️King's Highway 17, Highway 108 Turnoff to Echo Beach
My last solo adventure was a trip down King's Highway 17, starting at the turnoff to Elliot Lake and ending at at Echo Bay. The destination was adding a second oversized coin to my collection, the Giant Loonie at Echo Beach (the other in my collection is the Big Nickle in Sudbury, which is much bigger and more impressive). I visited a few landmarks, got pretty lost on some backroads without any cellular coverage at all, and found some artisanal sourkraut in a valley I didn't know existed.
The only thing I can recommend without reservation from this trip is a visit to the Black Bear Cafe on St. Joseph's Island, they had the finest buttertarts I've ever purchased and a lemon bar that I somehow managed to savour over a few improbable days.
The Loonie is just off the highway, though, so if silly roadside nonsense is your thing (like it is mine), then it's an easy thing to cross off your List Formally Known as the Remission List. The sourkraut was really good, and I'm upset I don't get to finish eating it, but I have no idea how to return to that location, so it's lost to us all.
A Cancerversary marks the anniversary of an important event in your cancer journey. August 2nd, 2022 marks the first time a doctor uttered the word and changed the direction of my life irrevecobly.
The Cancerversary is not a celebration of diagnosis, it's about survival. Cancer is a truly monstrous thing, and marking another year with it is good and right.
For my first Cancerversary, August 2nd, 2023, my best friend Lilly Hill helped me throw a tea party for some of my favourite plush friends. There were adult drinks (which i couldn't have, its hard on a liver already harmed by the cancer), tea, cake and, finally a fire in the evening.
It was a wonderil day of whimsy and make believe, the perfect escape from a reality that can be unkind. Plus, cake!
I've seen Cats (2019), conservatively, over 250 times. The Covid-19 layoff period was one of hyperfixation for me. Somehow, through all those viewings, my only partner was Thomasin, and I think she was more into our group watches for the quiet cuddles rather than the cinematic masterpiece.
One night in hospice we decided it was time to watch it. I was too afrade that people close to me wouldn't enjoy it that I didn't let them have the choice.
My youngest brother, Joseph, and my partner, Alicia, took the plunge with me, probably for the final time.
For me, some of the magic was gone. The warm glow of hyperfixation has long passed. I still adore the music the way I always have, still love the dedication to bisexual lighting, and still love the weird little story they crammed into a musical that did not need it. I remembered the hours I spent pouring over vintage maps of London, trying to figure out the geography of the world. After the movie was over, I listened to The Flop House Cats episode, just to draw out that feeling I'm hoping is a nontoxic nostalgia.
My partner and my brother both had a good time, too. It was fun to rehash the old talking points, all of which kind of come down to not a singe choice being made correctly during production. I don't think it'll end up on either of their top ten lists, but we were happy to share that particular bit of madness together.
I really lucked out that the software I chose at random for my digital scrap book had a perfect cover page for me. I get to choose joy and wonder and whimsy and to experience the beautiful madness of the world because of all of you supporting me throughout the whole of my cancer journey.
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Surviving cancer has been a long, hard process of identifying the demons that haunt the dark places in my life and befriending them.
First, I tried the disease itself. But that's too big. I still haven't gotten to the point of forgiveness to my own body for the betrayal it's put on me. But I have accepted it, and recognize it as an amoral force of nature.
My real first victory was over denial. Accepting the diagnosis was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't remember if it was the first or second chemo session that convinced me completely, but it was early. And for this I'm thankful, it let me jump right into the photo project which has enriched my life and delivered a tremendous amount of meaning to me. And maybe it'll help someone, too.
There have been dozens of little and big anxieties. I used to hate needles, now I have four perminant IVs in my limbs. Eighteen chemo cycles over two years is enough exposure for most. My treatment was repetitive, it's easy to make boring or anxiety like that.
A secret I only just started telling is that three days before the HIPEC surgery, when I had the consent forms filled out but hadn't sent them in, I very nearly didn't. I had won a minor duel with denial on routine stuff, but not when a dozen organs were on the line. But the fortitude I'd developed in eight months of treatment carried me through, and for my trouble I was gifted certainty. But not granted our desired outcome.
Befriending death is the difficult one. I've been working on it since accepting my diagnosis in September 2022 and since accepting my surgical fate in June 2023. I've come a long way. I know the form death will take (it's private, don't ask), and I know my last act will be to embrace it as a close friend. And I know that this will happen on their time, and I'm not ready yet.
There's more, so much more, buried in my Facebook wall (I've read it all for a project), but today I want to celebrate a small, but important for me, victory. The Antler's Hospice is a beautiful little album, perhaps nothing worth writing about these years later, but I like it's tragic beauty. I banned it from my playlist in 2022 because the central metaphor of a hospice was too much for me while coping with terminal illness.
Friends, I listened to that album straight through. In the cold dark of the hospice I've called home for over a month. My partner is in the next room, but she's asleep. And the nurses largely leave us alone after dark. It's just me, my headphones, the inky darkness of a Northern Ontario night, and the hum of my medical machines.
How I imagine it supposed to be listened to it.
I've become fast friends with Hospice again. I only hope this small victory can apply elsewhere. But if not, I have Kettering back. And thats beauty I want from the world.
From the comments
James Petrosky: The song I have forgiven for hitting too close to home. It's a beautiful and powerful song.
Brennan Moline: James Petrosky thank you as always for sharing powerful art that speaks to you
Gena Radcliffe: “I still haven’t forgiven my body for the betrayal it’s put on me. But I have accepted it, and recognize it as an amoral force of nature.”
This is beautiful, powerful, and deeply relatable.
James Petrosky: Gena Radcliffe it took me so long to get here, and it requires constant work as the cancer creates new nightmares, but it's given me so much peace and mental stillness.
Cathy Petrosky: You have taught this old lady so much. For this I am so grateful. 🥰
Dennis Dorion: Your mom is so right. This past, short 2 years will have changed so many lives. I hope in some way we can pay it forward. Each day is so precious. It is so easy to look at the big things and miss all the beautiful smalls. You have been able to capture all these smalls. I am beginning to see these smalls because of you. Thank you so much for being you. ❤️💜
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Today, my partner Alicia and brother Joseph watched Cats. This was both of their first times, and probably something around my 250th.
I hadn't watched it since before my diagnosis. I needed comforts like this more than ever, but with Cats I'm always terrified that the magic will have somehow evaporated. That I'll be left like the majority who panned it, stuck in a grayer world, lacking those beautiful neon alleys.
Cats' powerful sway over me is broken. My capacity for that obsession died the day I had to say out loud the words "it's cancer" to my parents, "stage four". But Cats is still a joy, a delight, a bright and colourful balm, and exactly what today needed.
BC (before Cats (2019))
AC (after Cats (2019))
From the comments
Brennan Moline: You are a much stronger man than me for being able to resist forcing your friends and family to watch your obsession. I know I forced Annette on more than a few folks
James Petrosky: Brennan Moline some things are just so close to you that you need to be forced to share with your loved ones. The fear of rejection has been too white hot, but I'm glad I overcame it today.
Brennan Moline: James Petrosky I understand that -- after some bad reactions to the aforementioned forced annette, I am much more hesitant now.
Jamie Piedmont Murgatroyd Teller: Brennan Moline you did the right thing
Brennan Moline: Jamie Piedmont Murgatroyd Teller By forcing Annette or being hesitant haha
Jamie Piedmont Murgatroyd Teller: Brennan Moline the former, the good news must be spread (it’s my favorite film of the decade so far)
Brennan Moline: Jamie Piedmont Murgatroyd Teller Fuck yes, so glad to meet another devotee of the baby Annette (who is a baby, afterall). It's among my favorite films of all time. It came at a time when I was feeling really weirdly sullen and pessimistic and slapped me out of nowhere as one of my new favorite movies. I even have a tattoo saying "Sympathy for the Abyss"
Cam Percy: Sharing Cats (2019) with someone for the first time is one of my favourite things to do. I'm so glad you got to do it today.
Cam Percy:
SKIM
BLE
SHANKS
THE
RAIL
WAY
CAT
James Petrosky: Cam Percy Skimble won't let anything go wrong, and that is a comforting thought
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Very occasionally, you can catch a perfect tinsel like strand of nostalgia. We embraced, shared, and parted as friends. It's the safe way to spend time with these ghosts.
(We had a group watch of Repo: The Genetic Opera and all felt it held up as a beautiful cult film, the way we did in university)
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
I'm no longer writing Cancer Selfies, that project didn't finish where I wanted or where I expected, but it did finish at the right place. People have used the final post (hospice, sticky on my profile) as a place to leave nice messages for me and my family, which I appriciate more than I can express. This is a good place for them. I've enjoyed reading them all, and keeping them together makes them easier to find in the future.
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Today I'm celebrating my second Cancervercery. I don't think that, as a birthday like holiday, it's likely to catch on with anyone else, but it's important to me.
It marks the anniversary of my diagnosis, celebrates the months and months enduring chemo and recovering from surgery. It's an opportunity for me to look back at all the things I've done while under the shadow of one of humanities greatest nightmares.
For my first Cancervercery, I threw a squishmallow tea party, complete with a decorated Cancervercery cake. Whimsy and silliness were powerful enough then to contain the horror.
For my second, and final, Cancervercery, that horror is unavoidable and inescapable. I've survived and thrived during my time in hospice, during the time when the processes of death itself could not be ignored. I've prepared a tour of my hospice life, complete with the digression and discussion everyone who knows me has come to expect. It's a long video, but a nice length for a visit (1.5 hours). It's extremely intimate and emotional. But I chose to make it, and I chose to publish it, and I'm choosing to share it here.
My first Cancervercery (this is a genuinely fun and joyful video)
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
Consider donating to St Joseph's Hospital in Elliot Lake, they do excellent work for a small community. They're working on improving their oncology area, which is very close to my heart. These improvements will allow more patients to recieve their treatment in the community they live in, rather than traveling two hours each way to the nearest cancer centre.
If you want to keep your money closer to home, then please consider donating to a hospice. The one here has given me and my family so much joy and comfort in a very difficult time in our lives time. I don't think I'd still feel as alive and vibrant, and I would not still be creating, without the care this hospice provides. Hospice is a gift we all deseve at our appointed hour.
The CT scan results were good. Most importantly, to me, there were no new growths visible on it. And existing growths have all reduced in size compared to August. Bonus good news! There were anomalies on my lungs back in August. They remain and are unchanged, so they're source is likely not this cancer. Extra bonus good news - the immune shot worked, my numbers are as good as they've been since I started chemo, and I won't need one this week (so I won't have bone pain next week).
This all matches how I've been feeling, so the super extra added bonus is that I can trust how my body's feeling again. Which may be normal for many, but I spent at least nine months where I was increasingly unable to. It's a nice thing to have to get used to again.
The bone pain was excruciating, second worst continuous pain I've ever felt in my life, but fortunately only lasted two days. And I was able to be active, it really only hurt when I tried to rest. I did all my Decemberween projects during the worst of it. Don't recommend, but I know what to expect next time, so I'm not afraid or anxious about facing it again.
I'm pretty open about almost everything I'm going through. For reasons I cannot explain, sharing extremely private information about my diagnosis, prognosis, etc., is second nature to me. It would feel strange for me not to share. But the fact that I'm stuck inside my apartment several days a week because of diharea (colloquially, although much of the time medically) seems to embarrassing or crass to share. But I'm feeling spicy today, so here's the facts: bowl cancer, chemotherapy, and more than a few of the other medications I'm on really screw things up, I keep immodium on my person at all times (and have since the spring). I've made it work, but I've missed out on a lot of stuff I've wanted to do (nothing planned, but nice days for walls and such).
Humans will adjust to damn near anything.
From the comments
James Petrosky: In case you're wondering: it's as delightfully soft and squishy as it looks. 10/10 strong recommend
Today I visited the Midland hospital for a CT scan. Next week I should hear back about the results. This is how we're going to learn how well the treatment has been working.
I'm excited, and cautiously optimistic, for the results. I need to remind myself that I'm on a palliative chemotherapy cocktail. That the goal is quality of life, not to rid me of the cancer. The best case scenario, the scenario I hope for, is that existing tumors have shrunk and that no further spreading has occurred. None of that is guaranteed, but I feel good, physically and mentally, and I'm allowing myself the risk of disappointment on this.
I have an appointment with the surgical oncologists at Mt. Sinai in early January, they are much more experienced at interpreting this sort of scan than the medical oncology team in Barrie is, so even though I'll learn a lot next week, I'll still have to wait another month before I'll learn a fuller story.
Cycle six! That means, according to the very flexible plan that exists right now, I'm half done chemotherapy for this batch. There could be more right away, there could (hopefully) be surgery, there could be a break from all treatment. But whatever it is, whatever comes next, this is a milestone.
The neutrophil boosting shot was much, much less terrifying and unpleasant than I feared it would be. I think by the third one I might be able to administer it myself. So far I've only felt a touch of drowsiness for side effects, but I expect to wake up tomorrow in a fairly unpleasant state. Still, better than getting sick from otherwise harmless bacteria that live on all our skin.
Chemo was harder this time than last time, but still much, much easier than those first few. Thomasin stayed with me most the whole time, and we enjoyed some old noirs together. It wasn't the easiest week, mental health wise, but I'm still in a good position to stay the course, which is the important thing.
From the comments
James Petrosky: I'm not that red, my monitor was magenta when I took this photo and I didnt notice until just now
In September, this was the end point. Theoretically. I was pretty sure we were going to twelve from the start, but I'm still going to celebrate this milestone.
Also, the immune boosting drug costs 1700CAD for enough to cover a full course of chemo for me (six dosages). I have no idea how much it actually costs to produce, so I have no idea if that's fair. What I know isn't fair is that people under 65 are expected to have that money (or a drug plan) or just delay their lifesaving treatment. Either way, I got lucky, I have my dose, I'm set, all I have to deal with is a needle in the belly. Which honestly sounds like a nightmare.
From the comments
James Petrosky: Me posing with my "baby bottle" take home chemotherapy. It's the bad one, the one that makes me most sick, the one that makes my mouth taste slightly terrible as long as I have it. But it gives me more good days to spend with the people that matter, doing the things I love, and petting the softest/biteiest cat I know, so it's worth it.
Today I found out that my immune numbers had finally fallen past the point where something has to be done. I had the option to delay my treatment a week and allow it to recover, or start another drug that's designed to do the same.
I chose the drug. There are too many appointments, especially my CT scan Monday, that would be either too much effort to reschedule, or would not be able to be scheduled soon enough. I'm extremely unenthusiastic about a needle in the belly, but it's better than getting sick from the bacteria that naturally live on me all the time.
The drug is also the first time I'm going to have to pay for my treatment. Were I 65, OHIP would completely cover it. Because the whole system is designed for a specific sort of person getting treatment for cancer. My work plan covers it, so no one needs to worry about me in this regard, and without the CT scan so close I might have opted to wait an extra week, just to see what it would be like.
From the comments
James Petrosky: I've already been only visiting stores during off hours and have next to no in person social contact. I've been essentially acting like I was in this situation since September. The Covid-19, influenza and assorted childhood disease situation locally is more than a bit alarming, but I'm doing what I can to keep myself safe and there is no need for any worry on my behalf.
James Petrosky: Oh! Also, side effect of new drug is bone pain. Which is the least pleasant sounding combination of two words I've heard in a very long time.
Mica: I love when healthcare systems say you're too young to have the disease you have. 🙄 Like, thanks I'm cured
James Petrosky: A side effect of electing mostly old politicians I guess. More seriously, the whole system kind of assumes an older patient. And all I've seen are older.
I visited the Toronto zoo with my partner today ❤️ It was a good day, but I learned how much by ability to produce and retain body heat has been affected.
Rhino
Assorted geese
This fish hid behind a pillar for five minutes and I just wanted to be friends
