Cancer Selfies

Fed is Best: The Taco Bell Quest

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

Scrap-Book Post

My final southwest adventure for now

A day of adventure! But uncharacteristically, I didn't take a lot of photos. The adventuring was centred around Goderich, Ontario (which is a pretty town with a beautiful Lake Huron waterfront, a roundabout at the centre of town with a courthouse in the centre, and some pretty waterfront industry (to my eyes), also a lighthouse which was on the todo list).

I met a friend for lunch in Fordwich (a tiny town I didn't know existed until yesterday). Then traveled to Goderich, then up to Kincardine where I met another lighthouse and experienced the sublime beauty of the world waiting for possibly the worst hot chocolate I've ever had. Finally I traveled to Hanover for dinner, which I had at a casino, so I guess I also visited my first casino today. I won by not playing.

Much more importantly, I saw so many cows (with their poodle sized calf), dozens of sheep with their little lambs, a field full of mini goats (a highlight of the day), many dogs and, a kilometer from home, a cute tabby cat. I regret to inform you all that I still have not met a corgi.

Finding That Song

I know there's no controlling when you're going to be struck by the beauty of the world and the finality of our mortality, but a Tim Hortons in Kincardine with a knock off Nickelback song playing is a touch ridiculous

(We later figured out the song must be That Song by Big Wreck)

From the comments

James Petrosky: I spent half an hour looking out over Lake Huron (main body, not Georgian Bay) for over half an hour, but of course things come over me in the dumbest and least interesting place I've been all day

Ëmmy Smäll: first of all I love all of this, second of all Huron is the only Great Lake I haven’t seen yet but lakes always put me in a place I couldn’t attempt to explain but I get it

James Petrosky: Ëmmy Smäll I was out in that part of the province to have lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in a while, and the beach spot was specifically recommended. It was worth an hour trip out of my way

James Petrosky: But then I wanted to see a lighthouse and ended up further out of my way in Kincardine

James Petrosky: So anyways I can check off "have a good cry in a Tim Hortons parking lot" from my list of required Canadian experiences

Carolyn Coney: James Petrosky an incredibly Canadian moment (tm)

Final Taco Bell

Someday I'll remember that just because all choices are bad, it doesn't mean some can't be much worse.

This is a post about Taco Bell

From the comments

James Petrosky: This is not a political post, but you're forgiven for thinking that.

Christianne Manzano: This post is VERY disrespectful to the Steak Chalupa Supreme.

Good news from the urologist

Cycle 11, Day 6

Good news from the urologist - no cancer there. We didn't really suspect there would be, but solid proof is still nice to have.

Photos from the shoreline in Wasaga Beach, which has transformed into a delightful floating ice field.

End of course one CT scan

Cycle 6, Day 6

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.

Good days pay for the chemo days

Cycle 3 Day 10

We're getting what's likely to be a final reprieve before the winter descends upon us, and I intend to take best advantage of it.

Back at the start of this, I said the currency you spend is the feeling of normal. We left normal behind months ago. The new currency is the little experiences I can jam into my good days. Seeing a raccoon, petting a dog, talking to someone I haven't seen in a while (or have, and want to talk to again), interacting with all of you. Little things. And I need to save up enough so I can pay the toll and make it through The Chemo Days.

Ending cycle 2

Cycle 2 Day 14

I spent a few hours at the cancer centre today, having my once per cycle checkup with the oncologist, and getting blood drawn to monitor a few things, most importantly to me immune system counts (mine are pretty good, given my situation). While there I once again browsed the library of pamphlets. I counted twenty five different specific cancer type pamphlets, only four had photos of people who might have been my age. Three of the four were reproductive cancers. The remainder, including colon, featured people decades older.

I'm very tired, my mood has fallen a bit, but I'm ready to start Cycle 3.

Sweater weather forever

Cycle 2 Day 10

Its Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, and we're having our turkey dinner tonight. We rarely have it on Monday, the day Thanksgiving actually falls, because you have more non work days to eat delicious leftovers. This time, it's not work, but the start of Cycle 3 on Thursday, that motivates celebrating early.

To my Canadian friends, I hope you have the Thanksgiving you dream of.

To my non Canadian friends, have a wonderful weekend.

From the comments

James Petrosky: Another of the poodles on their own

James Petrosky: The menacing October sky of Lake Huron

James Petrosky: Thanksgiving dinner round these parts (this little cottage, specifically, and not necessarily anywhere else) is a roasted turkey served with fresh (never canned, canned was served at a family gathering once years ago and that faux pas is still talked about), mashed potatos, dressing (no stuffing is served), gravy, boiled turnip and steamed green beans. Peas often replace the beans, but we found some fresh ones this week.

Unfortunately neither of my brothers, nor my partner, could make it. But we do the best with who we have (namely, my parents and the poodles)

James Petrosky: In case you were wondering what we watch on tv during and after dinner, is the United States National Park Service Alaskan bear cam and a collection of webcams in Siberia.

James Petrosky: Sunset at Woodland Beach

Tomorrow I visit Mt. Sinai

Cycle 2, Day 7

Tomorrow I meet the second oncology team. I cannot possibly express how anxious I am. If I am accepted for surgery (which i won't find out tomorrow) and if it goes exceedingly well, I could be free and have an almost normal life. But that's a lot of ifs. And I'm terrified that I'm not going to be a good candidate. And everything that entails. But I'm trying to stay hopeful, and if absolutely nothing else I'll know a lot more tomorrow by this time.

(What I don't need or want is any false assurances right now. I don't need to be told to stay positive, my moods are stable and toxic positivity is as dangerous as negativity. The best way to show support for me over the next day is with photos of adorable or delightful things and creatures. Please respect my wishes in this, but also please don't come down on anyone who doesn't see all this right away or interprets it differently. I'm an adult and I'll engage as I feel the need to. I love you all)

From the comments

James Petrosky: I edited the one photo I said I wasn't going to and now I really like it so I'll just shove it here

I already know cycle two will be easier

Cycle 1 Day 14

Tomorrow starts Cycle 2. There will likely be six cycles, then some more testing, and then we'll know how well all of this is working.

I'm feeling a lot more calm and comfortable this time. I've got a good idea what's coming (three days of barely getting out of bed, one or two more feeling pretty rough), but I know I can expect the rest of the cycle to bring some energy and a lot more joy than I've been used to the previous couple of months.