In the last of my fall commitments I travelled to Halifax for the CCRC (Canadian Cancer Research Conference.) Before I left though I had a meeting with my oncologist. This time I didn't get the expected "remarkably unremarkable" comment from him.
I don't recommend taking an exotic international trip two days after the 3 day novel contest ends.
This will be the fourth year I have written a novella in the 3 day contest. Each time it truly is an amazing experience. I started on Saturday morning with an idea, a character or two, and a rough plot (maybe), and then put my fingers to the keyboard. There is something about the boundaries and pressure of time that keep the fingers moving.
For years I have worn a hat, a wool Cowichan style in winter and a broad brimmed soft hat in summer. When I went to the first Cancer Connection mentor training workshop, folks commented on my red hat a lot. And it became a "thing." The first red toque was a microfleece picked up at a dollar store. Last Christmas I set out to knit a wool version with the idea of doing a few to share with my boys. It was an unmitigated disaster. You can not learn to knit from YouTube. Or at least I can't.
I've had a few things going on and writing has gone by the way side for a few months. It was a bit of a surprise when the solstice rolled by and I suddenly found myself facing Canada Day. I have kind of an easy month ahead of me. The first thing I thought I would do is catch every body up on my travels and advocacy.
If there is one thing cancer is, it is complex. Understanding that complexity feels like the hockey player who won't change their socks. They are winning and are afraid that changing anything might upset the delicate balance.
My practice in making New Years resolutions is not to make them. But over the last few years I have chosen a word to act as a theme for my year. For example "Adventure" was the word for the beginning of the pandemic and the lockdown.
But more importantly my word this year is Courage. And so I have been looking at my life and trying to take the bold steps that will allow my life to feel more fully lived.
Solving is all about logic and mathematics. I have had a traumatic relationship with mathematics all my life. I had no problem with arithmetic but I squeaked out of university calculus with 53%. The only good thing about that was that I knew I had gotten it myself. it had been 51% I would have always wondered.
I feel a bit like the boy in the story crying "Wolf." I have been crying "cancer" for much longer than I expected (and I suspect longer than most of you expected.) When I got the prognosis that said "Five percent make it to five years" I didn't think I would make it. Those odds didn't look good to me and I prepared myself. I got my affairs in order; I prepared a client transition plan; and I bade farewell to doing first aid. All this in the face of my brother telling me to go buy a cruise ticket for five years out. I didn't do it.
Remind me not to leave it three months before I write a newsletter. Get a cup of coffee and settle in. There is a lot of water under the bridge and a lot to read.
Before you get started if you want to make a donation to my Run for the Cure campaign the link is: https://support.cancer.ca/site/TR/RunfortheCure/RFTC_NW_odd_?px=12977008&pg=personal&fr_id=28512