Checking in on Amy

I don't have a particular date that I can call my 'cancerversary.' I know that about a year ago I was pretty sure I had cancer and had started taking steps to find out. March 10th was the day I was assessed by a caring and compassionate oncologist who, though she could not definitively confirm that I had cancer, told me that it was very likely. It was not until around March 25 that I finally heard the words, but hearing the words really just confirmed what I already knew. So now, with the 'big three' cancer treatments done (chemo, surgery, radiation) and some preventative immunotherapy and hormone therapy underway I am trying to figure out how to define myself. I am no longer calling myself a 'cancer patient' although I still hang out in the chemo suite from time to time. Maintaining this connection to the Cancer Centre makes it difficult to NOT feel like a cancer patient and also offers an ongoing connection to my caregivers so that I don't feel abandon

Since people who read this blog include those who love me BUT may not want to read about things I might write about sex and vaginas, consider this your fair warning. No judgement. I can totally dig not wanting to hear about these things from your sister, for example. ;) I have been taking my 'menopause meds' for about 2 months now. As I was already in a chemo-induced menopause (ovaries have been asleep since the spring) I wasn't really sure what kind of symptoms or changes I might expect. When discussing this medication my oncologist (who is wonderful) gave a very quick rundown of major symptoms (hot flashes, fatigue, sleep troubles, joint pain...) and I replied 'Yeah, menopause symptoms' and he said 'yup.' And that was that.  My perception of menopause has been that it is a time where hormones change, periods stop, hot flashes and sleep problems happen, and people have mood swings. Hot flashes and mood swings related to this 'change of life' are jok

Most of you know that I am a teacher. There were many times in the last year when I wished I had a different job so that I could have done some work part-time. I felt pretty good every 3rd week through chemo last spring and for about six weeks this autumn between surgery and radiation. Unfortunately teaching is an all-or-nothing kind of job. A job where I am either ready and able to supervise, educate, and care for 30+ humans or not. The logistics of medical leave and the need for consistency for students means there is no way for me to arrange to pop in on weeks I'm feeling fine. Unfortunately, being on medical leave also means that I am not permitted on school property even when I'm feeling good. No visits with colleagues, no special events, no chance to go in and organize cupboards on the days I'm feeling good. Since I left work last March I have done quite a bit of reflection about this career of mine. I love teaching. I miss it. At the same time I find it hard to imagi

I'm someone who has always been quite happy to be a bit of a hermit. I love a weekend with no plans. I look forward to quiet days when I can spend time reading, walking, and working on craft projects. I sometimes need to give myself a little push to say 'yes' to an invitation to get out and do something. This winter a good neighbourhood friend encouraged a bunch of us to sign up for a 'learn to curl' class and it has been great fun, but I never would have initiated such a thing on my own. I wrote in the last post about my long absence from the online workout community I've belonged to for a while. I am also lucky to belong to an equally fabulous online knitting community created by another wonderful human named Lisa. (Yes, in my life only people named 'Lisa' invite me to online communities. Lol.) The knitting community was created during COVID as a form of social connection for a group of educators who were also knitters and crocheters. Everyone was feel