Saturday, September 22, 2007

Light the Night

I received a call from my daughter Chaya yesterday asking me to look over her fundraiser letter which she then forwarded by email. I forwarded Chaya’s “Light the Night” fundraiser letter to all on my email list. Here is the text:

Hello,

On October 13th I will be walking 5 k in the Vancouver Light the Night fundraiser. This is a very special event to me as the goal of Light the Night is to raise money for better treatment, support and awareness of people living with blood cancer.

Last year on October 13th I finished my 8 months of treatment for Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a type of blood cancer, and the day after my last treatment I was able to do this same 5 k walk. This year feels very momentous as it signifies the one year mark of my health and new life.

My team's name is Chaya's Angels and our team goal is to raise $5000 for this event.

Please visit the link below to sponsor my team for this worthy cause. Any donation made over $10 will automatically be sent a tax receipt.

Thanks for your support,
Chaya


http://www.active.com/donate/ltnvan/2103_ckatrenskyLTN

Since both of us along with my oldest son have been diagnosed with this type of cancer, it was a no-brainer to do more than check the text. I clicked on the link to make my donation.

To my surprise, everything worked like clockwork. Usually when I try these things there is some sort of hang up or delays in the system and I can’t complete the form or I get an error message.

So that’s a good sign and I am rooting for my daughter’s team to make their quota.

Go Chaya’s Angels!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

A Typical Tuesday

Today was a typical Tuesday...slated for chores.

I woke late and decided that before I started my chores, I would go for a haircut. It seemed to be the perfect morning, rainy and cool. My intuition was right on as I was the only customer in the store and so didn't have to wait.

I was served by a new gal, one who didn't seem to know what to do, even after I explained it to her. So I talked her through it and came away mostly unscathed. She kept running the clippers into my ears, until I quipped, "Are my ears getting in the way?" That seemed to focus her, although the end result left a lot to be desired.

After this I went for a blood pressure test at the drug store and sure enough it was up again...haircut stress-related no doubt.

I went home to finish my chores, make some coffee, do laundry, check email. The usual. I planned a mid-afternoon movie at the Paramount, but by the time I got there I realized that I had better not sit through a thriller, but walk off some of my stress.

My stress is not unrelated to the decision I made last week.

I stopped taking my blood pressure meds, as they don't seem to be agreeing with me. I braced myself for the dizziness, the headache, and the upset stomach I was sure would follow. It did, along with about a 15 point jump in the BP levels but I promised to give myself a week to see what would happen. Astra Zeneca labs haven't kept me alive most of my life, and I didn't expect to keel over once I stopped.

The end result is that my BP is about 12-15 points higher than it was on the meds...but even on meds it never came down to normal.

So I walked over to the food court in the Pacific Mall and ordered a fresh apple/carrot/beet juice zinger with a jolt of ginger. I walked with that through the downtown core to Caper's to restock my walnut supply, which along with banana and orange juice is my usual breakfast menu.

Once home I was quite tired and so lay down for a nap. While I napped the temperature dropped and it poured rain.

I woke about 6 p.m. and decided to go out shopping for a bite to eat. I have been making loud noises at work lately to some of my team mates about craving a hot Montreal-style corned beef on rye sandwich, the kind that I used to be able to get in Winnipeg.

I passed a small European deli and did a u-turn a few paces past it as the words Montreal-Style settled into my conscious mind. There it was...a chance to relive my dream and satisfy my hunger.

I walked in and ordered, but to my dismay they told me there was no rye bread, and asked if I would settle for multigrain. I said no thanks, as this was not my vision of a Montreal style sandwich, but the owner said "No problem," and pointed to a fresh loaf of rye that was marked for sale and they cut that to prepare my sandwich.

I immediately realized this was not going to be a dream realized, as they kept asking me how to prepare it. Did I want lettuce, cucumber, tomato...did I want the meat hot or cold? They didn't even include a pickle.

This was like my haircut revisited, and I had to talk them through it. The end result as with the haircut was far from perfect, but it was a passable sandwich, and because I felt guilty that they had to cut a fresh loaf for me, I bought the rest of the loaf to take home.

It was a worthy purchase, as I found when I passed a young woman standing on Davie with the cardboard sign...no food, no money...no job.

The expression of delight on her face when I handed her the loaf was palpable and made up for any shortfalls in my day.

"Good food", she exclaimed in a tone of voice that said everything that needed to be said.

I then headed down to the rainwashed seawall, to watch the vestiges of golden sunset and misty clouds over the rippling waters of the Bay, breathing in the cool, fresh air.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The Spirit of Peter Pan

This came to me this morning, when thinking about the James Barrie quote on Nika’s birthday card:

Wishing is like fishing,
you have to be prepared
and go down to where the fish are biting
.

A little folksy wisdom which I may or may not inscribe in her card!

I didn’t need any folksy wisdom as a child to fall under the spell of Peter Pan and Tinker Bell. To this day I am still under the spell of the story as it unfolded on the big screen that summer night in Winnipeg before the eyes of an 8 year old boy on the occasion of his birthday.

My mother had roused me shortly after I went to bed to tell me that her friend a few streets away was taking her son Bruce to see the film as a birthday present and that we were going to join them. I don’t remember the journey downtown, but we would have had to take the streetcar, as that was the route along the Henderson Highway from East Kildonan in the early 50’s. If I have my facts right, it would have been the summer of 1954.

I can’t remember any other occasion where I was taken by either parent to a movie, although mom took me one summer to see a gala outdoor production of The King and I at Rainbow Stage.

We didn’t have television in those days, and I don’t remember ever having seen a movie before. If I did, the impact was nothing compared to the impact this had on me. The whole experience was like waking up in a Technicolor dream and staying awake afterwards.

The impish spirit of Peter entered into my child’s body and I became him. In the days to follow I mimicked his sword play with Hook using a wooden stick, leapt from the bed and from the garden fence rail intent on levitating and flying around.

I had fallen in love with Tinker Bell and I was determined never to grow up and grow old.

The spirit of Peter still lives strong in me and as I look back over my life, I see now he did succeed in teaching me how to fly.

I could never have imagined such an adventure!