Back to Emergency

Hi Friends,

Catherine and I came back yesterday from a really nice few days in Cobourg. We saw her family and spent time with friends who came to visit from Toronto and Kingston. Before we left, however, I could feel some discomfort in my back. For about 20 years I've had a cyst on the left side of my lower back. It has been growing in size incredibly slowly, and, other than having it checked each year at my physical, I haven't needed to think about it. It was hurting on the drive back to Toronto, and when we arrived I asked Catherine to look at it, and yes, it was red. The last thing I needed was an infection this close to surgery, so, in we went again to emergency. We went to Toronto General and it was a zoo of people with respiratory illnesses and the flu. All of the care workers were in masks (I wore mine as well). The wait time to even check in was at least an hour and they weren't able to make any accommodations for people just of chemo (like they did the last time we visited). We signed the wait list, went outside to get away from all of the sick people, and decided to walk down to Mount Sinai, the other hospital nearby with an emergency department. Fortunately, the line was shorter and we could stay at more of a distance from the other patients. Once an isolation room was available, they let us sit in there until we were seen. After giving me some some blessed freezing, the doctor drained the cyst and packed the wound. I never thought that a cyst would become an issue, but, of course, chemo weakens the immune system so that you are unable to fend off infections from the outside or the inside. This thing has been dormant for 2 decades and then flared up this week. Oh well, better this week than next week, eh? Catherine changed the outside dressing once today (it looked pretty nasty with lots of bruising and the like), and a home care nurse will be by in a few days to repack it. I'm back on the couch tonight, sore, but ok.
Chemo truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
Much love,
Kip

Blended Cultures

Dear Friends,

The first photo was sent to me from Abbie Bakan, who
is Catherine’s sister-in-law (and my friend and colleague
at Queen’s). The Chanamas Bush belongs to the
Bakan/Kellogg family and represents their respective
backgrounds (Chana(kkah) + (Christ)mas = Chanamas).
The bush came to their family from their late
Great-Grandma Grace, is made out of plastic, wood
and metal and is miraculously still able to stay assembled
for the entire Chanamas season. The second photo was
sent on by Brenda Ravenscroft (also my friend and
colleague at Queen’s). Brenda hails from South Africa,
and their lovely light display is of an African ostrich.
Thanks to both Abbie and Brenda for sending on images
of their blended traditions. 

We have had a nice few days here in Cobourg. My pain
continues, but my energy is good. Mostly I feel like I
have the immune system of a three-year-old, catching
little bugs as they go by. Fortunately, I have been using
Cold-FX which seems to stop these bugs before they can
get very far. Two viruses in one week is a bit much, but I
guess that’s to be expected. Abbie is keeping us extremely
well fed, we had 11 for Christmas dinner (Catherine
cooked up a storm that night), and we are getting rest. 

We head back to Toronto tomorrow where we will
continue our celebrations. 

Much love to all,

Kip

Lights from Edmonton

Hi Everyone,
This is my friend Rory who lives just north of Edmonton with his mom Patty (who has been a regular contributor to the blog). The photo was taken at Maisie's Magical Christmas house in Edmonton. This is a great photo, Patty, and thanks.
We did a little food shopping today and bought a turkey. Tomorrow, Catherine's brother Paul and sister-in-law Abbie will drive us to Cobourg where we will be staying in a nice motel by Lake Ontario called "The Breakers." That way we can visit Catherine's mother Mary and her family. Catherine hasn't had many chances to see her mother over the fall because of her caregiving for me, so this will be our opportunity to see her and all the Kelloggs.
More soon and much love,
Kip

Christmas Lights

Hi Friends,
Many thanks to Linda (Julie's sister) and her partner Tamra for sending a photo of some *really* fancy lights at the Parliament Buildings. Fantastic.
If you have any lights to share, please send along a photo.
Yesterday I went to my pre-op clinic. Catherine was not allowed to attend and we wondered why. As it turns out, there were a number of older women there who needed translators, so it was a space issue. One woman spoke no English at all and was trying hard to keep up with the simultaneous translation. She had a very trying few hours, and I really felt for her. Then there was Winnie, a senior Chinese woman who had been to this rodeo before - 1 chemo and two surgeries, and back for her third. When I asked her how she was handling another surgery she just smiled and waved her hand as if to say "been here, done this before." Each one of of the patients (6 in total) was having a different procedure (one was a lumpectomy, the rest were mastectomies, some with no lymph involvement, some with lymph dissection, some with a sentinel node biopsy on the other side just to be sure there isn't also cancer there). I was the only one getting the full procedure - a double with lymph dissection next to Tito and sentinel node biopsy next to blanket. My surgery will be about three hours long.
But I'm going to try and put that procedure out of my head for the time being and just enjoy the holidays and the feeling of not being in chemo. Surgery will come when it comes and we will be ready for it.
As part of the clinic, we were visited by physiotherapists (I got more squeegee balls, but no rope), a dietitian, and a social worker. The social worker talked about the importance of support and being able to reach out. She was an older woman who didn't know about the power of blogs, so I'm going to share with her more of my experience in case that might be of help to new patients. She was very impressed with my tremendous support network, and I think this blog can model for her what's possible during treatment and recovery.
Much love,
Kip

Thanks for your many gifts

Hi Friends,
I want to thank you all for your continued gifts and thoughts and acts of love. I've had food delivered at the door, gifts left outside on the porch, bread sent by courier, CDs come by mail, pictures sent to my inbox, and the list goes on and on. Today, Julie Salverson, who is visiting Japan, sent me these photos of the Golden Temple in Kyoto, where she lit a candle for me (the tall one on the right). Thank you Julie.
We had a wonderful dinner last night. We ordered a fantastic bottle of wine, I enjoyed a full glass, and my body was entirely cooperative. When the bill came, I was informed that my brother Fred, who lives in Halifax, had called the restaurant in advance to pay for the wine. Such a sweet gesture. Something I have learned about myself over the last few months is that when people reach out to me and show kindness, I'm really touched, often to the point of tears. I have cried many times this fall when your gifts have arrived and I have witnessed your acts of love. Needless to say, when I realized what Fred had done, I really teared up. Fortunately, Catherine has taught me that public crying is always permissible (she calls herself a "professional" public cryer), so I'm getting more comfortable with it now. Each time I tried to thank my loved ones last night for helping me get through these past few months I teared up and wasn't able to speak. But I know they understood.
What I also realized last night is that when you have a hot flash in public you just can't rip everything off and throw your chinchilla on your shoulder. I'm now used to being in my own home and immediately readjusting my temperature. I reached for my hat a few times, but caught myself before I took it off. Next lesson: always wear layers.
Love,
Kip

Small Steps

Dear Friends,

It has been a few days since my last entry. I had a good week and felt like my body slowly is coming back. I had several appointments this week, one on Tuesday with Ruth my G.P., who took time to talk with me, and, after an exam, told me that I had a "tremendous response" to the chemotherapy (she gave me my last exam at the beginning of August, so she was impressed with the overall change). She also told me that the joint and muscle pain from the Taxol will likely continue for months, not weeks. At least it's good to know what to expect.
Then Wednesday at noon, Catherine and I went to a lymphedema clinic at PMH. As my cousin Ellen said, "Oh great, more information about terrifying shit that *might* happen to you." So true. Three out of ten people who have this surgery develop lymphedema, so while it's more likely you don't get it, they want you to have information in case it happens. I didn't know what it was: apparently, once they remove some of the lymph nodes under the arm, fluids can have a hard time getting back up the arm so it swells up. This can happen right after surgery, or can happen at any point after that. One woman at the clinic finished her treatment a year ago and just last week her arm swelled up. Sometimes as you get older and the lymphatic system becomes more compromised, it happens then. Humph. So I will do all my exercises to keep fluids flowing.
Speaking of exercise, they also informed us that 3-5 hours of cardio per week reduces the risk of breast cancer recurrence by 50%. If I ever needed a reason to be hitting the gym more often, I have it now.
I was kind of shaken after that clinic: suggestions for taking short showers rather than baths (to avoid heat and swelling), precautions for airplane trips (changes in pressure), avoid shoveling and heavy lifting, etc. I'm really hoping this isn't part of my future, and I'll do everything I can to avoid it. Starting with a physiotherapist (I have some good names and will start shopping next week).
After the clinic, we took a cab up to Sunnybrook where my cousin Ellen and her husband Gary were for a follow-up appointment. We had a short and really nice visit with them. Ellen's wig is great and she looks really good.
Finally, we caught a cab to see my opthamologist. She wanted to see me after chemo, because the taxol can be hard on the eyes. Sure enough, my eyes are totally dried out to the point that I have some neuropathy (although taxol makes you tear up so you don't know how dry the eye actually is). I'm on special drops every four hours until April.
I had an amazing experience as we left that appointment: my eyes were dilated, and it was dark (5:30), and we caught a cab down Yonge Street to pick up the Lake Shore home. With dilated eyes, Yonge Street looked like a fantasyland. I've never been on acid, but this must be the closest experience: all of the Christmas lights, the trees, oh it was so beautiful. I sat in the backseat of the cab with Catherine, relieved to have had my appointments, enjoying the lights, finished with chemo. Fantastic.
After a big day, I rested Thursday, then yesterday I went to see a matinee with Barb (before all the kiddies got out of school). Judy Davidson and Catherine were shopping yesterday and the three of us had a quiet night at home yesterday. A great end to the week.
And tonight--tonight!-I am taking Catherine, Julie and Susan out for dinner to thank them for taking such good care of me. I wish you all could come with us. We are going to a little Italian restaurant up at Bloor and Royal York I've never been to (but Catherine and Julie really like it), and I'll have half a glass of wine. I had a few sips of red wine last night. It tasted wonderful but didn't settle well with my stomach. Tonight I'll just have a symbolic sip.
I will toast all of you.
Love,
Kip

My Chinchilla

Hi Friends,

Well, tonight I'm one big ache, especially in my hands and feet, which is apparent largely when I'm not hot flashing. Giddy up. When the heat comes up in my body, I rip off my little black toque that Catherine brought me in September. I call it "Chinchilla" which, according to Wiki, is a small crepuscular rodent (please see image above). Sometimes Chinchilla sits on my shoulder while I cool off, sometimes I lose it under the couch and have to go on a hunt for it. I'm incredibly grateful for it - I had no idea how much I'd miss my hair, not only for aesthetic reasons, but because it simply keeps my head warm. How do bald folks manage?
It's fortunate that Catherine likes the shape of my head. Sometimes when I'm sitting and minding my own business, I feel a hand playing with the shape of my head and stroking my very short "hair." When Julie was a kid, she had a hamster named Spike, and this has become my new nickname. "Hello, Spike" Catherine says lovingly. At least we can laugh and have some fun with it until my new sexy Elvis hair grows in (dream with me).
Love,
Kip

Hi Kip:

Here's another yo-yo....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAkoYcfDmrk

Much love and see you soon!

Abbie

To the Tune of "Surrey with the Fringe on Top"

Jeeps and trucks and police better scurry
this kid's comin' home in a hurry
no more pokin', proddin or worry
'cause my chemo's stopped.

Watch me now and see what I'm doin'
Lots of things that I've been a savin'
Looking forward with anticipation
to escape this incarceration.

The weather is cold and the snow is nigh
I want the time to enjoy it all
Looking forward to things I have missed
Even doing the shopping mall.

So look world I'm comin' back
Just watch me bloom and grow
With thanks to my friends who love me
I'll be dropping in to say...hello.


Thanks to Mamma Clarke for putting pen to paper and coming up with these new lyrics.

I'm feeling good today, tired right now, but good. My biggest challenge these days is sleep. A quick onset of chemically-induced menopause really throws the body for a total loop. At night, it's like having restless leg syndrome but for the whole body...while you sweat. And then get chilled. Then sweat again. No combination of drugs seems to make any difference. I'll be in to see the doctor this week to see if there's something we can do.
Still, I'd take this over chemo, anyday.

Here's my latest fave flash mob (thanks again Momma Clarke), guaranteed to make you smile or cry, or both.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NB3NPNM4xgo&feature=player_embedded

Much love,
Kip

The Waiting Game

Hi Friends,
It's day seven, so I'm just starting my low three days, but I'm doing alright. I still have quite a bit of joint and muscle pain which seems to worsen at night, but I'm slowly getting myself back. Now it's a waiting game...I sooo want to go out into the world, but I'm not yet up to it and still too vulnerable. Hence, the yoyo, which Shannon Lord sent to me early in the chemo process. I'm relearning how to "walk the dog." I suck at it.
I'd like to give you all an update on other folks and their treatment: Shannon (Susan Lord's sister for those of you at Queen's) had her second mastectomy last week and it went well (she went through breast cancer last year and had a single mastectomy at that time). Dorit's brother Michael, who lives in Tel Aviv, had his first chemo treatment for lymphoma and it went very well. He has three months of treatment to go. My cousin Ellen had her first round of chemo since her surgery for ovarian cancer and she's having a rough go. We will learn tomorrow more about how many more rounds she will have. Karen Frederickson's next chemo is on Friday. I'm letting you all know so you can keep them and their support networks in your thoughts.
On a very happy note, Catherine's cousin, Elaine Kellogg, a United Church minister in Yarker, recently finished 8 rounds of chemo for stage 4 lymphoma and is now cancer free. She will be stopping by to see us tomorrow afternoon and we will celebrate her good health.
I am overwhelmed by the resilience and strength of these people fighting cancer.
I am in amazing company.
Love,
Kip

Left Chemo, Now "In Treatment"

Hi All,
Well, Catherine rented the entire first season of "In Treatment" last week and the three of us have been enjoying a marathon of episodes. We finished the first season tonight, so, between my "In Treatment" withdrawal and the feeling that I finished chemo and should be entitled to *anything* I want, I just ordered the second season from Amazon. That should arrive by the weekend and help get me though the last few weeks of recuperation.
I had my weekend of pain as predicted; yesterday was my hardest day of pain but the oxycodone kept me intact. As of today, for the first time since I started chemo, my body should get progressively stronger and healthier. Catherine and I sat for for a bit on the coach this afternoon, breathed, and watched the snow fly past the window. I had been waiting for that scene since August when we sat here in a heat wave looking at the green leaves on the trees outside trying to visualize winter. The snow today was really lovely, just as pretty as I imagined it four months ago. Prettier.
I believe I mentioned previously that after chemo started I lost my gray hair first, then brown, and then I was left with very thin light brown hair, the colour I had as a baby. I never lost that hair completely, and, in fact, it continued to grow. It has grown from a quarter inch to, well, long enough to stand up on end and make me look like an installation at the Ontario Science Centre. We will take the razor to it tomorrow. The next time we will need the razor, I hope to have a full head of thick hair (with colour and texture yet to be determined...chemo can change both of those). Maybe I'll get the Elvis hair I've always wanted?
I'm off to take my pain meds and head off to bed.
Much love,
Kip

Day two, for the last time

Dear Friends,

This picture was made by my friend 11-year old friend Felix Guenette. Thanks, Felix, for sending this to me...it's great.
I had a very good day today, and tonight, the pain is setting in. Catherine is monitoring me carefully and we are staying on top of the medications. Cath has been dreaming about babies lately, and it makes sense - the first weekend after chemo treatments we set the alarm for every four hours so that her little bald sweetie can "feed" on medications. She says I don't look sick but that I look like a little baby. I'm relieved and happy that that's how she sees me.
We had a good day at chemo yesterday. For the first time we had our own room, an isolation room for folks with compromised immune systems. That wasn't my situation, but it was available and we really enjoyed it. Catherine was very tired and overwhelmed and at one point crawled up on the bed with me and cried. A volunteer passing by gave us some warm blankets and we just snuggled in while the drip continued. Kathy, my friend from Ottawa came in on the train and she and Julie arrived at the room at about 1:30, just as I was finishing up. As I rang the bell, there were many tears of joy and the nurses "whooped" and applauded. God, that felt so good.
We drove home to the playlist which was fantastic, and people were guessing who suggested each of the songs. Thank you again for submitting those. I'll listen to that CD in the years to come and remember the support I had throughout my chemo.
We then returned home to a phone message from Julie Salverson who, with her partner Bill, was ringing her bell in McBurney Park in Kingston. Then I learned of all of the other bells - in the School of Music (Sheri posted that video on youtube, the link is in her post), in the music library, in the Department of Film and Media, in backyards, at dinner tables. Thank you all for loving me so beautifully. It has meant so much to me over the past few months.
Time for bed.
Love to all,
Kip

The Ringing of the Bell

Almost there...

Hi Friends,
It's the last night before my last chemo. We have been crossing off the days of November, and as I look at the photo, I see that with each passing week my hand has become increasingly firmer as I make an "x."
I now have a terrific playlist together for the drive home and to help get me through the next few weeks. Thank you.
Have I mentioned the bell ringing ritual? (I think so, but chemo brain...) The chemo ward has a navy bell called the "Liberty Bell" and patients ring it as they leave their last chemo. It makes me tear up every time I hear it - I think of what people (and their family and friends) have gone through for the last few months or even years. The patients getting chemo, all hooked up to their IV poles, clap (to the extent that they can) and cheer and nurses line up to applaud and give the graduate a hug. It's really moving. I'll be giving the bell my best effort tomorrow.
To add to the festivities, my parents will be ringing their navy bell tomorrow afternoon in Halifax and Julie Salverson will ring a bell in Kingston on my behalf. We will post a picture of our ritual at the Princess Margaret once we get home tomorrow.
With love,
Kip