An Unexpected Journey

Housekeeping

• I’ve restored one older post that I still had a draft copy of, and I’m working on a quick recap post that will sum up the other journal entries that I lost.
• I’m also planning to put a calendar page back in so folks can glance over the upcoming treatment list, and double-check times if they signed up for something.

This Week

I had a nice long Canada Day weekend away from treatments and pills. Any buildup of side effects I was feeling seemed to go away — aside from being tired. Assume at any given moment I am at least Kind Of Tired, all the way up to If I Stop Moving This Will Be Where I Sleep Tonight.

I continue to have great chats with wonderful drivers, getting to know some folks much more than I might have otherwise. I’ve complained already about the monotony of the drive, but it turns out there are plenty of little things to notice along the way. Like a creek being full when it was previously empty, or a graffiti tag on a mural where there hadn’t been one the day before. Or my personal favourite from the last week, a large drone hovering over a field and spraying the crops. Felt like we’d hopped forward in time.

The nausea slowly ramped up over the course of the week again but like other side effects it’s still at very manageable levels. I met a Nurse Practitioner during a midweek checkup who called me a “superstar” for the way my body was handling this whole thing so far.

That felt nice! However, I noticed that rather than experience gratitude in that moment, my mind went forward to the next week and immediately said “sure it’s good now, but it’ll get way worse before this is through.” I even said something like that out loud. And the NP cheerfully reminded me: there’s no reason to assume that! Why not be optimistic?

Which I’ve been rolling around in my mind, because I always thought I WAS an optimist! Unfortunately I’ve also noticed myself idly wondering if the treatments can really be working because, wouldn’t I be feeling worse if they were? Does the fact that I’m coping well mean that things aren’t progressing as they should? I know that isn’t logical, don’t worry. These are all just thoughts I’ve noticed.

Anyway, let me say for the record that I’m glad I’m doing as well as I am. I’m grateful. Thank you again to everyone who’s prayed or sent good vibes our way. We need them.

Looking Ahead

The last week was only 4 days of treatment, and this week we kick a 5-day week off with a Monday morning treatment at 7:35 a.m. Ouch.

11/25 radiation treatments, and 88/200 pills down. I’ll cross the halfway mark this week! As Mario (of the Nintendo Marios) is so fond of saying, “Let’s-a go!”

Today, my first round of treatments officially began. I took the first dose of chemotherapy medication after breakfast (4 pills down, 196 to go) and we got ready to head back to the CancerCare building near the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg. This will be where I go every weekday for the next month-and-a-bit.*

Once there, I did a quick check-in, a brief wait, and before I knew it I was on their table while they used my tattoos to align me with the lasers. The staff are efficient but pleasant and they complimented my socks, which had Game Boys and Tetris blocks on them and were indeed pretty great. Next, they left the room but monitored me through cameras and microphones in case I need anything, but in general I’m not to move for the next few minutes.

The machine buzzed and slowly rotated around me, and as promised, I didn’t feel a thing. Some music by Jack Johnson floated in from a CD player elsewhere in the room — a little out of place in a place of high tech and serious diagnoses, but still nice. And then: we were done!

I went back outside into the bright day, and then we were off to grab lunch and pick up my brother for a ride back to Winkler. We talked about cats and computers. After supper I took my second dose of chemo meds.

I feel almost no different, as expected. I know the effects of these treatments are cumulative and things will probably get worse before they get better. I’ve had some dark and anxious times in the past few weeks, but today was actually a good day and I felt cheerful and optimistic throughout. I had several messages of support this morning, and I know people are praying for us and thinking of us often. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: thank you all.

Just twenty-four more radiation treatments and a hundred and ninety-two pills to go!

*The opening ceremonies for the 2024 Summer Olympics happen to take place on the same day as my treatments end; I am going to pretend they are celebrating in my honour.

This week, we went on a road trip. Earlier this year we had been planning a trip to an indoor water park / resort in Minneapolis, called Great Wolf Lodge. When I got my diagnosis it seemed like we wouldn’t be able to go anymore, but suddenly we had a couple of weeks with no tests or consultations on the calendar. With the support and encouragement of doctors, nurses, and our kiddo’s teacher, we embarked on a compressed version of the trip we’d planned. 

It was exhausting and sometimes overwhelming, but totally worth it. Lori and I wanted some happy experiences for our family before things change due to my treatment schedule and its potential side effects. 

I’ll set my griping about theme resorts and capitalism to one side so I can talk about my picture. That’s me on a ropes course at the Lodge, in the middle of (slowly) making my way across a wobbly rope bridge. My daughter challenged me to try it after she’d gotten across herself. My balance is not great so my heart was racing. I had to focus on controlling my breathing. But I wanted to know that I could do the scary thing, and in the end, I did! 

(Epilogue: The upper level of the ropes course had trickier elements that neither of us were ready to try, so we called it quits after that. Do the scary thing, but know your limits, too 😅)

In less than a week I start daily radiation and chemotherapy treatments. It is also a scary thing and I cannot know how it will go for me, as everyone responds differently. But hey, I got across the rope bridge; a fancy flashlight and a couple of pills should be no problem! 

Well, I can hope so, anyway!

(Editor’s note: I’m still sort of figuring out my ‘voice’ when it comes to writing about my journey, so please forgive any wild swings in tone between posts)

This week I did the radiation simulation to prepare for my treatments later this month. After arriving at CancerCare Manitoba in Winnipeg, I was told to use the bathroom and then drink a fairly specific amount of water with a bit of contrast fluid inside. The amount of water — 325ml — will be a part of my daily treatments, as they want my bladder to be roughly the same size each time they irradiate me. After waiting an hour in their (comfortable, spacious) waiting area for the contrast to settle in, I was brought in for one more CT scan.

These images will help them shape the radiation beam when treating me, and it was also a trial run at aligning my body on the table. You can see laser lines in the second image that were for this purpose, but also, I got my first-ever tattoos; a tiny dot, the size of a freckle, on each hip. These are permanent, and will make it easier to get me lined up perfectly each day. 

Everyone we’ve met has been patient and gracious so far. I’m trying to reflect those qualities back!

In other news, folks can sign up to drive me to treatment appointments in Winnipeg! I’ve added a bunch of dates to the Calendar area of this site, and though June is covered, there are still several open days in July. If the promise of sparkling conversation isn’t enough, South Central Cancer Resource reimburses clients for mileage and parking, so I can pass that benefit along and offset some of your costs. Thanks One Million to them, and to the volunteers who have reached out to us so far! I’m honored!

On May 3rd, I underwent a colonoscopy that found a growth in my lower intestine, very near the exit. The doctor was extremely confident it was cancer, and the test results on the sample taken would later prove her correct: rectal cancer, stage 3.

While I had been experiencing relatively mild symptoms since the beginning of the year, this discovery certainly came as a shock. Our plans for travel, for home renovation, even for summer activities were upended as we faced a new reality of tests and treatments. We still grieve that other version of 2024.

As it stands, I am scheduled to begin radiation and chemotherapy simultaneously on June 20th, followed by another round of chemo and ultimately bowel surgery in which they will remove what remains of the growth. I’ve been told this cancer is serious but treatable, and we are aiming to eradicate it completely. 

A lot of new information has come at us pretty quickly, and it has been challenging to keep up and keep others in the loop. I knew right away that I didn’t want to take this journey alone, so this site is intended to have regular updates so folks can follow along with us as we go through this. 

These last few weeks have been a flurry of tests and consultations. Lori and I have treasured the moments of joy, calm, and connection in our home as we awaited a more definite treatment plan. We are continually humbled and encouraged by the words, deeds, thoughts, & prayers of folks supporting us. Thank you all so much!