Fairly Hilarious

On the way to the first art show in Chemainus I was driven up by my closest friend. Her 17 year old son was in the back and is a cheeky monkey. He stated loudly that my friend and I (Pinky) come off in public as a lesbian couple. I thought that was pretty funny because we are very close but... you know, we don't like each other that way.

So with some quick Photoshoppery I made this and sent it to them. Maybe her son could use it as his new screen saver?

Project Kill

Killing my project list, that is.

Being sick again (through October to the end of Novemebr) has knocked me off my feet and I inevitably get set right back and have piles of work and life stuff to get done. I find it very stressful to have all these things that need doing when I am unable to get them done. Because I am an artist and I am not able to get back to work yet because of my health, I find that I end up picking up projects for people. My brain still thinks it's five years ago when I could get multiple things accomplished every day but reality hits when I feel completely inept and overwhelmed.

Most of my days has this omnipresent feeling of being behind and even guilt, yet I wander around in circles too stressed and chemo brained to get anything done. Hiding from it all is no way to live. I find these little projects which are often photography projects clog up my psyche.

I start to feel better and then I am slammed with everything that needs to get done. Well no more! I made a kill list and all my projects are on it. I'm trying my best to not get distracted while I'm at my computer and I'm trying my best to remember to eat because I end up cycling into exhaustion if I forget to.

So far I have killed 2 big projects and am onto a third today. I'm not working on my paintings yet because I need to clear the slate. I expect a sense of freedom to arrive when I'm done and I won't be taking on anything else. My sons and my needs will come first.... like it should be.

The first project haunting me was some snapshots of whales for some friends of mine. I was visiting my family when from their patio, I saw some orcas approaching. I grabbed my camera in just enough time to get a few shots of the Killer Whale family coming in close to the shore and swimming in between boats. Then I realized my friends were on the one boat quietly watching.








As peaceful as this looks, the pod was hunting seals and I watched as the older ones stood by as the young whales killed a seal. I also saw a few seals sitting quietly very close to shore terrified out of their wits, I'm sure.

Just a few more, larger projects to go!

Friends and Saying Goodbye

I've been meaning forever to post this photo. It's of an art fundraiser my friends put on for me when I was in treatment. I was allowed home to the island for a few days in between treatments before my transplant and so I surprised them by showing up. I hadn't seen my kids or any of my friends until then, so it was a hugely joyous occasion. None of us had the magnitude of what I was going through hit us yet.

The two paintings in the background are mine. My friends collected, donated and sold tons of artwork to financially help out my sons and I, and they did a fantastic job. This photo also shows a thousand cranes that many hands folded for me. I guess it worked because I'm still here.

Shannon, on the far left passed away suddenly a few days ago. She had a stomach ache, went to the hospital and then came home and went to bed. And now she is gone, I can scarcely believe it.

It's so difficult to believe. She was such a creative and bright force. She was always smiling and bringing creative projects to life. She loved vintage things, friends, helping others, her husband and children. She made our small community a better place. When she moved in next door to me, she brought big ideas and made them a reality in our little stagnant town.

She taught me a lot, the main thing being that I could let myself be a creative person and let it show. She introduced me to Fluevogs, she borrowed and wore my vintage dresses with a flourish and she spread colour wherever she went. She would dye her hair wild colours constantly and she always made it look gorgeous. The last thing she did on Facebook was say if 50 people hit the 'like' button, she would dye her hair pink in support of fighting breast cancer. I'm pretty sure she would have done it either way.

After I met her I found the gumption to cut off all my hair and dye it purple for my 30th birthday. I found the courage to pack up my children and move in search of new adventures and opportunity. She was a doer. Once she told me that she didn't understand the creative people in her life. She said that we are gifted with so many ideas but we often don't do them. She would take an idea and not sit on it for a second. She would run with that idea and make it a smashing reality. I found a lot of good in knowing her.

I guess I never really said it before, but she changed my life. I had been discouraged from being myself as a vibrant artist and human being my entire life but she lead by example. I followed her blazing path and then onto my own.

Without knowing it, she helped me become me.

My 4th Rebirthday from Beginning to End

Hmmmm, I wondered. How should I spend my 4th anniversary of being free and clear of cancer? What would someone do if this was the best day of their lives?

I decided that donuts for breakfast would be the thing to do so I went to my favourite bakery in my old hometown, on my way to hurl myself off a canyon cliff.


In the end, the slice of apple pie caught my eye because of the fat hunks of apple in it. It was delicious! While I was there someone I knew quite well came in. When he found out where I was going and what day it was he said, "So you've beaten cancer and now you're going to do what?"


Hell yes.


I grabbed my youngest son to be my reluctant videographer and then my parents decided they were coming too and hopped in my car. As we arrived they were all arguing about bringing the dog or something... I wasn't really paying attention because I just wanted to absorb the sheer glory of the day.

My day.


I arrived to a giant staircase the went straight up into the sky.


When I got to the top my son and father were already up there, my son feeling unphotogenic for once and a little peaved because he wasn't getting to jump too.


A gentleman was ahead of me and when it was asked why he was jumping he said it was for his 65th birthday. I would have high-fived him but he wasted no time at the top before he jumped.


Next thing you know I was getting my feet strapped in and was getting asked if I wanted to dip into the water. There was no anxiety at that point about jumping. Just excitement.

But then as I shuffled my feet to get to the edge I felt the heavy cord tugging slightly at my feet and a rush of fear hit me. I spent a lot of my life at rivers cliff jumping but this was different.

I stood at the top holding the bars at the sides of me. My body began to have an anxiety attack and the blood began rushing through my body as my hands gripped those bars. I hadn't felt fear like that since I was in the hospital having received my 6 days of total chemo and my one day of rest.

I knew I would die if I refused my transplant, left the hospital or if some crazy problem came up with my donor... like him running for the hills. These were all unlikely scenarios but ones I couldn't seem to get out of my mind. I had brought nothing with me to the hospital but my running shoes... just in case I made a break for it. I had given my trust to the doctors, my donor, the people caring for my children and everyone else my life now depended on. The bag of new stem cells they were about to give me was about to change me forever. I would never be the same and never be able to go back.

Before my family arrived I went into the washroom that was in my private hospital room. That was the only place I was allowed to go and I stood there in sheer and utter fear. I shook, I cried, I was comforted by a friend and my nurse. The nurse spoke to me and talked me through my fears. Yes, it was life changing, yes it's a difficult day to deal with, yes I had every right to be afraid.

I don't know how long I stayed in there but it felt like most of the day. I eventually composed myself and came out ready to take the leap.

And now here I was atop a canyon with a bungee cord strapped around my ankles and could feel the weight of it pulling me down.

I knew it was safe, I knew everything would be fine which is something I did not have with my stem cell transplant but I had to wrestle with myself. I had put my trust into these strangers that strapped me in and would control my fall. I had to trust.

In those moments, the bungee guy by my side talked to me. He told me it was safe, he told me he's jumped 45 times, he talked me through my panic. I took deep breathes and told my self aloud repeatedly, "I can do this, I can do this, I CAN do this". I overcame my overwhelming will to run. I felt more ready but my left hand would not let go of the bar. The bungee guy offered to hold my arms up for me but I refused because I wanted to be the one in control. He kept talking until he was saying, "You beat cancer, this is nothing, you CAN do this!"


And I jumped.


As I hurdled face first towards the Earth thought I might spontaneously die. Not from the fall but from my inability to cope.



Then I stretched my hands above my head and broke the surface of the water. The gentle force from the bungee cords hurled me back up into the air and down again. As I flew, I knew I had done it. I had conquered.


Climbing the staircase all the way back up was another matter.


As I drove home back through the mountains I drove past this car in the valley lot. It was as if we instantaneously knew each other. I'm pretty sure whatever that is, it's my car.


Back in Victoria I went to Willows beach to get some onion rings because I love them. I sat eating them on a bench, admiring the view and watching the beach revelers. I caught this photo with a bird flying past. I felt so content.



I then went to a close friend's house and stayed for a while.


As I headed home I went down to the ocean to watch the sun set. The colours of the sky were so extraordinary that a passerby commented that he lives here but had never seen such colours.


It was a perfect day in a not so perfect life.

Cancer Connections Photography Show -play by play

I made it! It's been a long time coming. That's me beside my photo.

I finally made it to the opening of the Cancer Connections Show. It was a grey and wet day as two friends of mine and I begrudgingly got up at an ungodly hour and caught the ferry. Four thirty in the am is a far cry of when I'm usually able to get my old bones out of bed. I drove and picked up the two others. These two friends I went with have known me forever and were the perfect companions to take me to this opening because they know where I came from, where I've been and what this day truly meant to me.

I had my stuff ready the night before so in the morning all I had to do was roll out of bed and get into the shower. I was hoping the scary would be worn off by the time the ferry arrived in Vancouver and I could look decent enough to be seen in public.

When I picked up the second fabulous friend at 6:00am I was surprised to see a vision of spectacular gorgeousness open the door. Her hair was done, her makeup was perfect and her outfit looked like she was about to waltz into a cocktail party. She had va va voom written all over her. How someone can make themselves look that good that early in the morning, I'll never know. But I shouldn't have expected anything less from my Bohemian Chic friend.

THE DRESS

So, I really wanted to wear the purple dress or at least one that was bright and colourful so I stood out from the black and white photography. The night before I tried on the dress again just to make sure but it was too tight and my body began physically reacting against it by having a unrelenting series of hot flashes. I freaked and my son almost had to tackle me. I had to get him to undo the side zipper under my panicked menopausal sweating arm pit, zipping in my flesh once or twice and I managed to run upstairs and haul it off. It felt like life and death, trust me. The things I put my poor sons through.

Last summer I managed to shed 15 lbs of my prednisone weight but it all came back when I was sick this winter. I had purchased the dress at the end of the summer specifically to wear to this opening so I was pretty upset. I shuffled through my closet to find anything else that would fit me, that wasn't Old Navy sweats. I managed to fit into one thing. A dress that I had worn to my university family graduation party. Last time I wore it I was bald and wearing a bright red/orange wig.

I found a coat that went with it but I was upset because it was all black. I rarely wear black and I didn't want to look like I was going to a funeral. I wanted to be happy, sunny and bright.... but as we know, shit happens. I had stuffed some variations of coloured tights and shoes to offset the black but on the ferry my brilliant consultants suggested I wear the grey tights and the black.

Despite my misgivings these two are too brilliant not to listen to so I complied. They soothed my sad vanity by telling me I looked mysterious and professional and sleek like Audry Hepburn.... I was sold. I did my hair and makeup in the ferry rest room and began to feel as amazing as they said I was.

FRIENDS

I have a knack for knowing extraordinarily amazing people. Two of these extraordinarily amazing people accompanied me through the hellishly early morning to get onto a ferry and see a photography show at 10:00 am in the rain.

I was feeling a bit scattered emotionally by going to this show with the photograph I took in the hospital only a few days before my transplant. This would be the first time I had seen it in print and it would be with 500 other images of people going through cancer. When I took the photograph I never imagined it would ever be seen by anyone else much less the entire country. I had a lot of expectations.

Both of these friends have been there for me through these last 4 years. They have had ultimate patience, haven't judged me and have just been there as rays of sunshine and reason through all of this crap. They will bitch and whine with me when I need to be sad or angry, and they will laugh and make bad jokes whenever I needed it. They help feed my creativity when it's in danger of falling into despair and remind me when I'm down that life goes on.

When I was sickest and couldn't get out of bed for a few years, one would come over and sit on my bed with me and we would laugh. Those were some dark days that seemed a little brighter because she was there. She wasn't scared off by all the hell I was dealing with and I will be forever grateful.

The other has been through things most people wouldn't have to deal with in a lifetime, yet she has dealt with it all with tenacity and grace. Her home bursts at the seams with creativity and her paintings. Her personality sparkles and she is light years more amazing than she realizes she is.

So they helped me pick out and feel better about what I was wearing and quietly attended the opening with me. When we arrived, they eagerly looked for my photograph and humoured me while I took photos of everything. I have a hard time with fatigue and my mobility so one friend drove, so as not to tire me out. They also carried my bags through the whole thing holding my various cameras and took video for me.

They basically made me feel like it was my day and they were in my corner. They asked for nothing the entire time, just supported me as I flitted about like an excited school girl.

They also sat with me way off in the corner while I recouped a bit.

I had to wait until a while after the end of the ceremony to be interviewed for a video that will eventually be added to the Photosensitive site. As we shivered in the cold waiting, my friend Jamie coached me on what to say and let me know what parts about my experiences were amazing. She let me know what was extraordinary about me and what I should say to the world. If she hadn't done that I would have been a big blank because this whole experience is just one large jumbled fog to me.

When my interview was over and some photos were being taken I could hear her in the background talking me up to the interviewer. It seemed her brain runneth over with good things to say about me. Afterwards she calmed my nerves by telling me I did a good job.

After it was all done and everyone had left, the other lovely lady heard me say I wish I could hoop around the photos. She happily offered to run down to the car in the parkade and bring my flat shoes and my hoop. Because she did that I was able to fulfill this little side dream of mine to bring joy into such a serious subject.

No stone was left unturned that day. I wouldn't have been able to do all those things if it hadn't been for them.

MEDIA


I didn't notice them at first because I was so overwhelmed with all the beautiful photos but there was a lot of media there that day. I was interviewed by someone but I'm not sure who. Unfortunately the interview was a big fail on my part. I just really wasn't prepared to verbalize anything about the photo. All I had cared about was living long enough to see it.

At first I was asked to be interviewed when they realized I was the person in the photo I was standing next to. Next they asked if my photographer was there to be interviewed as with me. I told them several times that it was a self portrait and pointed the camera in the photo out twice before they got it. Then they began asking me questions. I think I did not too badly until they asked me a question that completely threw me. They asked what I thought my photograph meant to others who see it. What did the world think of my photo?

Huh? I really can't say what someone else would see in it. It was such an intense personal moment in my life that how outsiders would think of it escapes me... plus I can't read minds.

Me, "Duuuuhhhhh". I finally answered by cracking a big smile and saying, "I'm just really happy to be here", but I'm not sure they actually knew what I meant by that and then they were on their way.

INVISIBLE DISABILITIES


I still have a lot of physical problems but was shocked when I saw these photos and how well I look. That's great and all but there are still days when I wish I had renewed my handicapped badge for my car. The photos I take where I look energetic and spry are just a millisecond of my life. I'm glad to have these moments caught on film because it gives me drive and hope that I will be that unhindered person again.

This photo was snapped of me while watching the action from the sidelines. This is my first time wearing a raised heal and I couldn't carry my camera and wear them. I also didn't last very long before I needed to sit it out. You can actually see how I'm holding my hands because they hurt. I usually forget these moments because I prefer to remember the moments that portray me as strong. Strong is who I used to be.

My reality looks a lot more like this now as I'm usually on the sidelines if I'm there at all. I'll keep trying.

JOY

This day is one of the best in my life and is only equaled by the day I got to walk up at my university convocation, blue wig and all. This day couldn't have been done without my friends and I give them a heartfelt thank you.

Computer update: am still working on getting my photos on the new computer so I can add them to this post. I can't seem to get them straight off my old laptop and the new mac only takes a new firewire connection! Argh! They only change that stuff so I have to buy a new cable :(

Freak Out Day Diffused

I scheduled Freak Day in because I was melting down and a close friend of mine said to give it 4 more days before I completely freak out. So, being that I'm the compulsive list maker, number cruncher type, I scheduled it on my calendar. It did help to put off my melt down so I could still remain a functioning entity. Brains tend to shut down when they are in panic mode.

My financial situation has been taking a downward slide for quite some time. I'm a wiz at living off of next to nothing and being creative to make ends meet but being unable to work for this length of time has taken it's toll. I told another long time friend of mine that my ship was sinking. She said, it's this ship that is sinking, not the better one around the corner.

I'm a firm believer that there is a solution to every problem, we just may not have found the right answer yet. I know it's hard to say that knowing I may not have a place to live in a few weeks, but I still know it's true. Keeping my sanity those few days longer has helped me be able to keep digging and exploring possibilities. I think things are looking up.

I will make it happen.

And I accept Lynne's (Autonomous Artisans) challenge for No Spend January! My next post is going to be about how I'm managing to do that. Bring it on!

Vagina Letter

This is an experpt from a letter sent to my vagina today, from a friend who knows my weird sense of humour and how to make me laugh.

dear baldylocks' vagina,

now i know you have been through a hell of alot, as has the rest of baldylocks, but you really took one for the team with the host versus graft, it was painful beyond what you ever thought would be possible and for so so long. as if the pain wasn't enough, there was that time at the c bay pharmacy when the pharmacist was so embarrassed about your situation that he made you feel humiliated for wanting a more humane and narrower cream dispenser. then, after going through so much your hope was simply to return to your former shape, size and self, but no, that was not to be.

i am sorry. it really sucks. i know that you will do what you have to do to be the best vagina baldylocks could ever have. you will even surrender yourself to a practical stranger in an operating room. you are the ultimate trooper. thank you. thank you for all of your healing up hard work. thank you for trusting the surgeon to restore you to a healthier self that can fit in a penis and support a cervix and uterus. you will get well again, i mean really well. well enough to possibly enjoy the pleasure of a penis with a scottish or australian accent one day. great things are ahead for you. vagina you are loved and appreciated. i am sorry that you have to go thru more crap. i wish it was over already, but i promise that this is your best path to healing. be brave tomorrow vagina. you have a destiny, you are precious, and you are loved.


Everybody do the happy vagina dance for me!

Saved

from another turkey disaster! A friend of mine who is a cooking genius swooped by to pick up the turkey. She will cook it tonight and drop it off before work in the morning. I don't think things could get much better!

Friends kick ass.

That includes internet friends.

Here is my previous turkey/vs/stove incident.

Unicorns and Rainbows

Dear Family and Friends;

I am not depressed.

I had cancer.

Despite my body being exhsausted and in pain, I am feeling emotionally better than I have ever felt in my life. Despite being hyper aware of my own mortality, I feel fanfuckingtastic, and I say that without sarcasm.
I am happy.

I hate having constant diagnoses of depression tossed at me. I hate having to defend my emotional state on a constant basis. I hate hearing,"Maybe you're depressed?" I realize that you care deeply about me. I also realize that you need to validate your own feelings of what I must be going through.

When you look at me, I know I look pained...It's because I am, in fact, in pain.

And, No I don't want to leave my house. No, I don't want to go out to social gatherings. I was separated from my family and my home for over 6 months. I just want to be here in the beautiful silence and comfort with my children. It's what I dreamt about for every second of every day, those 6 months.

I also realize that I don't fit the mold of what you think a cancer patient should look like. I'm not spouting enlightenment or donning pink runners. I laugh at my myself and my situation whenever I can. I have good days and bad days like anyone else.

It feels pretty defeating when I feel horrific and you say I look good or I'm feeling good and you say I must be depressed. When I tell you how I am doing I am telling the truth. I don't really have any reason to make anything up.

Maybe I'm in denial? Maybe I'm kidding myself that things are good...or maybe not. Maybe it's real. The cancer, the treatment, my new chronic conditions. Maybe I've chosen to not worry about it? Maybe I've chosen to love every day possible, whatever it brings?

Yes I am constantly tired. Every cell in my body has been bombarded with chemotherapy. Every cell in my body is healing. Yes my memory is bad. It's called "chemo brain" and is a medically documented phenomenon.

I had cancer, not a cold. That is what you see when you look at me. Don't misinterpret my symptoms or diagnose me. It is what it is.

I realize that the weight of what has happened in my life and my feelings don't seem to match for you. I am just living my life, healing and feeling quietly grateful that I am still here.

I apologize that I'm not shitting unicorns and rainbows....but not really.

Let's Play Kick the Cancer Girl

I don't like this game too much, it's becoming a little old.

For starters I don't much like being Cancer Girl. It is too reductive a role to encompass all that is me. Unfortunately that's all some people see when you say cancer. You stop being you and become someone else. Generally that someone else is a preconceived idea built by the TV and print media. The narrow potrayal of "miracle" stories and running fundraising campaigns have something to gain by their portrayal of the martyr cancer patient. It's called money, and people eat it up.

The occasional person I know has rebuffed my, "things are tough", with ,"you should be glad to be alive!" They wonder where my pink runners and permagrin are. Stairs are my nemesis. And isn't, "glad to be alive", a bit redundant unless you are suicidal? Of course I'm glad to be alive, DUH. I rarely see people who have survived a horrific car accident jump around glowing at the gift of continued life? They are too busy healing from the damage. So am I.

These miracle martyr stories are feel good fodder. They seem to only damage the perception towards the average person who is dealing with the day to day of living with/through cancer.

Don't get me wrong. I love feel good stories too. They can be uplifting and inspirational, but also at times they can set the bar too high. Is there something wrong with me if I couldn't continue working through chemotherapy? Should I try to stuff down my emotions and become a Stepford cancer patient? I'm me no matter what, so bite me.

I also talk about it. I consider true strength, being able to cope, deal with and accept your circumstances. There's no other way to move forward, except through and beyond. It's hard but the only way to let people know the real deal with cancer is to talk about it. I'm not being real if I have to hide what's going on in my life. Yes, there is cancer stuff, but there is other stuff too. I can't ignore what I'm going through to sooth other peoples anxieties. There's not enough makeup or Spanx in the world to make me look like what they want to see.

Maybe I'm too nonchalant about death and the like. Dark humour can be a brilliant thing when you have to stare death down.

So, let's give up this pathetic new sport. I think my "friends" anger towards me is actually their heightened sense of mortality. I make them realize that this may happen to them too.

Whatever.

Faithless

Have you ever had someone close to you betray you.


That friend who you were there for when their parents kicked them out, that person who you've known forever. That person that you saved from the schoolyard bully but happened to be a bully themselves. That person who you tried to make feel like a valuable human being, even when their behavior was deplorable.


Have you felt the sting of constant condescending remarks and just told yourself to let it roll off your back, and make excuses for them saying, "They've had a rough life, that's the best they can do."


Have you listened to and soothed someones ego through their divorce, bad relationships and bad choices. Have you ever thought that, that someone, really could respect you and your own choices for your life.


Have you ever felt you were losing a part of yourself when you tried to have empathy for someone who could not feel empathy for them self, much less others.

Have you reached that moment when you realize what a lot of time you wasted thinking that someone was who they weren't. Sometimes things and people are as they seem. You can read the book by the cover, after all.


Do you know that nanosecond when the spite from this person has now been aimed at your child? It's easy to see at that moment what a coward looks like. So you take the knife out of your back and realize what little effort will be needed to carry on without them.