I have an announcement about my cancer. It's Roberto Luongo's fault.
Seriously. If he's going to get all the blame for how sad sack the Vancouver Canucks have started this season, then I'm tagging him for my Solitary Plasmacytoma tumour. He's probably behind the eight back surgeries and the six months in the hospital, too.
I blame him for proliferation of singing shows on television and for the fact that I wasn't 100 per cent certain that proliferation was the right word there and I had to Google it. I blame him for Google, Twitter and Tweet and IPad and all those techie terms that I feel a little goofy everytime I say. I blame him for Kenny Loggins not having anything to do with the new Footloose.
I blame him for my yearning for Pumpkin Spice Latte. I blame him for long division. No. Scratch that. I blame him for math in general.
And, before we get too ahead of ourselves, I bet he's the guy behind Impark. It's got to be him.
I'd like to blame him for why Crush The Tumour With Humour (CTTWH) has been idle of late, but I can't, and only in part because it would give more ammo to the lunatic fringe who think the above four paragraphs makes complete sense. (The Impark one may have merit, mind you.)
I haven't been writing because I've been busy trying to get better. Still at the pool four or five mornings a week. Still walking lots "free style" -- my rock star home physio Paula Peres has me up to 1.6 kilometres, and that includes varying surfaces and inclines. It's very strange. Paula will take Evander (my cane) away and my body will tense right up. She says it's a matter of my body not understanding how hard I need to work to do things now. She has a point. When I go Evander-less around the house these days, I'm not tense at all.
(TIME OUT: You keep hearing that Luongo is terrible. Really? Keep hearing that the Canucks should trade him. Really? Team is coming off their best season ever and he was a major reason why and he's being lambasted and lampooned for a poor start. Wasn't that the lowest scoring Stanley Cup final ever? No one wants to talk about that.)
Paula's happy enough in fact she's only seeing me once a week, down from twice. That has to be a sign of progress.
I'm also working between 20 and 30 hours a week. I did my first Vancouver Giants practice "free style," on Thursday morning, and survived the ordeal.
I even went to a Canuck game with Carol-Ann and sat in the stands, rather than the press box. Lots of stairs to be scaled, lots of people to navigated around.
I'm sure I was the same way before THE CANCER, but I can't believe how little people pay attention to folks with canes and walkers and even wheel chair. Getting cut-off and or tail gated.... it drives my poor Carol-Ann crazy.
We did have a good time at the game, for what it's worth. I would have liked it more if Roberto played, though, to be honest.
Showing posts with label Carol-Ann. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carol-Ann. Show all posts
Friday, October 28, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Doing the Kane Cane; cancer rehab improves enough to move from walker to walking stick
The good news is that my physio has cleared me to start using a cane for walking. The best news is that I've already got a name for it -- Evander.
Evander Kane just happens to be one of my all-time favourite athletes. He might be the most competitive person I've ever met. My favourite memory of him dates back to him being a 15-year-old call-up with the Vancouver Giants during their 2007 Memorial Cup run. In practice, he took a hack on the hands from Brendan Mikkelson, then a 19-year-old defenceman who had already signed a pro contract with the Anaheim Ducks. Kane said something to him, gave him a stiff right to the mouth, and skated away. Mikkelson shrugged and went the other direction.
It's not the kind of thing that wins you favour with your teammates. Evander knows that. It definitely went against your "respect your elders" code, but it gave an idea that Kane wanted what he wanted and wasn't afraid to upset people to get it. It's something I could appreciate.
Off the ice, he's always been very good to me and he was one of the first athletes I've covered to call me after I got the cancer diagnosis last October.
We're actually supposed to get together over the next few weeks, and hopefully I can introduce Evander Kane to Evander Cane.
My physio, Paula Peres, had me up on the cane, instead of the walker, last Tuesday, and I went from the laundry room in our basement, through the back yard, to the end of the driveway. She says that I can use it on a limited basis for the next while, as long as Carol-Ann is around.
I've only been out of GF Strong for about a month, so I think it's decent progress, at the very least. Paula says that she's pleased, too.
This rehab thing is still hard, though. I wake up sore every morning and it takes me awhile to feel even somewhat human. I don't know if it's the six rods and who gknows how many screws in my back, but it might be that. And emotionally I feel beat up at times; I cried much of Thursday, frustrated about how I was feeling and how tired I was and how worn out Carol-Ann is, from having to do so much more around the house.
Carol-Ann has been an angel, though, like always. She's keeping me together a lot of days, helping me focus on how far I've come rather than how far I have to go.
My spirits are better today. I had a good session at the pool (we're going four or five times a week...just walking in the shallow end right now) and felt like I had some jump afterwards.
Maybe a little work with my new friend Evander will work wonders for my psyche, too.
Evander Kane just happens to be one of my all-time favourite athletes. He might be the most competitive person I've ever met. My favourite memory of him dates back to him being a 15-year-old call-up with the Vancouver Giants during their 2007 Memorial Cup run. In practice, he took a hack on the hands from Brendan Mikkelson, then a 19-year-old defenceman who had already signed a pro contract with the Anaheim Ducks. Kane said something to him, gave him a stiff right to the mouth, and skated away. Mikkelson shrugged and went the other direction.
It's not the kind of thing that wins you favour with your teammates. Evander knows that. It definitely went against your "respect your elders" code, but it gave an idea that Kane wanted what he wanted and wasn't afraid to upset people to get it. It's something I could appreciate.
Off the ice, he's always been very good to me and he was one of the first athletes I've covered to call me after I got the cancer diagnosis last October.
We're actually supposed to get together over the next few weeks, and hopefully I can introduce Evander Kane to Evander Cane.
My physio, Paula Peres, had me up on the cane, instead of the walker, last Tuesday, and I went from the laundry room in our basement, through the back yard, to the end of the driveway. She says that I can use it on a limited basis for the next while, as long as Carol-Ann is around.
I've only been out of GF Strong for about a month, so I think it's decent progress, at the very least. Paula says that she's pleased, too.
This rehab thing is still hard, though. I wake up sore every morning and it takes me awhile to feel even somewhat human. I don't know if it's the six rods and who gknows how many screws in my back, but it might be that. And emotionally I feel beat up at times; I cried much of Thursday, frustrated about how I was feeling and how tired I was and how worn out Carol-Ann is, from having to do so much more around the house.
Carol-Ann has been an angel, though, like always. She's keeping me together a lot of days, helping me focus on how far I've come rather than how far I have to go.
My spirits are better today. I had a good session at the pool (we're going four or five times a week...just walking in the shallow end right now) and felt like I had some jump afterwards.
Maybe a little work with my new friend Evander will work wonders for my psyche, too.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Come on Irene: Yet another role model vaults to forefront in midst of cancer, back surgery rehab
My hero list continues to grow.
I don't know too much about Irene. I think she's a touch older than me. She arrived at G.F. Strong, the Vancouver physical rehab centre, from Vancouver General Hospital, a few days after this, my third instalment there.
We do share the same spine surgeon, Dr. Robert Lee. Dr. Lee regularly asks about other patients of his that I've come across at GF, and during my check-up this week I remembered to tell him about seeing Irene doing laps in the gymnasium with her walker when I was doing the same.
His eyes got big. Real big. So did his smile.
Why? Seems that the doctors at VGH gave Irene a 10 per cent chance of ever walking again after a car accident sent her to hospital. Her injuries were sustained in the cervical vertebrae, the ones nearest the skull.
Irene even did some laps without a walker this week, leaning instead on the arms of a rehab assistant. And she proudly proclaims "I will walk out of here," in regards to her discharge in late May.
Coming across her story and her attitude was exactly what I needed. I had been feeling a little sorry for myself. I had hoped to be home by late Ap ril, and when I was given a May 26 discharge date I frequently put my sulk on.
I focussed too much on the rotten things that I have happened to me, rather than the fact that all the medical people I've talked to have said that I have the chance to walk out of GF as well.
In fact, I have a chance to be healthier and happier and smarter on, lets say, May 30, 2011, than I was May 30, 2010, and that's after a bout with cancer (Solitary Plasmacytoma, in my T-2 vertebrae), two back rebuild surgeries, a muscle-flap surgery, and four surgeries to combat three infections. It is, in part, an indictment of my lifestyle a year ago, but no matter.
This is my fourth straight weekend at home and I feel like I did more yesterday -- highlighted by going out for lunch with my parents, grandmother, an aunt and uncle and Carol-Ann, plus sitting out in the yard for a time -- than I did in my previous three leaves combined. My occupational therapist, Erin, is trying to healthy up my diet -- I even made split-pea soup earlier this week.
I feel like I'm back going in the right direction, and I have at least one more prominent reason why.
Thank you, Irene.
I don't know too much about Irene. I think she's a touch older than me. She arrived at G.F. Strong, the Vancouver physical rehab centre, from Vancouver General Hospital, a few days after this, my third instalment there.
We do share the same spine surgeon, Dr. Robert Lee. Dr. Lee regularly asks about other patients of his that I've come across at GF, and during my check-up this week I remembered to tell him about seeing Irene doing laps in the gymnasium with her walker when I was doing the same.
His eyes got big. Real big. So did his smile.
Why? Seems that the doctors at VGH gave Irene a 10 per cent chance of ever walking again after a car accident sent her to hospital. Her injuries were sustained in the cervical vertebrae, the ones nearest the skull.
Irene even did some laps without a walker this week, leaning instead on the arms of a rehab assistant. And she proudly proclaims "I will walk out of here," in regards to her discharge in late May.
Coming across her story and her attitude was exactly what I needed. I had been feeling a little sorry for myself. I had hoped to be home by late Ap ril, and when I was given a May 26 discharge date I frequently put my sulk on.
I focussed too much on the rotten things that I have happened to me, rather than the fact that all the medical people I've talked to have said that I have the chance to walk out of GF as well.
In fact, I have a chance to be healthier and happier and smarter on, lets say, May 30, 2011, than I was May 30, 2010, and that's after a bout with cancer (Solitary Plasmacytoma, in my T-2 vertebrae), two back rebuild surgeries, a muscle-flap surgery, and four surgeries to combat three infections. It is, in part, an indictment of my lifestyle a year ago, but no matter.
This is my fourth straight weekend at home and I feel like I did more yesterday -- highlighted by going out for lunch with my parents, grandmother, an aunt and uncle and Carol-Ann, plus sitting out in the yard for a time -- than I did in my previous three leaves combined. My occupational therapist, Erin, is trying to healthy up my diet -- I even made split-pea soup earlier this week.
I feel like I'm back going in the right direction, and I have at least one more prominent reason why.
Thank you, Irene.
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