Crabby Crab

I went to Vancouver a couple weeks ago for a family emergency (everything is okay) and in order to get there I hung out on public transport for many-an-hour. Which meant I got to do cool things like people watch, chow down on a gooey chocolate bar for breakfast (you're allowed to do that when you're traveling, oh-yes-you-are-trust-me), and... wait for it...

READ THE PAPER.

The whole thing. Oooooooooooooh... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

This was my horoscope for the day. I am a Cancer. I just googled my crabby self and turns out I'm a homebody. I'm moody, I'm resistant to change and I have a thick shell.

WHO THE HELL DOES THE WRITE UP FOR THESE THINGS? Maybe I should start all my intro's with, "Hello, how do you do? My name is Shauna, RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE before I bitch your head off you and make you stay in my HOME while I do it."

Aside from that, I liked this horoscope. Made me smile. I have lots to be thankful for. And I did write up a list as I slowly made my way to Vancouver. I won't write it out here lest I gross you out with the goopiness of it all. But suffice to say I have lots of reasons to say Thank you. Every. Single. Day.

Thank you!

If you liked this post and you would like to share it, that would be super! Thank you so much!

Happy Birthday and I Miss You

Five and a half months ago a good friend of mine died and today would have been her birthday. Today should have been her birthday.

She was goofy. She didn't let me wimp out of getting a tattoo at a dodgy tattoo parlor in Japan. She could play piano and when she was a teenager she had the kind of hair that made a perfect poof. You know when you clip your hair up with a barrette? Her hair did that perfectly. We were brats in dance class and our teacher never did catch us red-handed. When I freaked out in university she brought me home and we had sleepovers until I felt better. She always seemed to call at the right time. She was a trooper and we traded clothes and sometimes she talked like a trucker and it just made you like her more. When we got older we saw each other about once a year and we'd get hammered on red wine and talk until we`d solved all the worlds` problems and our throats were sore. She stayed with me in my bridal suite the night before my wedding and we got ready together the next morning. After she was diagnosed it was like all of her vibrancy concentrated and she shimmered. She looked amazing in every single wig she owned and totally pulled off being bald. She had a fantastic smile. Everyone loved her. She is my definition of `brave.`

She's the reason I started this blog. I started it after she died. At her funeral we were all talking about her vigor and her passion for dance and the organization she co-founded. John and I were talking a few days later and we asked that weird question that always comes around sooner or later: What would they say at my funeral?

All I could think of was: Damn, that Shauna was ORGANIZED!

For reasons I hope are obvious I didn't think that was enough so I started to write here because I needed a space of my own to just, BE I guess. A place to figure out some shit. I haven't been able to really write about her directly until now, although some of the posts have been about her I guess (like this one, and this one).

I`m not sure how much I`ve figured out and I know I'm not changing the world just yet, but it feels good to be writing.

I don't usually feel angry anymore. The shock seems to have mostly worn off and I don't dream about her as much. I know more about the services available to people actively dying than I care to know. I know what it feels like for a close friend to die and I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW THAT.

Sometimes when I least expect it I`ll feel like I`ve fallen into a hole and the only way I can breathe is through tears. And then sometimes I`ll hear her say, `Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,` and I`ll get a bit of a laugh. I think I`m always going to fall into that hole every now and then, I don`t think that when it hurts, it is ever going to hurt less.

I do however, know that I am going to continually smile more. I`m glad she helped convince my parents to let me move to Toronto after high school. I`m glad I got a chance to cat sit for her and entertain her brother when he came to visit and I`m glad that when she needed some help I could be there for her. Holy shit I miss her.

The pink card above was sitting on my chair at her funeral. Her aunt made them and there was one for every chair, plus extras because her service had so many people in attendance there weren`t enough seats. I have no idea who Kobi Yamada is/was, but I think it`s good advice:

Leave your comfort zone. Go stretch yourself for a good cause.

That sounds like a pretty good idea to me. And, right now I am going to pick up some organic red wine and raise a toast to a vivacious, brave, kind, fierce princess (that`s what she was known as,`fierce`as in `slammin`` or `spectacular`or what have you). And I am going to stop being so doom and gloomy. And I`m going to give my husband a hug and my dogs a belly rub... and then maybe have some more wine.

Love you, Miss Lovely.

F*ck cancer. Live life.

Editors note: I just wanted to write to say thank you all so very much for your support. It is so comforting to know you guys are out there. Thank you for being kind.

If you liked this post and you would like to share it, that would be super! Thank you so much!

Things Even More Scary Than Freddy Krueger

Started this post on Monday, September 14, 2009

I have a weird looking mole on my right side, right on my ribs. It didn’t always look weird. Now it does.

I AM FREAKED OUT.

Ew. Mole. Gross. Yes, gross… I’m nervous. Actually, not just nervous. At this precise moment I’m a bit scared. Five minutes ago I was distracted, now I’m not distracted. I liked it better when I was distracted.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Fear is a funny thing. Not funny “ha ha,” more like funny “cock-your-head-at-a-weird-angle-and-squint-your-eyes-and-see-if-you-can-sort-out-a-way-to-process-this.” That kind of “funny.”

When I was 16 years old I went camping with my friend Kelly and we decided, in our infinite wisdom, to go for a walk when it was pitch black out. We were walking along and then we saw a flashlight bobbing through the forest and then SUDDENLY THE BOBBING FLASHLIGHT DISAPPEARED. Which naturally meant that a serial killer was on his way to murder us and was trying to conceal his location. I was terrified, I-Am-Positive-I-Am-Going-To-Die-A-Horrible-Gruesome-Death terrified. As my friend and I scurried the long way around the campsite back to our tent (because “the long way” is SURE FIRE PROTECTION against serial killers) I distinctly remember saying to myself: If I get murdered by a psychopath my Dad is going to KILL ME. Because my dad would be SO MAD that I would do something SO STUPID as to walk around at night in the forest with Freddy Krueger. Such was the logic of my 16 year old self.

So, that was me pretty scared.

This is a different kind of scared. This is like a quiet, niggling fear that is hanging out in the back of my mind. I can get my work done, chat with John, take the dogs for a walk , make dinner, email my girlfriends, go to the gym, roll my eyes at Kayne’s stupid antics and bitch about the BONEHEADED KID THAT SKATEBOARDS UP AND DOWN MY STREET AT 3 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. I’d say that stuff takes up about 90% of my brain capacity. 5% of me wants to march over to the doctors’ office RIGHT NOW and frantically demand that he tell me what is going on so I can know one way or the other. 3% of me feels a weird sort of peace about the whole thing. 2% of me wishes I hadn’t even noticed the offending weirdness in the first place. That is bad, I know. But it’s true.

I have an appointment at 2:50pm tomorrow. I made the appointment yesterday. I noticed the little anomaly on Sunday. I just have to wait. There is no sense in worrying, that doesn’t help at all. But I’m still worried. 18 hours from now I will be staring at my doctor waiting for him to react in EXACTLY THE PERFECT WAY so that all my worries can drift away into silly, nervous, nothingness.

I just googled “skin cancer mole.” Right. Let’s file that one under “Really, Shauna?!!! REALLY?!!!” No more google searches for me today. Alrighty then.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

My appointment is today. John just assured me, again, that everything is going to be a-ok, and it totally worked because I really do feel much better (OH MY GOD, I THINK MY WEIRD MOLE SIDE IS ACTUALLY PARALYZED. HAS IT ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT???). I’m in a really good mood today too (SERIOUSLY, MY SIDE HURTS. AND MY SHOULDER HURTS. AND MY THROAT HURTS).

Clearly my rational side is doing battle with my overly dramatic, paranoid side (THERE IS NOTHING PARANOID ABOUT FEELING PAIN. THE DOCTOR IS GOING TO GASP WHEN HE SEES ME. WHAT IF HE ADMITS ME RIGHT ON THE SPOT? WHAT IF HE TOLD ME THAT TIME WAS RUNNING OUT? WHAT IF HE TELLS ME THAT MY WHOLE RIGHT SIDE HAS TO BE AMPUTATED? CAN THEY DO THAT? WOULD THEY HAVE TO AMPUTATE MY ARM? HOW WOULD I TYPE? I’D HAVE TO GET A BIONIC ARM. DO THEY HAVE THOSE? WOULD I HAVE METAL FINGERS? I’D HAVE TO PUT PADS ON THE TIPS SO THEY DIDN’T CLICK ON THE KEYBOARD BECAUSE CONSTANT CLICKING WOULD DRIVE ME INSANE. COULD MY BIONIC ARM GET WET? THE DOGS ARE GOING TO CHEW ON IT AND I’M NOT GOING TO NOTICE. I’M GOING TO HAVE A RATTY BIONIC ARM THAT CLICKS. OMG).

I think it’s a good sign that I’m making jokes.

Holy crap, I hope the next bit I write is about me making fun of how ridiculous I am.

After my appointment…

My doctor said he wasn’t “too concerned.” I think that is pretty good. I am happy with that prognosis.

He took a look, cut it off (EWWWWW! Yes, yes, blecht, gross I know, but that is what they do) and is sending it to the lab. In 7-10 days I will be able to completely rest easy and have a good ol’ laugh at my insane, hyperactive-imagination self.

A mere 7-10 days.

7-10.

No problem.

Wednesday, September 30^th, 2009 aka Exactly 10 Business Days Later

My doctor is on holidays and the woman who answered the phone is not “trained” to read “these kinds of tests.”

#1 What the hell was he thinking going on holidays? Does he not know it is now 7-10 DAYS LATER?!!!

#2 I’ve got some whizz bang employee training ideas for the clinic: TEACH EVERYONE HOW TO READ “THOSE KINDS OF TESTS” SO THAT “THOSE KINDS OF PATIENTS” DON’T LOSE IT.

I’m pretty sure if there was anything to worry about the lab would have covered my file in fluorescent highlighter or underlined the part where it said OH MY GOD SHE'S GONNA NEED A HALF BODY AMPUTATION!!! so things are mostly likely fine. But still, it would be nice to know for sure.

I now have an appointment for Oct 16^th. A mere 12 business days away.

I am also getting a haircut on that Friday. So, this could either be a very GOOD day or a very BAD day because NOTHING IS WORSE THAN A BAD HAIRCUT.

Friday, October 16^th, 2009 aka 10 + 12 Business Days Later

All is fine. SEE! Of course everything is fine. Everything is fine. And I am SUPER HAPPY WITH MY HAIR, my hair could NOT BE BETTER, it is a GOOD HAIR DAY. I'll post a pic later.

All fine. Hmmm. Guess I'm more relieved than I thought I would be about this!

Today

I'm not sure how cancer survivors do it. I can't imagine how scary the whole process must be. I kind of knew that things had to be more or less okay, but my mind still got carried away ("carried away?" Ha! Maybe try something more along the lines of a one of those super-bouncy bouncy balls going boing, boing, BOING, BOING! BOING! BOING! BOING! back and forth, back and forth with annoying, but impressively consistent regularity. But "carried away" is cute too).

If you are a cancer survivor/you're kicking cancers' ass right now/you are touched in some way by cancer KEEP GOING! Good for you! Holy shit, I am so inspired by your strength and your courage and your chutzpah and your general KICK ASSED-NESS.

If you have some kind of freaky skin anomaly, just go and get it checked out. Please? It's better to know, and (you know this) EARLY DETECTION IS KEY. Here is a link to the Canadian Cancer Society and here is a link to the American Cancer Society.

Another thing- if you know someone who is using Super Human Strength to get through something, maybe go and get them a gift certificate for a massage, or take them to a movie... or PERHAPS YOU COULD GET THEM A GOOFY HAT WITH A PROPELLER ON TOP- whatever, ANYTHING! It must be hard to be Super Human everyday.

Who hasn't wanted to see a real, live propeller hat in action?

If you liked this post and you would like to share it, that would be super! Thank you so much!

CIBC Run for the Cure 2009

Mickey and I walked the CIBC Run for the Cure again this year (check out a photo of us from 2008).

I'm honoured to have joined thousands of Canadians across the country in support of raising funds for breast cancer research. My heart goes out to the individuals and families touched by this horrible disease. Keep fighting, keep running, keep dancing... keep laughing and crying and just doing whatever the heck it is you need to do to keep doing it. We're here for you.

A huge thank you to the volunteers for coordinating this country-wide day of fundraising- well done!


If you liked this post and you would like to share it, that would be super! Thank you so much!