Oh hi! I seem to have left you in the lurch. When last we met, I mentioned that I had been called back for a biopsy because of changes in my left breast, and that I was awaiting the results. In the interim, we ran into some technical glitches with regards to this blog. It seems it wouldn’t update on the CHFI website past mid-October. This led to some strangely hilarious interactions. For example, my dentist said he’d read my blog and it sounded like I’d had a great time. I thought he was referring to the MRI, but he was talking about a family trip to Boston. Another friend mentioned that she appreciated me taking on such a serious subject, and that it seemed to be everywhere, and that it’s time we stopped blaming the victims. Again, I thought she was talking about cancer, and I wondered what she meant by victim blaming … but it turns out she meant my blog post on sexual harassment and the #MeToo movement. Oh. Right.


Anyway. I’m fine. We got the results last week. John joined me for a two hour wait at Princess Margaret Cancer Centre, just like he did 12 years ago the first time I was diagnosed. We sat in an examining room, while he caught up on email. My phone had died, and I was thinking of making a fort out of tongue depressors and latex gloves, when the good doctor popped in to say all was well, move along, nothing to see here. We were, of course, delighted. Nothing puts you in a better mood than thinking you’re going to die and finding out that you’re not. Not yet, anyway. Another doctor of mine, the late and wonderful Rob Buckman, used to say that they’ve made great strides in medicine, but the mortality rate is ultimately still 100%. But I’m good for the shorter term, although I do have to go back in tube for another MRI in 6 months. That’s fine. I can use the downtime.


In the mean time, thank you so much for all your emails. Lots of you who managed to find my blog other than via the website sent messages of love and support. Many of them moved me to tears. I tried to respond to all, but I know I probably missed a few. My occasional brushes with out of control cell growth are nothing compared to the losses some of you have suffered. Cancer can be a real s**t show, no doubt. The worst of it for me is how helpless it can make you feel. You can do everything right, take care of yourself, eat properly, exercise, give to research, and still the bad cooties can take you down. It is a humbling experience. I think that living life to its fullest is the best and only revenge. Which is how I came to drink an entire bottle of celebratory champagne that night, and spent the next morning wondering if an untimely demise would in fact be so terrible.


Thanks again for the love. Take good care. And if that doesn’t work, try to have as much fun as possible.


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