I never had a phase in high school where I experimented with my look very much. Never dyed my hair, never experimented with makeup, never even really changed up my clothing style until after I graduated from university. It's not that I didn't want to (for differing amounts of want), it's that I wasn't brave enough to take the plunge.
I recieved my last prepandemic hair cut in December 2021 (I always tried to clean up a bit for Christmas) and, when I first met my medical oncologist in late August 2022, I'd grown quite the head of hair. And that I was likely to lose it during treatment.
My partner and I picked the blue that I was supposed to end up with, and Lilly Hill and I set to work transforming my brown hair (accidentally, beautifully) green.
In hindsight, this is the first item crossed off the Remission List. Something I had long wanted to do that I needed the excuse of cancer to finally push myself into. Learning to paint my nails slots in here nicely, too. Doubly so because chemotherapy weakens your nails and raises risk of them falling off if you aren't caredul.
It helped set the stage for accomplishing every difficult or embarrassing or otherwise challenging thing I'd face at least until at least the time I'm writing this: I need to have the strength and stubbornness to say yes, to be willing to chase after the things that are important or joyous or worthwhile for me, but I can borrow a whole lot of that strength and skill from the people I'm lucky enough to have in my life.
And I'm very lucky to have all of you in my life, in whatever little capacities we can exchange
I maintained my weight during my full course of my chemotherapy treatment. From September 2022 until this spring, I fluctuated 2kg around a stable average. I am genuinely proud of this, and credit much of my end game physical resilience to this fact.
Lilly introduced me to the wonders of Taco Bell, the kind of wonderful place where ordering one of everything is possible, fun and not too outrageous (even if I never did it). The kind of place where those life giving calories are easy to eat. There were other fast food restaurants that I went to more, that contributed more to my stability, but Taco Bell was special.
Our two nearest locations were about a half hour away, which is the perfect length for one of those conversations I only seem to be have on road trips. We'd always get the same things (Delux Box + Crunchwrap Supreme for me, Taco Bell leftovers do great in a toaster oven)., but always talk the options.
We went to real restaurants, too.. More sushi than I can recall, pho, wings and everything we could find in the area, but it's the Taco Bell, and the little adventures it required, that is the strongest, most joyful of the mundane memories I call back on when the cancer pain strikes.
The nearest Taco Bell is in a mall in Sudbury. Two hours away. A doable distance, but it would never work with my nasal tube. I'm forever cut off, but the memory of food and friends is more than strong enough to keep me going
I've been discharged, I'm home. We're pretty much where we were on Monday. I've got instructions on how to manage this new condition, but managing is all there is to do. There is no cure, no further treatment. This is just another part of my life now.
Not sure if I'm more tired of the pain or being extremely high all the time.
From the comments
James Petrosky: Someone in the room has decided that we would all love to hear their country music. I made sure to pack multiple pairs of headphones so I wouldn't accidentally expose anyone to dinosaur podcasts. I'm extremely frustrated but unable to do anything about it
Saint-Louis Mission National Historic Site is located in Tay Township, Ontario, just outside of Midland, Ontario. It consists of a monument, two plaques, and a small area of cut grass in a forest. Nearby is a monument to an early Anglican Church. I visited sites in Tiny and Springwater as well, but none had much worth talking about.
I haven't felt this good in months. My pain levels, while still much higher than my pre cancer baseline, haven't been this good in months. I have energy, apatite, drive. Chores are caught up, projects are being done, hobbies being perused. But there's so much to do before Cycle 2 starts Thursday.
Laundromat selfies are practically a requirement now
Its fucking wimdy
From the comments
David: So you can do this ?
James Petrosky: David I'm going to keep going for sure. It's not a war or a battle, it's a seige. I'll hold as long as I can.
James Petrosky: I saw my poodle pal today ❤️
It was almost too dark for her goofy face
Cycle one is drawing to a close and I have A Lot of appointments this week. And I know I'll be bedridden for the first five days of cycle two at least, so there's a lot to do. But for now, I keep busy, I work on projects, I find water birds in new and exciting places. It's not the life I expected, but I'll still make it mine.
Public art in downtown Midland, Ontario
Honestly I think I like loons more than geese, they're a magnificent and haunting bird, geese are just what we deserve. Also, I absolutely love geese as much as I say I do. My love for loons is passionate, but silent.
A nice thing about being a trades person is having excellent practical outer wear. Balm Beach has no street lights, but I was extremely visible (dancing badly to Firework, no less) and completely dry.
I think I look sad here, and I have many reasons to, but I don't remember why specifically. I think it's the laundromat, and I've just gotten off the phone with a nurse at the Barrie Regional Cancer Center. I've said multiple times that the currency of this past month has been normalcy, and few things ruin your sense of normal like that sort of phone call.
It was almost too dark for her goofy face
