She suspected something had happened between us that afternoon, something sexual, and thus that was why she couldn't locate him: he was being evasive due to guilt.
Let me say here that I am gay. I am in a committed relationship with my partner, who is a woman. We are lesbians. Together. I don’t date men. I don’t cheat on my girlfriend. I wouldn’t sleep with a man [because I am now gay] who is dating my friend [because I wouldn't do that to a friend now]. And X knows all of this.
As it turns out, Y was just hard to locate that afternoon for totally unrelated reasons. But X’s suspicions gave me pause. It offended me that she would accuse me of that. She later apologized and I accepted her apology.
Their relationship continued. X fell in love with Y, and told him how she felt. Y didn’t reciprocate the sentiment although he wanted to stay together - he just wasn’t ready for that step. X was very down about that.
Then Y went on a trip halfway around the world with a friend of his - a woman. This trip was planned well in advance of X and Y ever meeting. X felt very strongly that Y should perhaps invite her along, or else possibly cancel the trip. X was not comfortable with the fact that Y would be traveling and sharing rooms with his woman-friend, someone Y described as "like a little sister to me", and with whom he assured X there was no possibility of romantic involvement. X was very unhappy about this, coupled with the fact that Y wouldn’t or couldn’t say "I love you" in return to X.
Y did not cancel the trip, nor did he invite X along. Then X went into a deep and dangerous depression. I was very worried about her. She couldn’t eat or sleep. She was so unhappy. I felt she might even be suicidal. X was crushed that Y wouldn’t say "I love you" because she was convinced that all his previous actions and communications DID in fact point to love - X thought that Y acted like he was in love with her. She was also devastated that he left to go on his trip because X was certain that Y would cheat on her with his friend.
X's unhappiness, fear and paranoia escalated. X sent Y an ugly email and Y threw up a wall and refused to acknowledge X's behaviour or accusations. So the relationship ended badly.
X is having severe difficulty getting over it. She still believes Y cheated. He insists he didn’t. X has asked me to call him and intervene on her behalf. I am very nervous to get involved. I am worried about how devastated my friend X still is. Y is a nice man but I am not really interested in maintaining the friendship – especially after what happened. I have nothing against him. But I should probably focus on my friendship with X. I don't really believe that Y cheated (there was no evidence), and that really offended X. She thinks that since we are friends, that I should support her, whatever she believes (even though deep down I think she is wrong). And X has a point. I should support her beliefs.
X is suspicious in nature. She was badly mistreated by a man in the past. But she feels that she needs to have more closure with Y and needs to talk with him again, even after burning the bridge.
I think therapy is in order and no amount of "closure chat" can fix what happened between X and Y. I think X should calm down, but she can't. And that's not really good advice for someone who is panicky about the loss of this relationship.
I have been there too. After Sheila cruelly dumped me someone said offhand, "Cheer up Betty" as though I had just dropped a toonie in the snow... like it was no big deal. Like I hadn't just had my heart stomped on. You can't tell a deeply depressed soul to cheer up.
X needs more than I can probably ever supply. I don't know, as a friend, how to react half the time, what to do, what's the right thing to say. When I tell her that I believe her that he cheated I AM LYING.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
I Is Biops'd
Yesterday was not bad at all. Sarah was with me THE WHOLE DAY and we brought the paper, coffee, puzzles, etc. I saw my old Grade 13 Economics teacher and also my old across-the-road neighbour from Chatsworth Drive… both were at the breast clinic getting checked. Come to think of it, I probably saw every patient that passed through there yesterday because we were there the entire day. I had several additional ultrasounds and mammograms. I am such an old pro. I don't even mind the spot compressions now.
We had an opportunity to go out in the middle of the day and Sarah got her hot new glasses and sunglasses. Glasses are expensive! $900! I did some work on my blackberry.
I had the biopsy under mammography, so you’re lying sideways all trussed up to the machine, boob frozen and squished into place, lots of students standing around watching. The doc told me to close my eyes. There were several staple gun noises, some pressure, no pain whatsoever, and I was left with a millimetre-sized hole in my boob and loads of blood everywhere (the gun shoots in and out really fast and goes quite deep). Then the technician cleaned me all up with lots of alcohol and she applied a special bandage. The mammogram machine is digital so some of the people in the room watched the procedure on screen, making sure that the biopsy gun was shooting dead centre into the lesion.
Advil took care of the pain. I feel pretty good although I was very tired last night. Slept like a log. No marauding raccoons or backyard intruders could have wakened me.
Yesterday was not bad at all. Sarah was with me THE WHOLE DAY and we brought the paper, coffee, puzzles, etc. I saw my old Grade 13 Economics teacher and also my old across-the-road neighbour from Chatsworth Drive… both were at the breast clinic getting checked. Come to think of it, I probably saw every patient that passed through there yesterday because we were there the entire day. I had several additional ultrasounds and mammograms. I am such an old pro. I don't even mind the spot compressions now.
We had an opportunity to go out in the middle of the day and Sarah got her hot new glasses and sunglasses. Glasses are expensive! $900! I did some work on my blackberry.
I had the biopsy under mammography, so you’re lying sideways all trussed up to the machine, boob frozen and squished into place, lots of students standing around watching. The doc told me to close my eyes. There were several staple gun noises, some pressure, no pain whatsoever, and I was left with a millimetre-sized hole in my boob and loads of blood everywhere (the gun shoots in and out really fast and goes quite deep). Then the technician cleaned me all up with lots of alcohol and she applied a special bandage. The mammogram machine is digital so some of the people in the room watched the procedure on screen, making sure that the biopsy gun was shooting dead centre into the lesion.
Advil took care of the pain. I feel pretty good although I was very tired last night. Slept like a log. No marauding raccoons or backyard intruders could have wakened me.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Fundraised Lemmings
I see so many ads and flyers for hospital lotteries, walks and rides, whose organizers every year get more and more adept at getting others to raise the funds to pay the bills to learn more and more about the diseases which get us in the end. It's become so common for us to email hundreds of friends, ask them for thousands of dollars, and then give up a couple of days to some sort of crowded physical event, and feel a changed person for it. Fundraising has been pushed off to affected groups of "survivors" and their loved ones, who participate in some sort of "thing" all while tapping everyone THEY know for the money, and then to come out the other side with "the experience". I know I've said this before but people are fatigued with the giving and tapped out on being put through the grinder of the experience. Surely this trend is coming to an end?
I feel so differently about this than I did 5 or 6 years ago when I first did The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. It's like when I look at the paintings I did this time last year, which hang on my walls. I remember so clearly the moment in time I was painting, that thrilled feeling of accomplishment, like, LOOK WHAT I DID, how exciting it was, and the circumstances around the art class, how I bravely jumped in with both feet to the cold water of a crazy affair which broke my heart all over again. And now I look at those paintings and I see how naive, how energetically amateur, how little I knew, how raw, how beautiful. They don't embarrass me but I don't think I could ever paint like that again.
And I don't think I can feel energized about some woman's efforts to raise money for breast cancer awareness or some damn thing. I look at those women and just think wait until you're in the system, sitting there shivering at the breast clinic, full of uncertainty, hoping for the best but ready for the worst. It's a million miles away from a 5km run or a bike ride around the bay, or walking through Rosedale.
Martha texted me today "how are you doing?" because she knows my biopsy is on Tuesday. I just think, you know what, I'm not gonna mope and break down if it's bad news. I'm gonna be like Doris. Just keep going into work, wear some cheap and cheerful wig, talk about it lots, let everyone know and keep living and not stress about it. It won't tear people's lives apart this time, I won't let it.
I see so many ads and flyers for hospital lotteries, walks and rides, whose organizers every year get more and more adept at getting others to raise the funds to pay the bills to learn more and more about the diseases which get us in the end. It's become so common for us to email hundreds of friends, ask them for thousands of dollars, and then give up a couple of days to some sort of crowded physical event, and feel a changed person for it. Fundraising has been pushed off to affected groups of "survivors" and their loved ones, who participate in some sort of "thing" all while tapping everyone THEY know for the money, and then to come out the other side with "the experience". I know I've said this before but people are fatigued with the giving and tapped out on being put through the grinder of the experience. Surely this trend is coming to an end?
I feel so differently about this than I did 5 or 6 years ago when I first did The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. It's like when I look at the paintings I did this time last year, which hang on my walls. I remember so clearly the moment in time I was painting, that thrilled feeling of accomplishment, like, LOOK WHAT I DID, how exciting it was, and the circumstances around the art class, how I bravely jumped in with both feet to the cold water of a crazy affair which broke my heart all over again. And now I look at those paintings and I see how naive, how energetically amateur, how little I knew, how raw, how beautiful. They don't embarrass me but I don't think I could ever paint like that again.
And I don't think I can feel energized about some woman's efforts to raise money for breast cancer awareness or some damn thing. I look at those women and just think wait until you're in the system, sitting there shivering at the breast clinic, full of uncertainty, hoping for the best but ready for the worst. It's a million miles away from a 5km run or a bike ride around the bay, or walking through Rosedale.
Martha texted me today "how are you doing?" because she knows my biopsy is on Tuesday. I just think, you know what, I'm not gonna mope and break down if it's bad news. I'm gonna be like Doris. Just keep going into work, wear some cheap and cheerful wig, talk about it lots, let everyone know and keep living and not stress about it. It won't tear people's lives apart this time, I won't let it.
