Day off from radiation, due to Remembrance Day. (Please take some time to think about our heroes.)
My throat is sore still, so Carol-Ann is rounding up ingredients for smoothies. We're into that mode now. We were told it was coming. I'm going to go to the Vancouver Giants/Chilliwack Bruins game this afternoon in Chilliwack. Marc Weber, who is covering off junior hockey for me while I'm away, will give me a ride.
In interest of full disclosure (which has become one of my favourite phrases in the last couple of weeks...I'm not sure why) I had a meltdown last night. I was cleaning myself up at the end of the night in the bathroom, and just started to ball and bellow, "I'm tired of cancer...I'm tired of cancer...I just want to be a regular guy again." I am frustrated. I can't help out Carol-Ann around the house very much yet. That bugs me. I used to do our cooking and a bunch of the laundry and the grocery shopping.
I can't even get up the stairs, even with how much my mobility has improved. We have this beautiful 2,600-square foot house, and I haven't seen two floors of it since Oct. 19. Bluntly, I haven't slept in the same bed as my wife since then. (Don't panic. If you're looking for the XXX-Cancer site, you've come to the wrong place, just so you know.) I miss that. I miss reaching out in the middle of the night and finding her and doing something as simple as putting my hand on her shoulder and knowing that she's right there.
Carol-Ann got my calmed down eventually, and I actually got a decent night's sleep.
The funny thing about it all is that we had had a really fun night, and talked little about cancer. My Cancer Coach, Bif Naked (SHAMELESS NAME DROP) came over with all sorts of menu ideas and even brought a bunch of food. She and Carol-Ann worked me up a blackberry/banana smoothie which was awesome. My dad was there for a bit, and then Bob Mercer, a former Province colleague, and his gal Jackie came over.
I worked closely with Bob for four or five years when I was covering high school. He was routinely assigned editing and laying out the Thursday two-page spread. We had a very good back and forth on stories and ideas, and he's one of the guys who really took me under his wing professionally.
He's also real sharp, like Bif, and we ended up riffing on the education system and music (Bob's a former Georgia Strait editor) and books.
And then I broke down after everybody left. And you know what -- I know it's normal. We have cancer. It's scary. You're supposed to cry. If I wasn't crying from time to time, that would be a problem. Same goes for my wife. I know that.
With that, I'm looking forward to going to the game today. I feel safe in hockey rinks. I know my way around. And Carol-Ann gets time off for her, and we've been told time and time again that you can't tax the caregivers too much.
And I could use a good car ride with Marc. Talking to him is probably exactly what I need.
I met him when I was doing high school/university and he was the sports information director at UBC. He's kind of a pretty guy (OH...THAT FELT SO GOOD) but we became buddies anyway. He's played on our softball team and was at our wedding.
We had an opening at the Province four years back. (Four years? Three years? You get the idea. Math is hard.) I recommended him, and he ended up getting the job. So, at the very least, knowing me didn't hurt him there, or at least that's how I'm playing it. (OH...that didn't feel so good.)
He's passionate about the business, about the actual story telling and just where things are going regarding use of the internet. I'm sure we'll go back and forth on those things the whole ride. I get jacked up about doing a better job after talking to him.
In closing...I have to leave off on good note. I got a text from John Shorthouse (SHAMELESS NAME DROP) stating: "Hey buddy. Just read your story online. I can't express how much I wish I was there to give you a bear hug...and hopefully steal your wallet."