Learning From 2016

Welcome to 2017 and another year of being cancer free with determination to remain so.

Looking back, I'd say 2016 was a year of learning. With the chemotherapy I had in 2011 came an issue with my left ventricle. Seems it's "ejection fraction" is going down, from normal pre-chemo to 48% in 2014 to 40% in 2016. I've learned not to grab the pack loaded with yams and frozen meat and instead take the one with the toilet paper and bread  as I attempt to scurry uphill to our cabin on the mountain. Is that a train coming behind me? Why am I so winded? Maybe I should lessen the scurry to a gang-plank walk. More learning...

I am still in monthly massage therapy to deal with whiplash issues and about twice a year Robin or Caitlin (Willow Massage Therapy in Smithers BC) help stretch out the scar tissue that re-binds every so often in my second armpit (from lymph node removal/mining in 2011). It's never a fun hour with these ladies as they dig deep and work hard to loosen up the hard lumps that refuse to go away quietly. Is that a screaming meme behind me? Why am I so sore? Anything to do with carrying packs up a mountain in the first place? Hmm...more learning.

Because I am still numb on the right side of the repaired breast area as well as beneath my right arm, I have learned that constant stretching helps everything work better. The hope is I can regain more mobility faster. When on skis I don't use my right hand to push with my poles on the flats, saving it for when I really need it (in the lounge later) for skiing downhill, shoveling snow off our deck or refilling the melted-snow pots for the wood stove. No lessening these jobs- you have to keep active so I've learned to accommodate, compensate and prioritize. It's working.

In 2016 I took a WHYMS course to learn about hazardous materials. I then ran around my house and properly labelled mysterious substances I had in unmarked bottles. Inspired, I next took on the Level 1 Food Course so I wouldn't kill anyone with my canning or cross-contamination habits anymore. New plastic color co-ordinated cutting boards. Learning and shopping- love it!

 Then it was hours job shadowing at the Hudson Bay Mountain ski school for my Level 1 ski instructor certificate which I obtained by going to Shames Mountain in December of 2016! That's right folks, not only an author but now I'm making $12 something an hour introducing people to what I consider to be the most fun sport of all time. Sliding on the snow with boards on your feet. What a joy to watch the lights go on for people struggling. To watch them when they catch on. To help them up when they fall  on top of me. Lesson learned? Wear rental skis when teaching beginners.

Now if I could get people to learn from what I've been through with cancer.

Authoring Running From Cancer was a labour of love to help people learn ways to lessen their cancer lottery tickets. Are you doing what you can? Are you on daily vitamin D supplements, taking any anti-oxidents like green tea capsules or fish oils, ground flax seeds and beefing -up the broccoli consumption?

Life is about learning, everyone. Never stop. And may you learn enough soon enough to make it through a long happy life! Happy 2017 to everyone.

Five Year Mark

In the world of breast cancer it is said if you don’t have a recurrence with-in five years , chances are the cancer has been “beaten” and there’s renewed hope to live as long as one can after surviving treatment. So I’m ecstatic to shout out to the world that I made that mark in May 2016, not believing that it’s been that long already! Life has returned to relative normalcy with the wondrous addition of my dream-come-true of not one but two healthy and beautiful grandchildren. Life is so worth fighting for.


For those of you who don’t know me but have read my book Running From Cancer: a tilted memoir, here’s the epilogue:


Once the surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation were completed, it was recommended to go on a hormone blocking therapy for five years. This is usual practice. My oncologist put me on the standard called Tamoxifin , a drug used for non-menopausal women . After one year on Tamoxifen, it was proven that the chemo had brought on early menopause and so I was now qualified to switch to a drug called Letrozole*. (Tamoxifin can be carcinogenic and I was afraid of being one of the few who experienced endometrial cancer from taking it)


Both drugs gave me the side effects of hot flashes and aching joints. I felt like I was over 100 when getting out of bed most days and driving with the window down at -30C was something my husband endured every road trip, but we continued with the drug treatment feeling a little more hopeful that the cancer would not return.


There are others drugs out there to try but I decided to stick it out with Letrozole. The severity of both symptoms either waned over time or I became more oblivious to them. I’m not sure which is
the right answer, but take heart that they do seem to lessen over time.







The breast reconstruction done the year after chemo and radiation was very successful. Dr. Kurz of Prince George placed an expander inside the deflated right breast which was injected to capacity with saline by my GP at regular intervals over the next few months. I compared it to having braces on your teeth. Once filled, the skin would gradually stretch to accommodate the new size. Then it would be filled again. Once the deflated breast was inflated back to normal, Kurz was able to choose a correlating silicone implant to surgically replace the expander with. While operating, Kurz thankfully put a tuck into the left breast raising it up to match the repaired right breast. The result was a firmer, higher riding pair of breasts which if one didn’t see the scars around the nipple and a bit of loose ridges along the outer bottom right, you would think I was thirty (not fifty plus) and hadn’t had two children or a wrangle with breast cancer. I highly recommend this surgery as something to check into even though not everyone is satisfied with their results.I have friends who raved about their procedure but have a friend who was not happy at all. Her expectations were not met and I realized not everyone has the same situation to be dealt with. Still, with the BC Medical covering costs, it couldn’t harm having that first consult.



So, with perky boobs healed and my self image repaired, I turned to what I could do to improve my lifestyle to help insure I made that five year goal. I tweaked my diet to include as many vegetables as I could into every day. I snack twice a day making healthier choices of whole grains, proteins and oils like coconut, avocado or extra virgin olive oil when possible. I only have a few drinks a week in stead of 20 to 35 and I take an antioxidant supplement as well as 2000 mg of vitamin D daily. I try to get exercise , even if its a walk around the block, six days a week and I make sure to drink plenty of fluids to help my body properly work.


And the day came that I went to refill my Letrozole prescription and realized, “I don’t have to take that anymore!” So I don’t. I’m happy to say that all tests are clear and I’ve officially “survived cancer.” Now I will wear the special yellow t-shirt saved for the Canadian Cancer Society’s survivor participants with pride because I made it out the other side and feel stronger for it. At the gym this week, I tweaked the treadmill up to a number I hadn’t ran at since 2011, when cancer first came knocking. My fist shot into the air as my legs flew like the wind and I thought to myself, “I’m back. Smarter, wiser and more determined to keep myself healthy!” Then I turned the number back down slightly. It’s time to start going at an easier pace because this body is all I have and I need it to last another 18 years. The new me is going to keep that in mind at all times. Less stress, less having to reach to the top of everything, less trying so hard all the time. It’s time to slow down and enjoy what’s left of my life (which doesn’t mean I’ve quit trying to fit 400 things into one day. I now think about the 400 and get 300 done). And it’s all good, you know?


What ever was my hurry in the first place? Here’s to “Staying Alive Until ‘75!” Now to remember to look both ways before crossing the street!

Saying Yes Again to Soy

Soy and Breast Cancer       

Something I’ve been avoiding for the past five years of my breast cancer remission are soy products. Specifically soy sauce, tempeh, soy milk, edamame beans and tofu ; basically anything with high levels of what I was told would be an estrogen elevator. Okay, I’ll admit I was never a big fan of any of it unless it seasoned my Chinese food, but still...there was an edamame bean craze I had to curb and I did worry about the dark brown liquid I used in salad dressings and stir frys quite often.

Having had a hormone driven cancer, (both progesterone and estrogen meaning my tumor had been fed specifically by these culprits), I had been advised to curb these products.  Now new evidence is saying using these products may actually suppress the chance of developing cancer. 

I recently discovered an article at www.oncologynutrition.org donated by Diana Dyer MS, registered dietician and a three time cancer survivor that discusses this “Soy Fear” and all that it means.

Seems that soy products do contain “phytoestrogens” , which led many to believe soy contains estrogen.But the term phytoestrogen simply means the chemical structures in soy products resemble natural female estrogen, thus the “phyto.”

There is no estrogen in natural soy foods. And ...

Tests of thousands of women over many years showed those who ate soy regularly had a lower chance of contracting breast cancer. Or experiencing a recurrence. The study did admit it was possible that women who ate things like Tofu or soy milk might already be prone to healthier than normal lifestyle practices.

I can see where they’re going with that. We used to call the vegan and tofu enthusiasts“Granolas.” Nothing wrong with it, it just seemed to be a certain hippy-thing which went hand-in-hand with floor length skirts, smoking pot and free love. Granolas were often fond of a diet rich in tofu, nuts and seeds, fruits and home grown vegetables while the rest of us ate everything we could get our hands on: the unhealthier the better. 

But the study further admits that while it might not be able to prove soy protects against breast cancer, it can say that it didn’t contribute to a higher rate of breast cancer. And amen to that! The article also cautions that soy “supplements,” and isoflavone enriched products were not part of the study. Maybe best to avoid them until further testing.

So my never-ending quest for a dietary regime that will help me to reach my goal of “staying alive til ‘75” has brought me back to considering the meat alternative Tofu. No more excuses. The next question is how to get this past my hunter husband. My next research will be on How to DisguiseTofu as a moose steak or deer burger. 

TAKING TIME FOR TIME

At the tick of the New Year 2016 I was standing in an elegantly decorated hall in Balzac Alberta with close to a hundred of our friends , family and people close to my son to celebrate his marriage. To count blessings, the room also held our other children, their spouses and our first two grandchildren born within the past 4 months. My father, having recovered fully from a hip replacement in April, was dancing with my ex husbands older sister and all around me people were smiling and cheering the new year and I remember thinking how fast everything was going. The carousel was hitting mach one.The night was ending and I didn't have enough time to say what I wanted to my family, to get to know the new faces, to cherish each breath of the newborns.

Funny that 2015's blog started with talk about procrastination and sluggishness. It felt that way at the time. There was no energy. No insight or willingness to dream about what might be coming. Things stayed that pace until August when the first grandchild arrived a week early followed two months later by another grandchild born three weeks early. This wedding was the cherry on the top but it still threw everything into high gear and after the months of prepping and sorting and planning then doing and being and repacking and leaving, we were careening the same way we'd come only this time westward down the highway at breakneck speed on our way home to the place where things do get sluggish and where we can procrastinate again, if we want.
Already imagining soaking in our hot tub with cold drinks and memories to rehash, we were violently slammed into a reality check with the twist of a steering wheel, the holler of "we're going to hit that truck..." the airborne stop sign , the hood of our vehicle slamming up against the windshield while feeling the suburban fly downwards, our heads whipping forward then back, and the landing in a field. A man standing outside his home on the ground before us stood mouth agape, a saw in his hand. His look reflected the shock I was feeling. Did that just happen?

I clawed off my seat belt, throwing my arms around my husband's neck, thanking him for saving our lives before hustling out of our vehicle terrified of what I might see back on the highway. A white PNG gas truck, the one we came so close to smashing into the passenger side of, sat facing the middle of the highway with the tailgate on the ground, the back side smashed in and the box contents  of screwdrivers, gas meters and battery packs strewn for yards. A long highway truck with a full load of lumber that had first hit and pushed the  left-turning eastbound PNG truck in front of us lie in the east bound ditch, load askew and front grill of the truck smashed in.

It turned out that once we opted to bail into a field instead of  t-boning the PNG truck, the west bound flat deck highway hauler cruising at 90 kmh behind us had a clean path to smash the PNG truck on it's hind end spinning it around before the tailgate fell off. We came so close to being the roadkill filler between the two vehicle sandwich!

Within three minutes all four drivers were standing cell phones to ear in a semi-circle, all shaking their heads in disbelief that no one had been hurt beyond whiplash or bruising.

And here I sit six days later still in awe of the fact that all of that forward momentum could end so abruptly. Months of fast forward was slowed to a panel by panel sequence at the first pump of adrenaline.

You're driving down a highway thinking about the week that lies ahead. You're flying through the air. You're still.

I'm breathing.
Tick tick.
 OK.
 He's breathing.
Tick tick.
 OK.
What's next?
Tick tick.
Seat belt.

Two seconds that slowed to seem like five minutes. I could tell you every detail within that tiny stretch of space and time.


 And for what purpose does our body do that to us; to slow down time like that? Or is it possible that's the way things really are? Maybe life really does move in slow motion? Maybe all time can be freeze-framed second by second if we choose to stop and look at it that way. Does there have to be a major catastrophe for us to slow things down and really see every second?

I'm thinking the problem is we don't want to slow things down to that speed. Or more precisely, we don't HAVE time to. Not until time makes us take it. And thankfully my husband and I didn't run out of time. We were merely given a chance to appreciate the fact that we had any time at all.

This greater appreciation of my time and what's left of it, is just the catalyst I need to get back on track to make the most of it. Procrastination and sluggishness were a part of 2015.

I have a feeling with a start like this, they won't be a problem in 2016.

Happy New Year everyone. Please "drive to survive."
xo

Sshhh...It's A Secret

I recently had to keep a secret at the request of one of our children. Being good news, I was overwhelmed at how hard it became not to blurt it out at every encounter with a friend or loved one. Oh heck, to anyone and EVERY one!

Any discussion about it with my husband was short-lived. He hates nattering  so I couldn't dissect and relish over every bit of the news. Within hours, I found myself bursting at the seams. Like being filled with helium and unable to burp, the sensation swelled and grew until I feared for the worst .
That was Day One With a Secret.

I tried imagining telling- to visualize it in my head without actually executing the task. That picture in my head ballooned comic style into my sister saying, "what...and you didn't tell me?" which ended in a short e-mail to her where a little leak kind of snuck out of my fingers in an expletive kind of moment. Blah...blah...Baby... OOPS!! Had I said that out loud? But really, it was my SISTER who has a government job where keeping secrets is mandatory.This secret was safe with her and the relief of having shared such extreme joy diffused the explosion I was sure would come.

Still, within minutes of sharing, the guilt crept up and began to choke me. There was No excuse for betraying that confidence.My head hung: my husband always said I couldn't keep a secret. How embarrassing. Maybe he wouldn't find out about that e-mail? (Funny because wouldn't that be another secret I would have to try to keep?)  Aghast and sorely disappointed in myself, I tightened my resolve NOT to tell anyone else. I could do this even against the odds our kids were probably betting.
That was Day Two With a Secret.

Determined to re-kindle my promise not to tell, I decided it easier to avoid people than it was to try keeping my mouth shut. But,  now being on the ski hill for the next four days made that impossible as you find friends at every turn, every chair lift or t-bar.So I would say things like, "One of these days, probably very soon, I might find out I'm going to be a (cough) Grandma.
Then I got too brave and said to my girlfriend who knew the daughter and the situation "that I can show you something but I can't tell you anything" before presenting the e-mailed photo evidence which bore the name of the recipient in the high left hand corner.
Day Three ended with a firm mental whipping. I am such a lousy secret keeper. I should be put in the middle of the town square and stoned (with rotten fruit, not real rocks)!

Day Four ended with news that I was free to share the joy, although not on FaceBook. (Does a blog count, I wonder? Am I in trouble again?) Ahhh, such relief. Almost like reaching the end of the trip and finally using the washroom. Ahhh.

I share this tale of woe with you because whether you have good news or bad news to share, sometimes it can help to tell just a little bit. Especially if that secret is keeping you awake, stressing you out or having you do extreme things to avoid telling (like avoiding your friends). If the secret is something you absolutely don't want others to know, the only thing you can do is share with complete strangers or NOT tell it in the first place to anyone. Because as sure as there are secrets in the world, there are people who cannot keep them. Like the characters in the Soap Operas. And okay, like me.

Now, if you want my advice on something and need to tell me a private thing, THAT I can and will keep a secret. What's the difference? The difference is knowing what could happen if the story were to get out.

My news was good and wouldn't hurt anyone to know so it was very hard to keep. You want to make everyone else's day as happy as yours. With bad news, you don't want to ruin anyone's day so you want to keep that to yourself . Maybe it's a cancer diagnosis or nasty test result, a death or a horrible situation: the first reaction is often to keep it to ourselves. In the old days, everything was private. Suffering was encouraged to be done quietly behind closed doors. These days, we share and talk about everything. No holds barred. We talk about incest and abuse, we talk about our cancers and our prostates and now there is help and information available. You only have to come out of the closet to get it.
Besides, the relief of sharing news can be enormous and possibly even beneficial. "A grandma? Have you heard about the latest self-help book on becoming the best grandma in the world?" Get the idea?

So, sometimes keeping a secret completely isn't the best thing. Turns out "Grandpa" didn't have much luck keeping it in either. And yes, you're right, that doesn't excuse a thing.But, did you know...I'm going to be a Grandma? Sshhh...

Scenting Sensibly

My post cancer regime of cutting down on as many toxins as possible has made one remarkable change in

my life. I have regained my sense of smell, something I never realized was missing until I found it again.

After CT scans, radiation therapy and the ensuing mammograms, I consider myself lucky not to be a Wicked Witch of the West  shade of shimmering green. I can't do much about the radiation I have been given but I can resolve to be smarter about what I put in, on and around my body.




After reading the David Suzuki's Top Ten  Dirty Dozen list of substances to avoid, (http://www.davidsuzuki.org/issues/health/science/toxics/dirty-dozen-cosmetic-chemicals/) I began to take a reality check through-out my bathroom and kitchen cupboards.I couldn't believe how many toxic products I was using!

So many that I couldn't afford to simply trash them all and start over, but since ending treatments four years ago, I began to transform my collection of beauty and cleaning aids with healthier choices. The easiest and probably most important was throwing out my chemical immersed dryer sheets for hard plastic re-usable dryer balls. I use one plastic ball and one Norwex  wool dryer ball to completely eliminate static cling a more health-friendly way. Between them and the unscented natural cold water laundry soap I insist upon using, there is nothing but clean clothes travelling with me and my skin every day. That same skin is washed with a coconut all natural salt scrub and my deodorant and hair gel are also all natural and unscented. which means head-to-toe I only retain a slight coconut aroma. Not the usual cacophony of  five-to-seven over-scented products between hair, make-up and skin products. Start thinking about it. How many aromatic products are you sporting every day? Would you have ever guessed that this onslaught of scents is slowing down that sniffer of yours? (Then again, maybe it's for the best if you're really piling them on?)

 It took a bit of talking myself into omitting that daily shot of "Angelic"(pseudonym) between my breasts and just slightly south of my navel every morning and the slathering of Angelic cream onto my arms and legs, the dusting of Angelic body powder across the bee-hind but before long, I realized those extra few minutes every day could all add up to a second cup of perk-me-up ( called Bengal Spice tea by Celestial and it's the best Chai tea you've ever sipped without the sweetener or caffeine). On top of giving my skin a chance to breathe, I was reducing my scent over-load; something I'd been reading was a no-no when entering hospitals and clinics, places I am still prone to frequent.

Sometimes I find my "new" self being overwhelmed by the smells around me. In a restaurant, my nose goes crazy with my brain in hot pursuit as I try to discern a fragrance. I can tell a smoker from a non-smoker at a dozen paces which might be a handy tool IF I was a life insurance agent. I can often tell if you own a pet (other than a fish) and sometimes what you cooked for dinner last night (especially if it was a fish).

 This new realization of all the smells drifting in the air helped me relate to people with scent allergies. Some scents are enough to reduce me to coughing and gagging fits, red, watery eyes and sneezing. All because someone ELSE wanted to smell like something else.Or maybe didn't know that something smells so strong to someone else.

I wonder how animals manage these smells with senses much more amplified than ours? A dog has 220 olfactory receptors to a human's five.

Of course the market is loaded with naturally scented products but again, few are delicately scented, instead giving you a full blast of their lavender, orange or ginger alternatives.So there's coconut in your hair, lavender on your skin, orange counter top spray, lemon scented window cleaner and linen-scented air freshener. Even the all-natural aromas can be bothersome when mixed together, like a cereal bowl of cherries, flowers, lemon juice and cotton. Mmmm. Not.

 Remember the good old days when there was pure soap and the only other smelly thing in the house was cinnamon buns? Cleaning was done with vinegar, baking soda and water. Okay and maybe a little lye. Not the healthiest option there either.

Sometimes the best smelling things are simply the fresh air in your hair, the rain water on your clothes hung from a line or the sunshine on your skin. Could it be so easy to smell so good?

:

2015 "On Hold"

A New year and a new concern. Apathy has crept into my life. After a hectic end to 2014 with two deaths and a birth in my husband's family, plus having to move his sweet father into a senior's home that could deal with his increasing dementia, I found myself still in a whirlwind of clutter and loose ends, but then SMACK! I  ran into a wall marked "on hold" and that's when the apathy tip-toed in together with a lack of resolve to do much about it?

 Fund raising for a bladder scanner for the Houston Health Center is on hold due to a possible grant, although I had approached local businesses and am up to $1000 toward the $20,000 needed. Slow wheels moving there. Then the idea for raising money for a CT scanner for the Smithers hospital went by the wayside when I was told it wouldn't happen is now being re-considered, but again, I'm on hold to see if that WILL be a go again. Will Houston be hosting a Daffodil Dash for the CCS in the Spring? Waiting to get people to a meeting to decide but I'm playing phone tag with the connections.
The writing is on hold to hear from a publisher regarding the book series. The story about Yerts on our ski hill is a maybe for NEXT year and I am waiting for a surgery date for my Dad's hip which means my going home to NB again for a bit this winter. Soon? Later?
My life is one big wait for what's around the corner. More cancer, more health issues, more family health concerns, a lottery win perhaps? WILL my stocks ever go back up?

Maybe I AM dealing with things, it's just the sideline buzzing that is upsetting me, all those irons simmering with nothing I can do to move them forward. Gee, what if they all come through at once?

The discovery that exercising, playing Anagrams on the iPhone or watching movies moves time just as well as sitting waiting for answers has helped. But it's not very constructive for a person figuring there might be less than 20 years left to make the most out of my life.

The health? We're waiting for the Dr's appointment to talk about a possible para-thyroid issue. Getting little head-ache flashes upon exerting myself , an imbalance has cropped up, my calcium levels are too high and my moods are swinging large again. I almost blew a gasket at Aquafit when the class was not working for me no matter what I tried. It made no sense, both the lesson's confinement and my absence of patience. I became a four year-old again. I even shouted "F*&#  you, Mrs. Kilpatrick (my kindergarden teacher) to the shower spray. Where did that come from?

Something is up and I have to wait to get the ball rolling on what that might be.
Until then, apathy has popped up. I'm starting to not care so much if ANYthing happens. I could almost enjoy this slow pace of waiting. What a change in my life. It used to be go, go, GO!!!!!!!!!! Well, in Aquafit I guess it still is, but other than that...

So, until something changes I'll be letting life pass by skiing or making as many words out of the letters A D S O F H G  as I can. It's probably not the WORST thing I could be doing with my time.Let's just hope there will be an end to it before the year gets too much older.

Beating Our Parents

Beating our parents...Not beating as in pummeling, but passing our parent's time lines in the race of life. That's what I want to talk about.

We all wonder about when our number will be called. If we manage to avoid being road kill or involved in other untimely accidents that take our life, then how do we gauge how long we might expect to live?

By looking at our family history. The "crystal ball of probability" I call it. Unfortunately for me, my paternal grandparents were road kill in their early 50's, my maternal grandfather was shot in the war at a very young age and my maternal grandmother smoked her way to lung cancer.

When Dad turned 60-ish, things began to happen with himself and his six siblings. Heart valve issues from plaque, high lipid concerns, almost everyone had to have a bypass or two. Then in his seventies, his sister died of bowel cancer.

After Mom died from pancreatic cancer, I wondered about my having told my physician that no, cancer did not run in my family. It wasn't hereditary. But as I've learned, wait long enough and almost everyone will better their chance at getting their cancer lottery ticket called.

For me, this means that the system of comparing our life length with that of our parents is no longer a safe gauge.

Fifty percent of the people getting cancers today could not have prevented them, meaning a good portion are  hereditary. Some families have long lineages of heart disease or cancer and so early detection and proper preventative measures should be taken without question.

 But the other  50%  need to understand that getting cancer is now more about lifestyle and what goes on and in your body. Don't think because cancer does not run in your family that you will avoid  it. The toxins we apply between beauty products, cleaning products and sun tan booths, the air pollutants, the cigarette smoke. Additives in packaged foods mixed with high acidic red meat, sodas, too much alcohol, not enough good clean water: all these things accumulate your cancer lottery tickets until one day you discover the reason you have been so abysmally tired is due to a cancer growing inside of you.

I don't want that to happen to me again. After understanding that my breast cancer was highly avoidable had I drank more water and less wine, eaten more fish and chicken instead of red meat, taken up yoga for my stress, eaten more natural sweeteners than refined sugars, then I could have given my body a better fighting chance to battle the cancer when it started to take off with my life.

Thankfully, donations towards cancer research enabled the medical profession to discover the micro metastasis already detached from my breast tumor, heading off to infiltrate more of me. That had not been possible as early as one year prior to that find. So count me doubly fortunate.

But will YOU be so fortunate? Why take chances in a lottery that is guaranteed to reduce your length of stay on the top side of the grass?

Because Mom died of pancreatic cancer, something I still do not consider "herditary" in our family but a by-product of the canned soup, packaged sauce and meal era, I am trying hard to buy better all-natural products, drink no more than a couple of alcoholic drinks a MONTH, cut out the crap as much as possible (and still enjoy my life!), exercise more, use my aromatherapy stress-buster, eat more kale and drink more water, just so that I can still BEAT her 73 years.

 My goal is 75. That might seem young, but given my toxic overload through CT Scans, chemotherapy and a penchant for cigarettes and 20-30 drinks a week for years, I figure that's a high bench mark.

Who do you want to beat and what are you doing to make that happen?

Better Choices...

PRESS RELEASE

BETTER CHOICES REDUCE RISK OF CANCER

“It’s a cancer lottery,” says DebiLyn Smith, author of Running From Cancer: a tilted memoir. “The more bad choices you make the more tickets you give yourself. The more tickets, the greater the possibility cancer will tap you on the shoulder and say ‘next’.”

A Northern BC breast cancer survivor for four years now, Smith wrote about her experience as a “ chocolate gorging, wine swilling, exercise wanker” that lost half a breast before experiencing baldness in the “chemo fast-lane”and sticking her tongue out at the large rotating radiating laser head as it passed across her flesh. “I took one for the team so that you don’t have to,” she says. I wrote this book to hit you over the head, with humour and inspiration, but to show you why you want to do EVERYTHING you can to avoid going down this road. Having cancer will change your life. If you are supplying your body with the ammunition it needs to fight back when a cancer cell sparks up, then you have a greater chance of never having to sit across from your doctor and hear those life-changing words, 'you have cancer'.”

According to the Canadian Cancer Society, almost 50 % of cancers can be prevented. (http://www.cancer.ca/en/about-us/for-media/media-releases/national/2014/world-cancer-day-2014/?region=bc) Smith says, “If you are supplying your body with the ammunition it needs to fight back when a cancer cell turns rogue, then you have a greater chance of never having to sit across from your doctor and hear those life-changing words, ‘you have cancer.’”

 “I’m one of the people that closed my eyes and hoped to outrun cancer but cancer ran right over me and flattened me like road kill. I got mad that I went through the ordeal and now want to help others avoid that same fate. It’s time to wake up out there.”

Smith’s book includes tips, recipes and a love story. Her website at www.debilynsmith.com offers more information on cancer prevention and healthy recipes.

Smith will be in Prince George at Ave Maria on 20^th Ave this Friday from 11-5, at Coles Book Store Pine Center Mall from 11-4:30 on Saturday and at the CIBC Run For the Cure on stage at 10 on Sunday. Proceeds from DebiLyn’s book sales are shared with her BV Health Care and Hospital Foundation and the many cancer fundraisers that she attends.

For contact, please use contact@debilynsmith.com

Website www.debilynsmith.com

Slipping Through the Medical Cracks

Not one or two, but half a dozen horror stories surfaced during my tour across BC with my book Running From Cancer: a tilted memoir. The story of someone waiting six months to get an appointment to see the specialist only to discover their paperwork never MADE it to the specialist's office. A phone from the doctor's receptionist makes the discovery and the wait must begin again. Talk about losing your hair... never mind the chemo...I'd pull mine out from the sheer frustration.

How about this one- a 59 year-old super healthy male had tests done in January from his not feeling good with pain in one certain area that was constant. While waiting for news, he turned yellow and lost a pile of weight he could ill afford. He did have an appointment to talk to a surgeon in Vancouver but he  never made it that far. In mid May, a week before his appointment,  he went to the hospital in excruciating pain, which once they got under control, his time ran out. His kidneys shut down. Within days we lost him. This was a man that would have been on the first plane to Mexico to be bombarded by every treatment available, but once the kidneys packed it in, we were told there was nothing to be done. I saw this man a week before he went in hospital. Knowing he was getting worse by the day, he said, "I don't know what to do? Have I a week,a  month, a year to live? I don't know what to think anymore!"
The problem? He had put his entire faith in his doctor's hands. After the family requested a copy of the test results from January, the Doctor admitted he dropped the ball- he never read the test results about the liver cancer. The papers had been filed and never read again until the family requested them. A court case is pending.No shit!

Then there was the lady who was told repeatedly her stomach pain was nothing-, to continue with the antacids. After insisting on more tests,  her wish was granted, albeit postponed a few times in a row. The results then sat on the doctor's desk  for weeks while on his holidays. Upon his return, the lady was in hospital with pain too intense to ever get out again. Time wasted that might  have been invaluable to her family.

How about this: A friend of mine waits over a year to see a specialist, gets the OK for the operation and while on the table, the anesthetist comments on her wait, "You should have complained harder." Really? Is that what we need to do? Become obnoxious whiners? Maybe make things out to be worse than they are to get ahead of the guy behind us? That's not slipping through a medical crack, but it shows you that there ARE serious issues in our medical overload.

Besides being overwhelmed with the baby boomers aging faster than bananas that have been frozen, our doctors are being top-loaded and inundated with a system already overtaxed.

Of course there are fail safes so that these things don't happen BUT, we're dealing with human error here and anything that gets overloaded will start to smoke under pressure.

So what can YOU do to make sure you don't fall into this chasm?

First off, when a doctor orders a test done on you, you have the right to receive a copy of the results. That means, after you have sat before the doctor who explains as best as she/he can in layman terms what it is you have and need, you can take that test copy home with you and have another chance to go over it. Lots of times a doctor will press you to make a decision based on test results while still in their office. Sometimes their opinion of what you should do might NOT be in your best interest. Maybe, say for breast cancer, instead of going through a lumpectomy to remove a small tumour, you might want to see about removing the entire breast instead of facing  a possibility of a recurrence later down the road. For many of us, the thought that cancer may pop up again NEVER leaves your mind. Maybe you want a second opinion on how to handle the situation, possibly non-traditionally through naturalists/herbalists and other trained specialists. I wouldn't recommend that, but some people want to give it a try and it is their right to do so.

Second, know that your health is your responsibility, NOT your physician's. Giving yourself over completely to the care of your doctor is not your best move. You need to work with them, but not totally rely on one of the busiest people you may ever meet. Your doctor is possibly juggling dozens of people's charts, concerns, tests and results every day. See how you can get lost in that?
After seeing a patient, most doctors make notes in the patient's charts. But what if they get distracted, pulled away for a bit of time, maybe they have a crisis at home ... anything can happen.

What am I saying? Look out for yourself and your loved ones. Follow through on test appointments, ask questions about how long before you can expect calls and answers and then mark that on your calendar. Take notes while in a doctor's office. Use the phone and talk to receptionists at specialist's yourself. Find out how backed up a doctor is, if they received your paper work. Do what you need to do, but do NOT just sit there and wait for your doctor to come to your rescue. It may never happen.

And wouldn't that be sad, if you lost your life because of a crack in an over-loaded system. Maybe your name was misspelled or your file was buried in the wrong row. Possibly someone's dog ate it- (worked for me in Grade School)? You going to bet your life that no-one will make a mistake when it becomes your turn?

Guess what- it's only going to get worse! So get over it and get out there and squeak (nicely, please!)if you have to, just do what you can to help prevent slipping into the ever-widening chasm of today's medical world.

Just Like Robin Williams

My heart goes out to Robin William’s family on the recent passing of someone I much admired and related to. With his seemingly manic ups and reportedly lowest of lows, I always figured we were alike:  classic ADHDers. Robin's People magazine obit labeled him with my nickname “whirling dervish” but it was hearing how he had suffered for years from depression that clinched it.

Depression is such a BIG word in so many ways. My experience with it has opened my eyes to many facets of the disorder, because that is what depression is: a DIS-ORDER; something out of the ordinary and in my case (and I suspect in Robin William's) a chemical imbalance in the brain that can swirl emotions and thoughts into a Helter Skelter world where nothing makes sense anymore. 

Depression is not a disease that you catch. It can develop after a devastating or shocking incident like the death of a loved one, a post-partem blue, the loss of health or self-image. For others of us, it is hereditary. My mother was prone to depression and as I unconsciously scratch my wrist into bloodied shreds, I often think of her with the same scabs on her arms, the highs and the lows we followed her through, the whispering about her "bad nerves." My brother committed suicide three years ago: an unfortunate result of abruptly stopping his anti-depression medication. Add to that my breast cancer ordeal through two surgeries, chemo, radiation and reconstruction and you have a recipe for despondency.

Whatever way it comes, depression can be all-consuming and it can take your life.

To the outside world, Robin Williams, comedian/actor, was as large as life. He had everything, or so it seemed. How could a man so FULL of life, turn life down?

Reports state that Robin was a happily married father of three adult children with many blessings that I am sure outweighed any troubles on the outside. A person without this infliction knows that and has that to reach out to when things get too far down. It should be enough to pull you forward.

With depression, you can know that everything in your life is amazing and still be "depressed" or feel abysmally lower than dirt for no apparent reason. Even without the physical symptoms of pain, living can be painful enough for you to want to end it.

 Let me give you some insight into a moment of depression: You are standing on a ledge between life and death with such despair and grief for yourself that the world outside of your own perceived horror is a mere haze standing behind you. At that moment, nothing else matters- not family, loved ones, thoughts of consequences, of the after math if you do leave. You do not think of the future that is still to come with its promise of rich memories, of a possible resolution to the emotional nightmare. All that matters is ending the hurt of it all: silencing the voice in your head that speaks of your worthlessness, inadequacy, of never getting anything right. You beat yourself with any image that proves what your mind tells you of your failings. You flog and writhe and commiserate until you beg for the peace you know must exist somewhere.

When a person gets to that stage, if they are not backed away from the ledge by a rational thought, by someone else recognizing their call to self-destruct, then that person might succeed in ending what might have been alleviated by counselling and medication. 

I stress the words might have.

Anti-depressants can alleviate the imbalance and a person can achieve harmony. But life doesn't always work the way it should.

Drugs and psychotherapy are well touted in their success rate but sometimes good things come with a price. Anti-depressants can also cause depression for some and like all drugs, these pills come with a list of possible side-effects. The ones that worked the best for stabilizing me were also creating havoc with my health in other areas- enough that I had to start weening off of them. This was much more difficult than I thought it would be and as I approached square one I found myself getting weepy again. Unless I am purposefully exercising, I have no energy to start something new. I have lost interest in any on-going projects, of things I used to love to do. And I am experiencing past flare-ups of temper, of unexplainable rages before crashing into the basement of despair again. It's all so unfair- to have glimpsed peacefulness only to have it taken away. Back to the drawing board. Sigh. I will get through this. 

Not everyone does.

I want to help you understand that people who are depressed need help. Professional help. A slap on the back or a reminder that things will seem better tomorrow can sink them further into oblivion. Depressed people can have blocks that prevent them from seeing things rationally. Simply being depressed depresses them further.

If you know someone who suffers from this dilemma, help them to see that they need help. Realizing one has a disorder is half the battle. The other half is seeking aid. If they're not already doing it, they need to be assessed by a health professional who can point that person in the right direction for the next steps.  

If they're a loved one, take the time to tell them what they mean to you or how they have positively impacted on your life. A hug can be an amazing gesture but at the very least, encourage them to reach out for help.

Severely depressed people can be open targets for their own missiles so you should never blame yourself if the missile manages to hit its target. You can only hope that the need to push the button is contained by whatever helps us to remain. For me it's a will to see the future. I honestly want to stay here for my children and their's. My body and mind may be failing me, but my desire to hold and smell and nurture my descendants, and my need to help reduce the world's number of patients facing cancer will hopefully tether me for some time to come.

But sometimes, there are those days. Days when the drag outweighs the buoyancy to stay afloat and you begin to sink.

Unfortunately for his family, no-one was able to save Robin Williams before he drowned, choked to death by a belt around his neck.

May he finally be at peace.

When things are at their worst, it means they can only get better. Ain't no way but "up" from the bottom. Or so I tell myself.

If you are depressed, I strongly urge you to seek professional help. Your local Health Clinic can offer you more information in your area.

DOMINO DECISIONS

He's been telling me for years to stop changing my mind! His voice is usually strained, higher pitched than normal and quite obviously wrought with sincerity and hope that THIS time I will get what he means.

I also have a great friend who spent a few years chastising me every time we got together "but you SAID...and now you're saying this?" until I guess she gave up and realized I would probably change my mind yet again. Who can keep up? Sometimes I can't keep up to the changes I make myself.

I DO try to keep my promises. Those don't change. But if there's a "better way" to do anything, I feel I can and will and should try. I know I SAID I would do it one way, but  after further investigation, or a better understanding , a cheaper price elsewhere, a better day, better weather, (there are 1000+ reasons WHY), I will change my mind, the plan or the thing. Always for "everyone's benefit" I am sure.

For fifty plus years I never figured this a problem, as long as I was considerate enough to notify others. Usually the plan would make it better for EVERYONE concerned. My husband and friends would hopefully one day learn to roll a little faster to keep up with these betterments. Right??

 I finally am starting to see that the answer is actually WRONG!  It took a few events at my daughter's wedding last week to see that quite often one change for the better for me, can dwindle down to one big change to make things worse for someone else.I managed to see it because for once, the plans changed ON ME- by other people and I was left facing the awkwardness of  more than one situation.

It's a bit of a habit in our family- everyone out for what suits him or her best. Let everyone else fend for what's left? Maybe they've been watching me do it for myself all these years and it has finally come back to bite me in the bus I almost had a mutiny on an hour before the wedding. It definitely bit me when the nth hour had a change in the rehearsed seating of the parent's sides.I still don't know why it happened, only that I got to see the awkwardness of my bride's father and step-father trying to get around each other as we stood behind him and not on the other side of Karly. Water under the bridge my bride tells me. So why does it still taste so bitter?

Can I be seeing that by changing something to best suit me, it may not be what best suits the people possibly behind the scenes or someone I had NOT thought about? Or that by taking one choice and not sticking to it, I domino others who make their decision based on mine and then will possibly need to change as well? 

Why is it so hard to decide on something in the first place? Ever order the Orange Tiger ice cream and then immediately wish you'd gone for chocolate mint instead? Happens to me all the time.

Saying that, I can see it's not going to be an over-night change into a one-decision gal. BUT, I am now aware of how bad an attitude that it is: right up there with being selfish, tyrranical, devil-may-care about anyone standing in line behind me. It's sad because I wasn't raised that way. And I spend so much time trying NOT to be like that. I figured I was such a giving, caring person. But it seems I am only like that until it comes down to my own choices.Then I figure it's all about what I want. Or think I want at that moment, reserving the choice to change my mind.

So, I'm going to try and work on it. It's all I can do at this point. Show by example to my family. And for once, I am not going to change my mind  about that or try and change anyone else's mind  about the matter, either.

Gives YOU something to think about, I hope.

WOMEN and WHINE

Right after a recent talk I gave I had a person attending send me an e-mail challenging a fact I had stated. They correctly said if I was to get one fact wrong that it would affect the credibility of my entire presentation. And rightly so. But the question was about the amount of alcohol recommended for women per WEEK.

The writer said they had researched and found that it was one a day.

Well, once again, that person WAS correct as many websites STILL advertise that amount as being safe, especially on American websites.And isn't alcohol, in particular a glass of deep red wine healthy for you?

 Not according to the on-going research done through the Canadian Cancer Society. The CCS figures that one alcoholic drink per day still gives gals a 1.5 chance of getting breast cancer. Yes, a low number, but I've beaten better odds. Alcohol can also lead to liver disease, obesity, alcoholism and heart disease. While alcohol might reduce clogging of the arteries under certain circumstances, it almost always raises blood pressure, causes weight gain and boosts triglyceride levels in the blood, all risk factors for heart disease. Triglycerides are fatty substances than can build up in the liver if the body doesn't break them down properly, and even small amounts of alcohol inhibit the body's processing of triglycerides.

 The final answer?  On the Canadian Cancer Society's website it is recommended that women drink LESS than one alcoholic beverage a day. They suggest 2-3 a week MAX.

So what's a girl to do besides whine about the fact that men can drink up to two a day and not suffer any major threats? Try drinking what your body really wants and needs: A tall glass of good water. Or try my Saudi Champagne life saver- a wine glass of ice almost filled with low sodium soda water and topped by a splash of white grape juice. Or eat a handful of carefully washed purple grapes and get the same heart health benefits, without the threat of cancer standing behind waiting to tap you on the shoulder. It beats whining about your wine intake and after a few less fuzzy mornings, headaches and rising weight scales, maybe you'll come to prefer the alternatives.

References:

 http://health.howstuffworks.com/diseases-conditions/cardiovascular/heart/alcohol-good-for-your-heart1.htm

http://www.cancer.ca/en/prevention-and-screening/live-well/alcohol/?region=on

Bone Density Scan IS for Wimps

Something new everyone. I was sent for a bone density scan last week.
The best news is it didn't hurt! There was no pain, no blood drawn, no contortoning  my limbs into pretzel positions. 

Being sent for a bone density scan can be as easy as going to the salon. Probably easier.

For me, getting to Prince George, a 3.5 hour drive down the highway, for the date I was given was the biggest issue. But here in the mighty north we have a solution called the Northern Health bus, where for the meager price of $10 one way, I was picked up, suitcase in hand, by the driver of a very large bus, complete with total wheel chair accessibility and gaped seating space and washroom, and left to sit back and enjoy someone else's driving down the highway.(www.northernhealth.ca or 1-888-647-4997)

What pleasure! I sat far enough back in the bus to not notice what was happening between the driver and the road. I pulled out my book, snuggled in and lost myself to someone else's world for a bit. A quick stop for another passenger (that made three of us) in Vanderhoof and we continued along, arriving in P.G. well ahead of the estimated four hour journey.

With the bus getting in at 7 pm, I had to overnight to make my appointment the following day at 11 am. This might be an issue with some, but there are hotels/motels in PG that will give you a medical discount for the asking.. And there's always the new Canadian Cancer Society's Kordyban Lodge that will take cancer related guests for $45 a night and non cancer related guests for $55 a night, three meals included.(Call them for info and reservations at 250-562-3535)
I was fortunate to stay with family overnight.

So, refreshed and full from an amazing power shake my sister-in-law  made, I arrived at the University Hospital of Northern BC. A volunteer in a pink jacket pointed upstairs, explaining the X Ray department was that way and down the corridor.
I arrived at the X Ray department and took a number where once called, I was checked-in and handed a form to give up at my next stop which was further down the same hallway.

Because I had a zipper in my pants, I was given a pair of flannel shorts to change into before being ushered into a darkened, small bedroom-sized exam room. I sat on the paper-lined stretcher/bed and answered questions about whether I had abstained from consuming extra calcium tablets before this exam as I'd been told.

I was then weighed and measured for height, an important step as you will soon see.

After lying down on the padded slab, a large cloth-covered box was placed beneath my knees, probably to force my spine further into the slab? A large white curved-headed machine came to life and like a scanner on a printer, it whirred as it moved slowly along the direction of my torso from my knees to my belly button. The head itself was a good foot and a half away from my body. No enclosure like in an MRI or something surrounding you like in a CT scan.
The process was repeated with the box removed and my legs lying flat in a divider to space my legs a certain distance apart. 

Easy, peasie, possibly more so because this was my second bone density scan. I had one two years ago to set "a marker" or a base for doctors to go by while I am on the cancer adjuvant therapy Letrazole. Letrazole is an anti-estrogen pill that can mess with your chances of osteoporosis and should be monitored for this.
I took a minute to discuss what the tech immediately could see from the results on her computer screen. A four cm change in my height kind of shocked me a bit.  I am no longer the 5'7 I have bragged about. I am a shorter 5'6 and change and going down. When did that happen?

When you're about 30-35 the tech told me, you have reached maximum height and you will start to decline (or something like that...I don't quote well). According to emedicinehealth.com, " After age 30, bone resorption slowly begins to exceed new bone formation. This leads to bone loss. Bone loss in women occurs fastest in the first few years after menopause, but bone loss continues into old age. Factors that can contribute to bone loss include having a diet low in calcium, not exercising, smoking, and taking certain medications such as corticosteroids. Corticosteroids are medications prescribed for a wide range of diseases, including arthritis, asthma, inflammatory bowel disease, lupus, and other diseases. Corticosteroids may cause osteoporosis when used chronically.

So when I turned 40 and then 50 there was more to complain about than just memory, hearing and energy loss. I am the Shrinking Woman. Now what would be the positive spin for this?All I can think of is losing my hard earned privilege of riding the bumper cars at the Fall Fair. You have to be taller than the sign to get on!
Positive. Positive. Give me a minute, I'm still thinking...
Nope, maybe YOU can tell me what is positive about getting smaller? Alice in Wonderland found it handy. Surely we can too?

Post Breast Recon Update

It has been a year since my breast reconstruction surgery in Prince George. One year of a full cup on both sides of my brassiere. Over 365 days of looking at the normalcy beneath my shirt. Cancer took half of my breast away as the surgeon had to remove not only the tumor but enough around the tumor to try and get any spread tentacles or wisps of cancerous tissue.And now I have it back!

I have been on the post cancer treatment drugs of Tamoxifen and now Letrizole for three years now and I must tell you that the intensity of the hot flashes and the aching joints DOES wane. Either that or I don't notice them as much? No, I am sure they are less frequent and less intense. I also know what brings them on, like drinking hot beverages, red wine, spicy foods and stress. So sometimes I know when I am going to get one but do it to myself anyways. Sometimes it's worth it.

A hot flash acts like a choke collar for me. If my temper starts to rise, my heart speeds up, my face goes purple and water descends down from arm pits, my back, my neck, my brow. The act of trying to cool myself down before brain matter is boiled always defuses the stressful situation. At that moment I only want to survive the heat. Thank good ness my children have grown up. Now if I could get my husband to do things more my way, we could lessen the fanning.

But back to the boobs! My recon started with an expander on my right side to make room for the permanent silicone bag that would fill out my chest to past measurements. The left side was surgically gathered and raised, reducing it's size only marginally to resemble the right one. My scars have healed around the left nipple, cut so close to the darker brown line as to be almost invisible. All that remains is a slight pink line beneath the breast from the nipple to the chest.Two inches. It's nothing! The right side looks like I have a bruise which will possibly fade with more time.

The side of my chest where the lymph node surgery was done is still tight and felt with every movement of my right arm.It doesn't stop me from using it, especially where there is good food involved.I don't jig for halibut anymore though.

To sum things up, if you are sitting on the fence about whether or not to endure yet another surgery, I highly recommend you think about how wonderful it would feel to thumb your nose at your cancer and say, Ha! You didn't ruin MY life. I got my body back, better than ever. I have before and after pictures that are amazing! We're talking about changing zucchinis to grapefruits again.

 Breast recon isn't for everyone. For me,  it made a huge difference in my morale, self-confidence, and determination to keep the newly adjusted ones from ever getting operated on again.

Methods are changing for the better. There is less downtime, better results.Check into it. You can always decide NOT to do it once you hear all the facts.It's your body and your time.

 Please send me a note if you want to know more about my experience with this.

Relaying With Relish

 The Smithers Relay For Life was held on Saturday, June 7th at the Chandler School outdoor track. It started as a sunny morning  with volunteers popping in, coffees in hand to don their orange t-shirts marking them as organizers. Within minutes we were welcomed and put to work. We covered tables for the luncheon, set up tents and chairs, helped unload sound equipment, placed parking and no parking and team signs around.
We decorated and spread shirts across the Survivor Registration and  greeting station where people who have been through or are going through cancer get their special yellow shirts. They are encouraged to draw the outline of their hand on a banner, inside of which they will put how many years they have been cancer free and their name. The banner will later be walked around the track carried by and followed by the survivors. It's a powerful moment as people clap and cheer as we walk .

The first time I joined the survivors, I found this unnerving but now I receive it with honour as I know I am doing what I can to help others prevent a tangle with cancer.  Hugs and applause are always welcome in my life.

After a quick bite of fruit and vegis, I set-up and manned the Prevention Table where I talked to people about the ten tips I promote on lessening  cancer lottery tickets. I had samples of products one can reach for to lessen toxins, to use inside and outside their bodies to hopefully discourage a cancer growth. Things like vitamin D supplements, anti-oxidants like blueberries and ground flax seeds, using good oils instead of animal fats.

There were speeches from people going through their cancers and ones from people who have been out the other end. Stories of hope and loss, of optimism and of things the Canadian Cancer Society are currently funding in the way of research. Like: killing cancer cells with designer viruses and tracking prostate cancer with a protein biomarker, mapping the obesity problem, improving PET (positron emission technology) images among many, many others. (re: Top Canadian Cancer Society research stories of 2013)

There were head shavings on-site by people wanting to support others that are bald from cancer treatments. An anti " flavoured tobacco" petition was circulated and radon detector talks and draw. There was great music by local bands, local health food available and the sale of the luminaries: white flame-proof bags decorated in memory of cancer fighters present and past. A scoop of sand and a tea light candle are inserted in the bags which will line the track in the later hours. When they are lit, we walk the track in silence, thinking of these people.
The following is an excerpt from the end part of my luminary speech :

Tonight we light luminaries for those who's lights have gone out. We rekindle their memory with our flames and give them a moment of our silence. But we should also give these people our promise. That we will start looking after ourselves much better in their honour. Let them know that their passing from cancer has taught us a valuable lesson. That we will try harder to stay alive. To not take good health for granted.And that we will set a better example for those coming up behind us. For our children and the survivors of the future. So please think about this as you walk this last lap around the track in honour of those lights who are once again shining. The candles last mere minutes but our missing loved ones and the names of those currently fighting will live on forever in our hearts.

The moment was once again so emotional for me that I might have mentioned I will do what I can to get Houston relaying again in the summer of 2015.


It's never too late to give to the Canadian Cancer Society who does so many great things for anyone dealing with this disease. See their website at  www.canadiancancersociety.ca.

FREE ORGANIC FOOD! JUST BEND OVER...

Spring is in the air, as the song goes, but its also in the ground amidst the trees and the stinging nettles, the  trillium, phlox, trout lily, Dutchman's breeches, violets and many more wildflowers that the warmed ground starts to pop forth.
It's the beginning of the growth cycle which starts the filling of our freezer with our own harvested organic food, fresh from local forests. Like an Easter egg hunt, it's fun, great exercise and other than your time and possibly gas for your vehicle, it's free food for your fridge and freezer.


What am I talking about? Fiddleheads and morel mushrooms, of course. 

In Canada's coastal provinces such as  New Brunswick and Nova Scotia to the Pacific Coast of British Columbia, Mother's Day signals it's time to start checking any flooded areas for the first signs of a non-flowering wild fern called fiddleheads. These natural perennial and delicious vegetables grow up from the ground as spores rather than from seeds and boast about 10,000 variations. 

WHAT DO THEY TASTE LIKE?   With the outer part being firm and green, a fiddlehead at first bite tastes like asparagus, but then the inside has a softer leafy fern, so you will notice a following consistency of broccoli tops. Excellent when cooked, drained and tossed with a bit of lemon or vinegar. Pre-boil, rinse well and use in other dishes like casseroles, soups and stir-frys. Endless uses for this spring-must that is higher in anti-oxidants than blueberries!

WHAT DO I LOOK FOR? As they rise from their base or their "clump" fiddleheads are tightly coiled, closely resembling the ends of a fiddle. With the type that is best to eat, both sides of the coiled fern have a covering of light, rusty brown rice-paper (NOT black) like skin that as the fern uncurls, falls off. It is rumoured that hummingbirds like to use this dried fabric as lining for their nests. 

NOW WHAT DO I DO?When picking, we take the time to flick the exterior red fluff off before putting the fiddlehead in our bucket as it makes for much easier cleaning when the day is done.
 Once thoroughly rinsed at least three times in cold running water to separate any leftover fluff from the greens, fiddleheads must be boiled in a pot of water(to get them clean enough to eat) for at least three to fifteen minutes, depending on your taste for crunchy or soft vegetables. Rinse well before eating.

 After the stalk reaches a certain height, fiddleheads begin to uncurl, eventually standing straight and full, pretty when placed on the table as part of a floral arrangement but too bitter to eat.
It is the tightly coiled fronds that you want to pick for eating.  It is best to pick them before their stalks are barely out of the earth. That way they will be nice and firm and will keep for weeks in the fridge.

WHAT IS A MOREL MUSHROOM?

Morels are a wild mushroom that pop their heads out of the loamy earth only in the early spring. Although most species of mushrooms are found in very distinct habitats, the morel can be found in forests of spruce, cottonwood, Douglas fir, maple, beech or poplar trees. They can be found singly or even better, in large groups (it's like winning the lottery when you find the odd big patch).

BUT WHERE ARE THEY???

 Black morels (which appear first) tend to be more exclusively in hardwood forests, but not around any particular type of tree. Finding them is often like a connect-the-dots game. When you find one, be still and look nearby. When the spores that created the morel you just picked were jettisoned years ago, there likely was a wind pattern that blew the spores in a particular path. There may have been a nutrient source or environment (soil type, moisture, pH, etc.) that was conducive for growth. Look for the patterns.

Morels are particularly fond of areas that have burned the previous year. They seem to prefer soil that has been saturated from floods, snowmelts, swamps and rain so wear waterproof rubber or hiking boots when you go.

You can find the black, yellow and grey morel mushrooms growing near logs, under decomposing leaves, under dying elm trees, ash trees, popular trees, pine trees, or in old apple orchards

WHAT SHOULD I LOOK FOR?

.Not only is it the best-tasting mushroom, the morel is also the easiest to identify and safest to eat of all wild mushrooms. Generally, if you find a sponge-like protuberance, 1 to 6 inches tall pushing skyward among fallen forest leaves and grasses on spring days between 60 and 80 degrees, you're in luck. The stems and caps of morels are hollow, and the stem is attached at the base of the cap. It makes a great first mushroom to learn because its spongy shape is so distinctive and easy to identify. If you cut the morel open, it should be completely HOLLOW. If it's not do NOT eat it. And remember, any wild mushrooms MUST BE COOKED BEFORE EATING.

You want to look for this one on the right with the bottom of the mushroom cap attached to the stalk.. If it's not attached it's called a false Morel and you should avoid it.