I am feeling fine, emotional, but basically fine. Janet goes to her Pilates club. I pack the car, run a couple of errands and pick her up. I pack my own lunch even though Heather is a great cook. But my diet is so restricted that Janet suggests we take leftovers for me

We go to the market. Murray who owns the organic store is so delighted to see me. Big handshake and a semi-hug. The new sign for the store is delivered. He insists we stay and take a look at it. He is so proud of it. We buy a bunch of stuff. The bag is too heavy for me to carry by myself. Janet and I each hold a handle. Suddenly, I am 80. We laugh about it. This is the new normal.

We leave town around 11:00. Traffic is light and we make great head way. The farm is not very far and we get there by 12:00 or 12:30. They have another guest, a woman named Beth. She and Janet know one another.  Beth says she is going to change her wig and might go swimming. Wig=chemotherapy=cancer. I remember that from my mother.

I go inside the house and talk with Neil. He wants to watch his rugby games. I have not watched in a long time and beg off the invitation to join him. He asks after my health and I tell him. He is disturbed by what he hears, but has a very clinical approach to listening. We go outside to join the others, and Janet is holding court and is obviously bringing all up to date. The first thing I hear when we get to the pool is Beth addressing me saying: “I hear you have your own set of health problems”. It is in the open and with a total stranger, at least to me.

A very interesting and enlightening conversation ensues. She has a lot of experience and advice having just gone through this. Live every day on that day. Keep positive. Surround yourself with support. Diet. Medical system. What to look for. Emotional stability. And on and on it went. Everyone is so supportive, one forgets how bad things could still be. We have to keep reminding ourselves, we still don’t know.

We leave around 3PM to head home. I feel good. No crash and no feeling of exhaustion. Janet wants to go straight home. I say we go for ice cream. We arrive at the ice cream store -Ed’s where else- by around 5. We have invited Sascha and Leigh to join us. He has been calling at least once a week to see how I am. She has not called. Not even once. I am very sore about that. Have not spoken with her in about 4 weeks. I can barely look at her. I tell her I am fine in response to her question to which she responds that she knows I am not and am just saying that. Not sure what I am supposed to say. Do I go into a litany of woes and concerns whenever someone asks? According to the new normal, I am fine. I am as fine as can be expected given the circumstances. Still alive, as Alex Miklos used to say.

We have our ice cream, by which time, we really have to go home. Tired. Need to rest. Not much happens for the rest of the evening. These pauses in life are spent trying to come to terms with what is happening. I do not have feelings of “why me?”. Such a wasted thought pattern. Instead, how do you deal with this. What strange conversations to have.

What is the new normal?

Now what? We are in a bit of a stupor. We start calling everyone to let them know what is going on. We do not want any surprises. It is not easy. A number of people are in shock and have trouble with what they are hearing. Everyone is very supportive. I talk with Fo’ad. Not much to say since it is all conjecture and no one is sure of anything. We have lunch with Morris. Dev and Ariela join us. I think it is important for Morris to see me. He is very disturbed by all this. Lunch is good and light. Then everyone goes their way and we make our way home.

We keep talking about the new normal. Life will never be the same, and that has to be accepted. But a new normal has to be achieved. We have to stay positive. I drive. Often Janet drives now. I am too tired and need to rest or cannot be trusted to drive.

The day is a blur. We read, talk. I drink water, lots of water. Have to cut down on tea and increase my water intake. Bummer. We rest, answer phone calls and messages. This part is getting tiring. Lucky Janet is bearing the brunt of it. I talk with a couple of people just so they can hear my voice and see that I am basically healthy.

We get a phone call from Heather Fraser inviting us to the farm over the weekend. How prophetic is that. They are well connected to the world of medicine. We never thought of calling them, and here they are calling us. We make plans to go to the farm the next day.

Another big day. This will tell all. Can’t have coffee or muffins or anything. Fuck! We show up at the hospital, but I have forgotten my paper work, Janet goes home to get it. I wait for the Technologist to show up and process us. There are very few people waiting. Turns out I do not need the papers. Everything is in the computer. I go in the room, dress in those ridiculous gowns and wait for the Ultrasound technician to show up. There is a lot of holding your breath going on. I can’t see the screen. Janet can from her perch in the far corner of the room. A bit Kafkaesque if you ask me. She can’t tell anything anyways. All very blurry. The technician goes and gets the radiologist. Very direct, almost brutal oriental lady. She has no time for niceness and starts asking questions again. Temperature, traveling schedule and a bunch more. I forget what they were. I let Janet handle her. It is finally over. Clean up and get dressed. Go to see Doctor Ruth.

We sit in the waiting room. Sandra, the receptionist is really nice. I have joked around with her a couple of times. She is very compassionate. There is obviously a problem and she is not going to add to them. We wait. Finally, we decide that she should call us wen the doctor wants to see us. We will go for a walk and maybe get a bite to eat.

We have breakfast and discuss the surreal quality of it all. Not knowing is the worst part of it. Two hours later we are back at the doctors office and she is ready see us. But first, she needs a bathroom break.

Things are getting more confusing.

• Inflamed bowel wall that could indicate a tumour of some sort
• Liver spots that could be tumours
• Lymph node leaning too close to the liver. Not showing any signs of anything but cannot be ruled out as the source of the spots
• Lesions in the lung

Add the growth to the list and you have… not sure. Not showing the symptoms of what it could or should be. The accumulation of events is concerning. Time for the experts. GI, Liver, and others. No reason to take anti-biotics anymore. The long weekend is coming and no one is responding. We go home to wait. The surrealness of the situation is overwhelming. Not sure what to think, how to react.

3:00PM. Phone rings. We have to go to emergency to get into the system before the long weekend so the processing can start. A necessary pain done willingly.

We arrive at The Toronto General Hospital emergency around 4:00PM. This is a far cry of St Micheal’s which we have frequented often visiting and assisting others. Clean and almost empty. No one wailing with bullet and knife wounds. We are taken in within the hour and shown a bed. The required temperatures and stats are compiled by the nurse. Her demeanour is quietly assuring and efficient. She also take 4 vials of blood. I ask her to leave me some. She smiles. It will take about an hour to get results in, so we can relax.

Another nurse comes in requesting a urine sample. Take your time she says. She has no idea how many times I have to pee. This is not an issue of when, but of how much. She offers to bring me a blanket since I appeared to be trying to sleep. I am off to pee in a bottle. Come back to find a blanket. I cover myself and try to sleep.

And then, we wait.

I cannot help but listen in on what is going on in the other three beds in the room. My curtains are closed. I wish I could somehow film this. A Dr. Ellis comes to see one of the other patients. He is very loud and overly sure of himself. Quick conversation, X-Ray ordered. He later comes back and tell the patient that they have not had a heart attack, and should go home to call their GP the next day. What they have is not an emergency. Over the course of the evening, this scene is repeated 3 times. His role is obviously to make sure emergency is saved for just that.

I get the visit from the go-home-and-don’t-bother-us-doctor. He comes across as being arrogant. Asks all the usual questions, appears to listen, but you somehow get the impression he is not, listens to my chest, and goes away saying he will help my GP who is obviously confused and could use their assistance. He comes back 20 minutes later to say the general surgeon is on his way. The power of reading charts comes through.

I am not sure what time it is, but at some point, Janet goes out to call a few people and bring them up to date. Including Leslie and Fetneh who has left messages on my phone. They will get in touch with others taking some pressure off us, or more to the point, off Janet.
We wait.

A very amiable young man comes in. Wait, the look, the accent, the name.. Yep, he is Persian, but cannot speak the language. After some pleasantries, we go through the usual questions: Nausea? Vomiting? Fever? Excessive exhaustion? You sure? He listens to my chest. Popular place my chest. The blood results are in. These are the third tests in 2 weeks to show that I am healthy. Everything is as it should be. And I look healthy. I can talk, and walk, almost at the same time. But the liver is suggesting differently. He goes off to talk to the Chief Surgeon.

We wait.

The amiable doctor comes back with the chief surgeon, an affable old geezer with.. no wait, it is a she, and she is young. Again the same questions. She at least, leaves my chest alone. But a lot of questions. She is not concerned with the growth in my sternum. Too hard, probably just bone. They are very interested in the history of cancer in the family, particularly mom’s dad who had stomach cancer. Obviously something is amiss. They go off to consult with her boss who is the Doctor we are trying to see in the first place, Dr. Gallinger.

They come back with names and a short plan. Very short. Next week is a colonoscopy, and the week after a clinic visit with Dr. Gallinger. Sometime, also, a chest CT Scan. And we can go home. I appear to be too healthy to be admitted.

I have not eaten since noon, and have not drunk anything since 3:00PM. I have a headache, and am exhausted. Add to that the stress of not knowing, of feeling that something is wrong and I am about to impose even more on my friends and family. A bit overwhelming.
We get home, eat something, and I go to bed.

Ruth, notice how this diary started with Doctor Heisey, then Doctor Ruth?  Well, we are now talking with Ruth. Ruth has been absolutely amazing through all of this. She gave us her eMail address, as well as her telephone numbers so we can reach her anytime. Janet has been in constant communication with her all night, and Ruth has been responding giving advice and reminders of things to say and request. She stayed with us all night to the bitter end at 11:00PM. I wish I could do more for her than just send flowers which I hate doing. She tells us to take a couple of days off and do something good for ourselves.

I am too confused to think tonight. I have to go to bed.

Go see clients. Trying very hard to make things appear normal. Everyone remarks on the amount of weight I have lost. Lisa tells me I should wear clothes that fit better so it won’t show as much. I tell Yama about where we stand. Then Jacquie remarks on my weight loss, and I have to tell her as well. She is amazingly positive and supportive. I do some work, then have lunch with Lisa. I order a bean and lettuce salad and tabbouleh. Size medium. Can eat only half of it. We laugh about it. We have to. This is the new normal, after all.

I go home and prepare mentally for the next day. I cannot eat or drink past midnight until the ultrasound is over.

Big day. Can’t sleep. Obviously tense. Go see Doctor Ruth at 12:30. Janet accompanies me. Doctor Ruth is a LOT more serious than I have ever seen her. Her smile is a bit terse and we get down to business. Dates and events gain a new importance. She is asking a lot of questions trying to get a handle on the timing of each development. There is a new level of urgency to her tone. No time for jokes. At least not yet.

She prods and probes everywhere. All kinds of questions. Diverticulitis does not appear on the agenda at all. A footnote to history. Very concerned about the liver spots. Questions about my temperature. When did I have a it? Has it come back? Any sign of it since then?

Temperature is a sign of liver cancer, as is nausea and vomiting. And also unintended weight loss. Remember this. There is a quiz coming up. No temperature, no nausea, no vomiting. Just upset stomach because of the anti-biotics, and still very moody and emotional.

She is not smiling at all. Pushes against the growth. Asks a couple of questions about it. I tell her that since God took a rib from us to make Eve, I have decided to grow mine back. She laughs, then tells me I do not have to make her laugh. This is getting more serious. Does the anal probe. No surprises.

We finally sit down to talk. She is very straight with us. There is a mixture of events taking place that should not be happening at the same time. I am showing signs of liver cancer but no symptoms. That is also, perversely not good. So an Ultrasound it is, where they will look at the liver and environs.

We have a long discussion about the C word. Not that one, the other C word. The first one is rude and people get pissed then get over it. The second one is scary and no one gets over it. Liver cancer is treatable, controllable. There is little to worry about. We just need to know its source. I tell her it is really hard to stay positive with all these drugs playing havoc with me. She is sympathetic, but I have to stay on until we know more.

I also complain about shortness of breath. Not sure if I am hyper ventilating, or if it is more serious. What the heck, blood work and a chest X-Ray coming up.

Janet takes the next week off work to be with me. Worried does not begin to describe her state of mind.

Nothing but confusion. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Wait for Tuesday. Relax. Can’t. Very emotional. Damn Anti-biotics. I would be emotional anyways, but this makes things so much worse. Have dinner with Judy and Arlin. Janet makes me promise to tell them. They are very supportive and concerned and all the stuff in between [...]

Doctor Ruth calls with the results of the CT Scan. It is not good. No mention of Diverticulitis anymore. Spots of the liver which should not be there. Do I have a temperature? No. Are you sure? I tell her about the growth in my sternum. She is calm. We make an appointment for July [...]

Drive Janet to Dorval airport, or Trudeau Airport as it is called now. We have a cup of coffee together. Trip was much shorter than expected. I leave around 11:30 to drive back to Toronto, this time taking the highway. The drive is uneventful. I am feeling fine, arriving home at 5:30 which is when [...]

All hell breaks loose. Ogilvy calls, and Janet is on the phone all day, both talking and mailing. She has to go to NY the next day for a week. Our vacation is cut short. We cry, pack and get ready for the hasty retreat from paradise. It rains all day, but the place is [...]

Janet is very excited. The stuff she is writing is coming together with great ease. A lot better than she had expected. She has invited Ignacio and Martin for dinner. Should be a fun evening. But it means we have to go shopping. Spend the morning at the market, and the afternoon cooking. Janet does [...]