Ouch!

I hurt.
Skijoring on hard-packed snowmobile trails on the lake awakened muscles that have been dormant for a long, long time…. Didn’t really think I would get this sore, what with snowshoeing every day for the past month, but I guess I had fooled myself there. Trying to remain standing on skis that sometimes went off in two different directions, obviously engaged other muscles than slogging around on snowshoes does.
Oh well, it gave me a perfect excuse for taking it easy today – which means I’ve been sitting by the PC most of the day…. Great way to spend a Saturday!

T

Our lovable mutt, 4 years old and still as happy-go-lucky as a puppy.

Today we went on our first skijoring trip! My fear has always been that he would take off with me hanging on behind him like a streamer – but today I decided to throw caution to the wind. Over Easter there was a lot of traffic with snowmobiles on the lake right outside our house, so this was the right time to try out some of the tracks
I’m sure glad no one was there to record our start! In his exuberance, T almost felled me by running in circles while I was yelling my head off, trying to get him to stand still while I got my sh-t together. We got going and he took off like there was no tomorrow – while I was trying to stay on my feet on a trail that was a lot more slick than I had expected. After about a km, I also remembered that there is a cute little female in heat in the next village down the lake, so I tried to lessen the speed on the equipage…
The only way was to throw myself down in the snow, with Tjorro running in circles around me – again! He is walking proof that there are other species aside from gold fish with a 4-second memory span!
Our trek home was somewhat more sedate – Tjorro stopping every now and then to sniff the air for that Lovely in the next village, turning his cinnamon eyes on me to beg for his freedom. I tried taking pictures of him but the best one was really only his black, shiny nose an inch from the camera.
The goal for this excursion was actually the spot where our neighbour has put some nets under the ice but, since Tjorro is an incorrigible nut case, I was unable to take any pictures of this. Instead, I took this one when we got home.
I wonder if he would behave any differently if he knew how often I have threatened to make mitts out of him…
Naah!
He is resting secure in the knowledge that he is loved.

My Studio

…. sounds much too pretentious for the room we are preparing right now – but on the other hand, why not! That’s where my Glimakra Loom will reside in not too long. Yaaay! I can’t wait to have everything in one place!!!
I finally learned how to weave less than 10 years ago, which was remarkable in more ways than one. I come from a family of women who have always been very good at handicrafting. ANY kind, in fact. Every home in our family is filled with all of the beautiful things they have done with their hands – everything from dainty lace on baptismal gowns to sturdy rag rugs, beautiful handwoven drapes and curtains, knitted clothing….
Me, I gave up on knitting after a pair of disastrous mittens in grade three and crocheting when I couldn’t even make a decent dress for a doll. Embroidery, sewing and any other type of handicraft has gone the same way – most often because I never had the patience to finish anything. Imagine my utter lack of self confidence after years of untold projects, never finished…

That’s where things were at when I got the opportunity to try weaving rag rugs the first time – and it was Love from the first decisive thumps of the beater (That’s the part that holds the reed and is used to ‘beat in’ the weft with – Sorry, won’t get any more technical than that!)
Oh, did I mention that it was Richard’s Grandmother who let me use her loom? She is the sweetest lady in the world – and a master weaver who had the wisdom to let me try!
The rug in blue, red and green above turned out quite nice, I think. However, I had to dye the blue rags to make sure I’d have enough of them and that created a bit of a mess. I was sitting in the kitchen when I cut the material into strips – and the dust from that crept into everything. We ate blue food for a couple of days.
The other one has an identical mate and they are now gracing the floor in our bedroom. There’s a story attached to those as well. I was given some old drapes from a library to use in weaving – and there were a LOT of drapes. It took me almost a week to unstitch all the seams, remove the pinch-pleats and then cut them into strips – after which I was so sick of the material that I could barely look at the balls of material. Like the stubborn wretch I am, I persisted and got the damned rugs ready, and then promptly put them away in the storage room. That’s where they languished for about three years, before our new bedroom was finished and by then I’d forgotten how miserable I was when making them.
Oh yes – I should tell you that we have hardwood floors in all rooms, except the laundry and bathrooms. We also have the heating in the floors (hot water in plastic piping) which is heavenly in our climate – but I still want rugs around the house.

Has This Changed Me?

Quite often you hear or read about people who consider a certain event in their lives to be the defining moment or the point at which their lives made a 360 degree turn. I suppose that’s what a friend alluded at the other day when asking if I felt that cancer had made me stronger.
My initial reaction was – What kind of a question is that?
My answer was vapid, if not downright stupid – as if I hadn’t spent a moment thinking about my life with cancer. My life post-cancer for the second time, at that!

In 2004 when I was diagnosed with a slow-growing type of breast cancer, I was still getting over the death of my mother a mere 4 months earlier. I immediatley went into reactive mode and became very efficient in dealing with the physical situation – I just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with as soon as possible. Losing a breast wasn’t traumatic at 50+ and having a ‘falsy’ was something I thought about mostly when my bra fell to the floor with an audible thump. Life went on as before, I had just dealt with one more curve ball – now I had things to do, people to see and places to go!
Most significantly though – I kept on smoking even though you might say I had ‘the writing on my chest’.
Three years later I had finally worked through all reasons for NOT quitting – the last one being that I didn’t want to gain weight and get the same ridiculous midriff as several female relatives…. The decision to quit smoking was mine and mine alone – not even Richard was in on it. No guilt trips, no promises – this was Trudie against the fags and I was doing it of my own accord! Not even the doctor had urged me – he just said ‘Yea sure I’ll give you the prescription, but without a sermon. You’re welcome to try.’
Lo and behold – the tiny little blue pills did the trick! Somehow they managed to short-cicuit my brain so effectively that a 40-year habit lost its firm grip on me. Forget self-control or willpower – I needed a chemically induced aversion to nicotine before I could quit! I STILL smoked a few times even after the taste was enough to gag me…. Almost as if I needed to reassure myself that the taste still was worse than sucking on guano.

I have already written about what happened during the early parts of the winter and what followed. I’ve also written about the bronchoscopy, the other examinations and the operation.

In what way(s) – if any – has this changed me as a person? I don’t know if it’s too early to document any major and lasting changes, or indeed if that is something within the realm of possibilities – at my age.

Admittedly, quitting smoking was a major change, but still not a direct result of my cancer.

I don’t get my knickers in a knot over small stuff to the same extent as I used to. There again – has advancing age made me more mellow or should that be attributed to my brush with death?

Do I enjoy life differently? Don’t think so – but I do have a lot more TIME to enjoy it! This is the first time in my life that I’ve been off work or school a full 5 months – for any reason. I do have time to smell the proverbial flowers, to stop in wonder over little things.

Has my thinking undergone any significant changes? No, I don’t think so – or maybe it’s too early to tell.

Am I a different person? Negative to that one as well – at least from where I stand. Besides, I think people surrounding me could better answer that question truthfully…

So, does this make me an incorrigible idiot or is all the hoopla about defining moments just that – a lot of bovine fecal matter?

Poor Easter Bunnies!

This is how many of the pine trees around here look this winter. There is an abundance of hares this winter but with this much snow, they have a rough time finding anything to eat. Normally they do a good job of peeling the bark off branches from deciduous trees, but when there isn’t enough of that to go around they have to eat what there is. On the picture above it’s evident that they may have been hard up for food in previous years as well.

Easter weekend has been sunny, clear and cold. I haven’t spent much time outside as I again have been feeling queesy and out of sorts. Nothing major, just enough to make me pick the couch before any other place to spend the holidays!

Go Figure!

Over the last couple of days I’ve been on the outskirts of a story that I find increasingly incomprehensible, the more I think about it. I don’t purport to have all the details but I think the situation has evolved something like this.
Person A and B were friends, very close friends. They came to a parting of the road. A forbids B to check out A:s blog. B promises to not even have a peek – but succumbs to normal, human curiosity and wanders into this particular URL on one occasion. Person A goes ape, flips the lid, has kittens and engages Person X as general defender and crusader, while accusing Person B for stalking. (?!!)
Person X embarks on a veritable vendetta against Person B – via e-mail, phone calls and text messages, accusing her of all and sundry crimes.
Person B is going out of her mind.
Enter Persons C and D, who rally to her (B:s) side. Contact is taken with the local police and the situation is described in all its’ ugliness. Shortly after, Person X is contacted by the local constabulary in her/his hometown, after which nasty correspondence and calls cease to pop up i Person B:s PC or cell phone.
My questions are two:
Why have a public blog if you don’t want it to be accessible to every single person with an Internet hook-up? Has this person not heard of ‘by-invitation-only-blogging’ which enables you to shut out those persons with whom you do not desire interaction – literal or virtual?
I can only surmise the actions of Person A are fuelled with anger over her own stupidity.

A Hallmark Moment

Not.
Have been feeling really crappy since Friday afternoon with yesterday being the worst so far. Not nauseous to the point of vomiting, my whole system just seems to have been off kilter. I still made a run into town yesterday, mostly to get out of my SO’s hair for a while but also to get some much needed supplies.
Felt well enough today to take R for a run but after that I had no energy left for T. While my SO took him out I landed on the couch, watching some movie on Hallmark. Nothing too intellectually taxing, more of a curtain of sound to make me doze off.
Having written this far, I am almost ready to erase it all and go do something useful. Like flogging myself for being such an ungrateful whimp! I have no damned reason to feel sorry for myself. So far I’ve eaten anything I wanted, exercised when I felt the urge, gained close to 10 lbs and generally lead a very pleasant life – despite Chemo.
So, why this sudden pity party?

A Long Day

By the time I got home last night I was totally exhausted and not from the treatment, but from the travelling.
Living as we do, some 300 km from the big regional hospital, we can go there by taxi and bus. This is one of the things we get for our taxes – so believe me when I say I am very grateful. It is however, a service I use only when I really have to, and you’ll soon know why. The alarm rang at 05.00, I was in the taxi before 6 AM and stepped in at the hospital twenty to 11. The return-trip was just as long, so all in all I spent 10+ hours travelling for a little more than 2 hours at the hospital. Being a very impatient type of person, I grind my teeth a fair bit during a day like this, since the bus also stops to pick up/deliver freight and passengers in two medium-sized towns enroute!
This is a bus service for the comfort of the patients!!!
In my book it seems like a far better idea to use a smaller vehicle that would pick up passengers at two or three designated stops but leave freight and other passenger for someone else to worry about!

I’ve been out for a run along the road with both dogs today. The temperature is above Zero and you can hear the water running in the rain gutters – while it is still snowing ever so lightly! We now have over a meter of snow and looking at the pile outside our den it’s hard to beleive that this will ever melt away.

Oh, in case you were wondering – the treatment took just over 2 hours yesterday and I haven’t begun to feel the full force of Chemo Brain yet. I do know that a diet of pop and chocolate bars on the way home wasn’t a good idea – my stomach has been in an uproar all night and all morning. Ah well, I can’t be eating only nutritional foods all the time!

3rd Wave

Got the message today that all tests came out OK and that I am to receive my third treatment tomorrow. What a relief!
On Sunday I woke up with a decidedly sore throat so I spent the entire day on the couch hiding under a blanket. The last thing I want to happen now is that some low-grade infection will delay a treatment. So far I’ve been lucky although the tiniest cut becomes red and sore almost immediately. Also, my throat and nose is very dry, I get minor nosebleeds and my gums bleed if I brush too hard.
The floor in my hobby room is almost done! However, it’s not yet time to shout Hurrah, as there is still quite a few things to finish in there. I’ve also promised myself to not move in any of the weaving supplies before the room is totally done. Knowing my SO, that last trimming around the windows will never get done if I start using the room.

T is…

… on the cover of National Geographic!
Or not.
I do think this dog looks a bit dopier than our lovable mutt, even though she reportedly has a ‘vocabulary’ of 34o words and is constantly adding to it. Nuts to that! Ours can smell an evening snack or sandwiches through doors. He gets hysterical when I put on my winter gear in the laundry room but doesn’t bat an eyelid if I do something else in there.
This being the weekend of the traditional Winter Market in town, I’m planning on going there tomorrow. Should be quite safe walking around outside in -10 Celcius or so, even if my immune system isn’t totally up to par.