Hip fracture setback

For the past several weeks my general mobility and pain levels deteriorated to the point where I had to be transported to Guelph General Hospital via ambulance. No longer able to walk, I required immediate surgery to correct a hip fracture, a break in the upper quarter of the femur (thigh bone) caused by my aggressive cancer. This hip pinning procedure required special screws to be placed down and through my leg to hold things in the correct position. Today I am currently recovering from surgery at Guelph General Hospital and undergoing daily physio/rehab to get back on my feet again.

Just days before I was placed into surgery to correct the hip fracture, I had started the new clinical trial at the Juravinski Cancer Centre in Hamilton. At this point as I recover from the hip surgery at Guelph General, the clinical trial has been put on hold but we have been assured that it will continue upon my recovery which will hopefully be some time over the next week or so.

I admit it's been a huge disappointment having to now deal with this hip issue and once again landing in hospital.

I continue to be hopeful that once I recover from my surgery that I'll be back on the clinical trial which has given me high hopes based on the information that the lead study oncologist has provided to us and overall success that the trial has had in cases like mine. Let's once again examine how lucky I am: so far I am the only candidate out of 10 selected and approved for this particular new trial study in this region. Yes, one of 10!

There are still many reasons to remain positive and hopeful despite these recent setbacks. Over the next few weeks I expect to fully recover from the hip surgery, get my mobility back and begin walking (and maybe even running) normally again, and get back on track with the clinical trial to take on this cancer.

On another note, it looks like we are going to have to postpone the Manhattan's Music Event which was scheduled for next Sunday, March 25 from 1pm - 5pm at Manhattan's Guelph 951 Gordon Street. Thanks very much for your patience and understanding!

I will keep you all posted on the new music event date once I'm out of the hospital and recovered.

Anika and I with our new Taylor guitars

Clinical trial and renewed hope

It’s been a rough 6 weeks since I began chemotherapy round #2 in mid November. I’m not going to lie, it’s been a terrible experience filled with extreme fatigue, poor mobility, leg and back pain, and stomach issues. It’s been impossible to plan anything because one day I’m feeling OK, but then the next I’m back in bed again unable to function. I’ve cancelled quite a few events and meetings, even missed my kids' hockey games - the worst example being missing the Toronto Maple Leafs vs New York Islanders hockey game on January 31 at the Air Canada Centre which Shayne and I were supposed to attend. I got the tickets at a Bracelet of Hope event silent auction, and after the intense bidding battle with a tough competitor that went right down to the wire, was so happy to get these tickets. We really looked forward so much to the game. It was heartbreaking that we missed it but the way I look at it now, it ended up being a donation to a great cause (http://www.braceletofhope.ca/).

I just watched Tom Brady of the New England Patriots miss his "Hail Mary" pass in the last seconds of the Super Bowl, and hoping that my new "Hail Mary" in the form of this clinical trial at the Juravinski Cancer Centre will have better results.

I’ve had some great news and we’ve begun the process of having me participate in this fresh new prostate cancer clinical trial at the Juravinski Cancer Centre in Hamilton. I may have to do one more chemo session but I’m inclined to decline this final session and just wait for the clinical trial to begin, which would be a few weeks away. In any case, it now appears that both chemotherapy rounds have not helped as my PSA continues to go up. I still need to have some tests done and get a few things confirmed and genetic details matched up, but at this point, I am hoping that sometime in March/April I will start the clinical trial, which the oncologist who is running it is extremely optimistic about and believes will give me up to a 70% chance of good results based on what we know so far. For the clinical trial, the drugs are in the form of pills and do not have the typical negative side effects that chemotherapy has. So, to be in the position of getting into this trial that has minimal side effects and has a great chance of helping me is fantastic news for me and another clear example of how incredibly lucky I am. I still need to pass through a couple of hurdles for it to become reality, but keeping my fingers crossed.

On another happy note, we now have a date confirmed for the Manhattan’s Music Party on Sunday, March 25 at Manhattan’s Pizza, Bistro, and Music Club in Guelph at 951 Gordon Street. It's going to be an afternoon open-mic/jam type event something like 1:00pm - 5:00pm (to be confirmed) and drop-in type thing. You can get great food and drinks there and sign up if you want to get up and sing or play. Instruments will be provided.

I will keep you posted with news on the event on Facebook as well as here on this web page:

http://www.twoinsix.com/

IMPORTANT: Please make sure you check this above link before coming in case I have to cancel last-minute, which is a possibility based on my health and what I’ve experienced in the last few weeks.

I apologize to everyone whom I’ve had to cancel on in the last few weeks (it's a long list) but I promise that I will make it up to you in the coming weeks as I start to feel better.

Thanks for the food deliveries, kind messages, thoughts and prayers - as always, much appreciated!

So for now, mark your calendars and hope to see you all at Manhattan's on Sunday March 25!

Chemotherapy: Round #2

We were at the cottage last weekend with the kids and I was playing the song “Country Down” by Beck on my acoustic guitar which happens to be one of my favourite songs of all time. I tried singing as well, but sadly singing has actually been one of my weaknesses and fears - something I’ve always been encouraged to do but reluctantly tried over the years since I really can’t sing very well. The kids were there playing in the background, and my daughter Anika told me in her encouraging way that it sounded “good”, and that this was a “good song for me, Daddy”. She went on to say that I should “not be afraid”, "practice it", “be confident”, and “get good advice”. I was surprised and amazed at the words coming out of this seven-year-old. I was proud. She inspired me to practice this song and play and sing it live one day - maybe even with my kids accompanying!? I’ve been practicing it every day since . . .

I’m in the process of starting to arrange the "Manhattan’s Music Event" (in Guelph), everybody welcome (kids too) - it will likely be sometime in February or March so stay tuned friends it is finally happening. I finally took the first step the other day - yes !!

I'm looking to book the whole place as a private party for the entire Sunday afternoon and early evening, likely a 2pm - 6pm time slot. We will have all the instruments there including drums, percussion, guitars, bass, ukuleles, violins, amps, mics, so you don't have to bring anything. I'll have multiple monitors and an overhead projector for chords and lyrics based on my newly finished eSongbook which contains more than 200 popular songs and classics. It's be an informal jam / karaoke /open mic kind of feel with anyone welcome to sign up and play. It will be like a holiday party "drop by when you can" thing. You don't have to stay for the entire afternoon, and if you want to play, you don't have to be a superstar and trust me everyone in the audience will be positive and encouraging. Our kids' band will play. They have great food there, awesome pizza! I might just play and sing the song “Country Down” that day and finally get over this singing fear with Anika as my primary inspiration (and possibly backup on keyboards!). It's going to be a great afternoon of good friends and music! Stay tuned for more information to come!

A few weeks back I was accepted into a new clinical trial with a prostate cancer specialist at the Juravinski Cancer Centre in Hamilton, Ontario, but unfortunately that same day once again received bad news - blood test results in which my PSA levels (cancer indicator) had again doubled. It continued to spiral up. As a result, it was recommended that I begin the second round of chemotherapy immediately as there was no time to wait until I got processed into this clinical trial. I’m still eligible to be part of it in the future, and in fact, it does look like I could get back into it after a few of my chemo sessions once my PSA is stabilized again. Yesterday for the first time in a few weeks I received the great news that it finally stayed stable, so that's the plan. For now, it’s more chemotherapy but this time with a different chemo drug (Cabazitaxel) which they hope will stabilize and slow this cancer down. I've also found out that my cancer is genetically linked to a specific gene and abnormality, which is good news and bad. It's good to know, but there is the slight possibility that my children will carry these as well, so the good part is that we will encourage early testing once they become 18 years old.

It's also been a bit overwhelming to hear of the many cancer stories from my relatives in Croatia particularly on my mother's side and specifically recently my cousins. My dear cousin Milica is currently going through a tough time as well with her own cancer fight and we are all thinking and praying for you dear Milica! Be strong my dearest cousin, you are one of the most amazing persons I know and a "rock" for your family particularly now after the tragic deaths in just the last few months of your dear brother Miljenko and mother. We are fighting this thing together, OK!?!

"Biti jaka draga Milica" . . .

I’ve been told countless times how “aggressive” my cancer is, so it’s been quite the challenge so far to say the least to keep it under control. My toughest opponent yet.

Yesterday I had just completed Session #2 of Chemotherapy: Round #2. It sounds like I’m referring to a heavyweight boxing match doesn’t it? Actually, in terms of sports analogies, I see this round more as the equivalent of the American football “Hail Mary pass” in which the quarterback goes for the long seemingly impossible throw into the end zone into a sea of opponent defensive coverage - a wall of impossibility - while praying for the best! Despite that, I have full confidence in my medical team and my "Spirit in the Sky", and I still have a lot of hope that somehow, some way, that seemingly impossible pass is going to get through and I’m going to be around for a few more years.

I have to be. I need to be.

So far things are going fine. I was told that the chemo treatment that I am currently on is more tolerable than the last one with lesser side effects (which so far is true), and also, my medical team have given me more support and medication such as additional meds for nausea, blood pressure, and injections for the five days after chemo which helps me with the low white blood cell count (which I had serious issues with during chemo Round #1). All in all, I feel better this time around except for a few days last week (where I couldn't even get out of bed) - so things are going well as can be expected so far. My biggest issue right now is mobility likely related to the steroid meds. I’m no longer in extreme pain (not gonna lie - the newest morphine-based pain meds are great and work like a charm!), but just having trouble walking and getting up stairs - going at about 1/3 speed these days. It’s a bit annoying but worse things can happen and I’m dealing with it as best I can.

I've had some great support from the Canadian Government CCAC/LHIN program and have a nurse, physiotherapist, and social worker visit us to help out on a regular basis - all free of charge and covered - yes our medical system has it's good points. I'm doing exercises every day based on my physiotherapist’s recommendations, and Kat and I are also looking into the possibility of starting either Yoga or Tai Chi. I'm told this would be a good thing for me to try.

I continue to work on several mostly private projects including the two books (a memoir mainly for the kids, and work of fiction), and a short 30-minute personal family video (mostly visuals - something that could be played at, say, . . . someone's memorial service?) that spans seven decades in six 5-minute segments going back to my parents’ childhood. I'm in the process of starting my own podcast, inspired by the doc film and related podcast "Sick Boy" (http://sickboypodcast.com/) and an event I recently attended here in Guelph called the “Death Cafe” (https://www.facebook.com/events/1707979059496301/) in which people are encouraged and welcome to discuss things which our society seem to shy away from.

I started a new website that will host the new podcast and the idea is to create a monthly podcast, have a new guest each month that is somehow connected with our theme, and release it together with my blog post to family and friends only. I'm doing this to further help me deal with my situation and possibly help others. I'm not interested in going viral with either the podcast or books, but rather, this is meant to be private to family and friends that I share my blog with. I'd appreciate keeping both the blog and website for podcast and books private - thanks!

There is an amazing calm that has recently come over me which is hard to explain. It's my “Spirit in the Sky”. It seems that each time I get bad news and possibly feel like I may be even closer to the end of my life, I become more calm and confident. It’s quite an amazing phenomenon and a very spiritual thing for me. It's real. I’m feeling really good these days and very positive. The song “Spirit in the Sky” by Norman Greenbaum from way back in 1969 (featured in the first "Guardians of the Galaxy" film) has become somewhat of an anthem for me these days. I love that song. Right now it's my inspiration.

It’s going to be a really special Christmas this year - I can feel it. We are all looking forward to seeing and spending time with our amazing family and friends just as we did this past Thanksgiving.

Wishing all my family and friends a great Christmas and holiday season and I know that we will be seeing many of you real soon.

Looking forward to 2018 with hope and optimism, and can’t wait to have all my friends together for the "Manhattan’s Music Event" in February or March 2018!!!! I will keep everyone posted on all the exact details once I finalize them shortly. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my family and friends!!

Praying for dear Milica - be Strong!
One of the strongest and most amazing
women I know - it runs in the family!

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------

"When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
When I lay me down to die
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky"

"Spirit in the Sky"
Norman Greenbaum (1969)

The pros and cons of Plan B

One of my famous sayings is “always have a Plan B”. In fact, a little while back, my young daughter Anika quoted me and actually used the phrase.

A few years ago I entered a contest for a local documentary film festival which gave a prize to first-time filmmakers for a 10-minute short film. I created one about my fellow musicians that regularly play at this amazing weekly Sunday night open mic at the Supermarket Restaurant in Kensington Market, Toronto. I pocketed the $500 first prize for the documentary short contest, not bad!

During the individual participant interviews, one of the singers told me the story of how her father bought her a new condo a few years ago, but then she went on to sell it to finance her musical career. At the point that we met, she explained that the money was almost all spent on recording a professional CD and hiring top-notch musicians for performing local shows, so I was curious to ask her about what’s next. I asked her about her “Plan B” - just in case this music thing didn’t work out.

“There is no Plan B”, she confidently and defiantly replied. I was really surprised. I wanted to give her my opinion on it, but since I was the interviewer, decided not to bother. This was, after all, about her.

I suppose some people feel that if you are confident in trying to achieve a goal, if you admit that you have a “Plan B”, this might appear to diminish your efforts or even set you up for defeat or jinx it.

Last week I got more bad news. My PSA levels (the cancer indicator for prostate cancer) have spiked up now twice in a row. My back pain continues to get worse and in fact I’ve had pain shooting down the side of my thighs and down my leg to my feet. I’m getting a lot of numbness in my legs and feet. I fell down the other day crossing the street in Toronto, and my good buddy Brian literally picked me up off the ground in the middle of Yonge Street. I’ve had trouble walking over the past couple of weeks and my legs feel weak and like jelly (when Anika heard me mention this she came over and touched my leg) . As a result, my oncologist Dr. B has given me a new set of pain killers which work really well so the good news is that pain has been relieved for now.

I had another Bone Scan last week, and will get another Cat Scan done this Friday as they try to figure out what is going on and next steps.

Dr B has mentioned the possibility of more chemotherapy, but this time it could be even more intense and for a longer period of time. To be honest, I'm not sure I'm up for it. I need to do more research this time and try to nail them down on the expected benefits, and weigh that out against all the side effects. It appears at this point that the chemotherapy that I have just gone through and completed in August has not produced the desired results. They will be keeping a close eye on my PSA levels in the coming weeks.

I have an appointment next week in Hamilton at the Juravinski Cancer Centre for a consultation with a doctor performing a clinical trial that perhaps could help me. We will now will wait for all the results of my most recent scans and then hear the recommendations of my oncologists (Dr B in Guelph and Dr M at Grand River Regional Cancer Centre), as well as hope for perhaps participating in this new clinical trial in Hamilton.

Twelve months ago I was given eighteen months to live. This is reality, and based largely on the fact that this disease is extremely aggressive having made its way all the way up to behind my eye and along the way, spread extensively throughout my bones, spine and back. We were hoping that the ongoing hormone-based treatments along with the chemotherapy that I just completed this spring and summer would be able to hold off the cancer for longer. I was explicitly told that there is no cure for what I have. It is treatable but not curable. This is reality. As Dr M at the Grand River Regional Cancer Centre told me a few months ago, “the evidence is compelling”.

This is why I am currently working on my Plan B. I have to. I need to. It does not mean that I have given up hope. Anyone who knows me can vouch for that. I’m a fighter, not a quitter - but, I still need to work on my Plan B.

Plan B consists of speaking to my children about cancer, about my situation, admitting to them that right now things are not going well. They know that some people die of cancer. Some are lucky and live, but some die. Our good friends (same ages as both our kids) lost their father to brain cancer. They know that this can happen. It’s reality.

Plan B consists of planning things out at home, making sure everyone knows what to do in the areas that I was the expert, and of course managing and taking care of things financially for the future.

Having my Plan B is important, it’s essential. Working on my Plan B also allows me to really think about and appreciate the reality of my situation, which in turns has a positive effect. Having my Plan B does not equate to giving up or giving in. Each day that I think I may be closer to the end makes me appreciate that day even more. In some ways, it feels almost exponential. Every day, every minute, every breath, is a gift.

I happened to hear the song “The Drugs Don't Work” on the radio today by The Verve, from one of my favourite albums of all time “Urban Hymns” back in the late 1990's. A line in the song goes “Now the drugs don't work, they just make you worse”. As I’m about to turn in for the evening, I’m now listening to a great new band that I discovered over the past year called Folly and the Hunter, and one of my favourite songs called “Small Victories”. Here is a better line to leave with:

“How can I see what it all means to me
as I walk into the unknown?
All that I need are these Small Victories”

So many of you have prayed for me, thought about me, and told me me that without a doubt you know I will get better and beat this disease. I appreciate all your prayers, thoughts, kind words, and amazingly positive vibes that you are sending my way. I feel it every day. You’re all going to help me do this - one Small Victory at a time.

I have no doubt that after these past few weeks of bad news, that I am now due for some good news. Yes, it's going to happen, starting real soon. I will keep you all posted on my upcoming good news in the next few weeks!

In the meantime, enjoy LIFE my dear family and friends !!

Kat took this photo this morning at our local coffee shop, and sent it to me with the caption
"Breakfast with Ed". These are the drugs I need to take with food/breakfast.

 

A year like no other

A few weeks ago I happened to pass by a large mirror at the mall and caught a glimpse of myself as I walked by. For a brief instant, I actually didn’t recognize that reflection in the mirror. It appeared to be someone else - an older person, partially bald, grey, hunched over, moving very slowly and looking quite tired.

It’s been a year like no other. One year ago, on October 4, 2016, my eye became sore and by the end of the week, I was in surgery having a brain tumour removed. On October 23, 2016, my surgeon called us at home to inform us that it was in fact cancer. October 2016 is a month that I will never forget.

So much has happened in this last year, it’s quite overwhelming to think about. I’m not the same person I was both physically and emotionally. Physically, the cancer and drugs have done a number on my body. At one point I had lost 35 pounds and a full 3 inches of height. There are the physical side effects brought on by the hormone medications, as well as the back issues related to the spinal compression fracture.

My personality and emotions have also been deeply affected. Kathryn is likely the best witness to this, seeing this roller coaster ride day in and day out for more than a year now. I believe the drugs have had some sort of cumulative effect. I’m definitely not as easy going as I used to be, as was evident a few weeks back when I began screaming at a group of University students who were riding their bicycles on a busy sidewalk, with a bike lane only inches away on the road. This is something that I would usually just ignore and brush off.

I’m inspired by Michael J. Fox’s amazing book "Always Looking Up" about his battle with Parkinson’s disease, and one particular quote resonates:

“For everything this disease has taken, something of greater value has been given”.

I feel the same way today about my disease and what has happened to me. Yes there have been so many terrifying moments, shocking days, seemingly never-ending weeks of pain and discomfort, but amazingly, so much good has come out of this.

I wish I could describe to you how I feel at this particular moment. The pure joy of simply breathing and being alive is so exhilarating and euphoric, it’s something that I wish I was able to fully experience before I got sick. I wish it was something that everyone could experience every day regardless of your age or health situation. Also, the overwhelming sense of love and friendship that I've experienced through friends and family over the past year. These things are all positive "side effects" - gifts that must be fully appreciated.

This past weekend, we spent Thanksgiving with both sets of families: Kathryn’s family from Montreal came out to our cottage in Prince Edward County, and yesterday we were at my sister Sue’s house in Richmond Hill with her and husband entire Angelo’s family. Two huge family get-togethers and both were just amazing! We had so much fun this weekend, and it was the perfect way to give thanks for what we have, particularly since it was the one year anniversary of the “cancellation” of the 2016 Thanksgiving weekend as a result of my surgery.

Life is good!

My beautiful boy

Waiting for a miracle

Yesterday was an important day, it was the day that I met with my oncologist Dr. M at the Grand River Cancer Centre to go over my recent scans to determine what effect the chemotherapy sessions have had on my cancer, and also to discuss next steps. The recent scans were compared with the ones that were taken just after my diagnosis back in October and November of 2016 and analysed.

The good news is that the chemotherapy seemed to reduce my cancer somewhat and it appears that things are relatively stable right now. The bad news is that I did not receive the miracle I was hoping for, the one that Anita Moorjani (in her book "Dying to be Me") received when her cancer suddenly and unexpectedly went into remission, the one that Teresa Rhyne received (in her book "The Dog Lived and So Will I") when she beat her cancer, and the one that David Servan-Schreiber received (his book is "Anticancer"), a doctor and terminal cancer patient who beat the odds and has now been cancer free for almost 20 years. I think about all those lucky people who beat cancer and were featured in Kelly Turner’s book “Radical Remission”, and also those that did not, in the countless books and memoirs I have read over the past few months. I just re-read Gilda Radner’s memoir “It’s Always Something” and it made me sad.

In the meeting yesterday with my oncologist, we discussed the treatment options that are currently available, and those that might come into play once the current hormone treatments fail. We talked about a new drug that she may try, and also discussed what might happen over the next few months and years and what that may look like. Nothing I heard yesterday was a complete surprise, but I guess I was just hoping for that miracle.

The summer was good. We’re now into September and back to school and the regular routine. The kids are extremely excited to be back at school with their friends, and both are happy with their new teachers which is great. I’m still not feeling 100% although my last chemotherapy session was more than a month ago. Unfortunately my back pain has returned in what appears to be a re-occurrence of the spinal compression fracture issue that I had months ago. I’m back on the pain killers for now but hoping that this isn’t something that will persist as it did last time over many months. My hair is slowly growing back, and I’m especially looking forward to getting my nose hairs back so that I can stop this constant sniffling.

Up until last week, I was reading a most fascinating book called “The Emperor of all Maladies” by cancer physician and professor of medicine Siddhartha Mukherjee. It is essentially a “biography of cancer” (which is actually the book’s subtitle), a look at how cancer has been viewed, treated, and misunderstood over the years. At the same time, I also started reading “Being Mortal” by surgeon and author Atul Gawande whereby he confronts the realities of aging and dying in his patients and the limits of what he can do. Eleven months and dozens of cancer books and memoirs later, these seemed to be the perfect books for me to read at this time.

These books have changed the way I view cancer. They have also changed the way I view physicians and the way they interact with patients. In so many of the biographies and cancer memoirs I’ve read, the authors (patients) would list a myriad of complaints against physicians and hospital staff, beginning with objections to how the news that they have cancer was broken to them. I’m not saying that these complaints were not warranted, as I’m sure that many of them were, but I now look back at some of my own small complaints and feel that I think differently about them now.

How do you tell somebody that they have cancer? Is it possible to be completely compassionate and caring with each and every patient, every day, every year? As every individual is different, every doctor, cancer physician, and surgeon, is also different. This is what makes us human beings - unique individuals. Each has their own personality and special way of expressing themselves and dealing with issues. I don’t envy anyone that is assigned the task of breaking such news to a patient, and then communicating with them throughout their illness in such a way that they feel comfortable. Imagine how hard of a job a cancer physician or surgeon must have, each and every day full of life-changing decisions and high-stress situations. In addition to all of this, we expect them to play the role of psychologist and friend as well, which is a lot to ask. They are human, and I’m sure most do their best, but over the past few months my respect for them has continually increased. I feel lucky to have a great team of doctors/oncologists helping me through this, both at the Grand River Cancer Centre in Waterloo and here at Guelph General Hospital. I’m amazed at their professionalism and compassion.

As for the reading, I’ve had to put these most recent cancer books down for the moment as I feel I just need to take a break from it all. I think I might just take a break from a lot of things. Yesterday was a sobering reminder of my current reality. I feel sad and not particularly optimistic. I think about my kids all the time and the unfairness of the situation. I just may be all out of miracles. I’ve always tried to end my blog entries on a positive note, but today I’m not sure I can, and that’s just reality and the truth, so I think I’ll just leave it at that for now. Time to wipe my face dry, pick myself up off the floor again and get motivated.

Things will get better . . .

The end of chemotherapy

I've just completed my final of six chemotherapy treatments at Guelph General Hospital. Twelve months ago, in August of 2016, I developed severe chronic back pain which went on for several weeks. Ten months ago, I developed a sore left eye and days later, found myself waking up after surgery at Hamilton General Hospital to remove some "tissue". I left the hospital with a paper that showed "Brain Tumour" as the diagnosis - "what?!?!" - nobody mentioned that to me in the hospital, only the seemingly harmless words "tissue" and "likely benign" - not the words "Brain Tumour" nor "Cancer".

I've since gone through radiation treatments, hormonal therapy, and now finally the six chemotherapy sessions to treat what ended up being prostate cancer that travelled uninvited and unceremoniously up into my head while leaving and depositing more cancer inside my back and spine on the way.

Here is a photograph of the dozens of empty bottles totalling many hundreds of pills that have gone into my body in the ten months since October 2016, not to mention the bags of Docetaxel, the chemotherapy medication used to treat my cancer. As well, shown here are stacks of cancer-related books that I have read since this journey began. Oh yes, and on a positive note, that's my beautiful new guitar off to the right a Composite Acoustics "Acoustic Cargo" beauty! Music jam anyone?!

After chemotherapy number six, I'm just here resting at home and getting once again used to some of the uncomfortable side effects. The good news is that I've gone through this five previous times, so I'm a pro at this now.

It's been an interesting summer. Being on chemotherapy definitely slows you down. The hormonal medication that I continue to take, combined with the chemo really sucks the energy out of you so I continue to force myself to be active, walk every day, and just remain positive and hopeful. Spending time with my family is the best medicine for me right now. Kathryn has started her work leave of absence and is doing some great little projects at home, currently painting and re-arranging the kids' rooms. She is awesome!

In the first two weeks of July, we had an amazing annual summer family vacation. It's become our family tradition to spend Canada Day and the subsequent 2 weeks in a different part of our amazing county each year. In recent years, we've visited Toronto, Niagara Falls, Prince Edward Island, Alberta, British Columbia, and this year it was beautiful Nova Scotia.

This year was the annual vacation that almost never was . . .

I was very sick the day we were to fly to Halifax. The team at the Cancer Centre at Guelph General Hospital took me in the morning of our flight very quickly knowing time was of the essence. Our airport taxi was to arrive to pick us up at 2:30 pm so the team quickly got to work. They took my blood work and vitals, started pumping me full of fluids/antibiotics simultaneously to make it go quicker, and did everything in their power to get me out of there in time to get on that flight. They were very concerned. Dr. B, my incredible oncologist, was very worried and I know that she had hoped that I would go to my "Plan B", which was to let my family leave on that day and join them a few days later once I was feeling better. I was stubborn and determined to go and take my chances. My white blood cell count was low, I was very sick. In the end, Dr. B and her amazing and caring team saved our vacation - and I can't thank them enough. She even called me on my personal cell phone after I arrived in Halifax to see how I was doing. Truly remarkable woman, I love her! Again I ask, how lucky am I?

The first few days in Halifax were rough until I started feeling a bit better, but once we got to Peggy's Cove things were fine. We had an amazing time travelling through the amazing province of Nova Scotia, on to Lunenburg, Tatamagouche, and then gorgeous Cape Breton Island where we managed to hike a couple of breathtaking walking trails - spectacular! Here is a photograph of our family at the end of the Skyline Trail in the Cape Breton Highlands, one of their most popular and challenging hiking trails.

The month of July was rough. We lost our aunt and her son in separate tragic events in Croatia only 2 weeks apart. I considered my aunt like a second mother, and my cousin Miljenko like a true brother - one of the kindest and most amazing persons I have ever met in my life. I will never forget our visits to Croatia as kids and the joy we experienced with this family. Miljenko died at the age of 57 leaving behind his wife and five children. I can't stop thinking about those kids. I will never forget my aunt and cousin, they were incredible human beings. My own mother has had her own cancer scare, and last week had major surgery and is currently resting in hospital. Thankfully, the doctors are saying it was a success with excellent prognosis. My mom is an extremely tough 88-year old, she is a rock, one of the strongest women I know! We are all thinking of her and wishing her a speedy recovery. Life is so unpredictable.

So, what's next? Over the next few weeks I hope to recover from the core side effects of the chemo, and am expecting to feel better as the summer winds down. We are very much looking forward to our annual stay at the cottage for the last two weeks of August, and then back to school for the kids.

In terms of analysis and treatment, I have some appointments coming up for new CT and Bone scans, and the doctors will then compare them to the originals that were taken last fall. Once everything is analysed, my oncologist will determine the next steps. As mentioned before, the hormonal treatments only usually work for a limited time (like 2 or 3 years), and at that point a "Plan B" is put in place, whatever that may be.

It's the first week of August. Today is a great day. I feel happy and loved. I'm glad to be alive. I love my family, I cherish my friends. Life is great! I hope all of my great friends and family out there are enjoying this summer, and once I am feeling a bit better, look forward to seeing more of you real soon!!!