I am always seen to right away. The critical case that I am. The staff are generally very nice and attentive. They did blood work, blood cultures, chest X-Rays, stomach X-Rays and an EKG.

We were looked after by an amazing doctor, John Dean Jammal. A doctor and a human being. I am a very lucky man. He had read my chart. No questions were asked. He thought at first, that I may have a hernia in my stomach wall. He pushed and prodded which hurt me a lot. Then off to do all the tests.

The freakiest part of the afternoon was the nurse who came in to do the EKG. She had forgotten her glasses at home and was working anyways. The EKG is pretty simple stuff. Her next job was to take blood from an alternate source than the Port-a-Cath, in case the latter is part of the problem. She had to find a vein from which to draw blood. I had my eyes closed the whole time, because I was not feeling so well.  It only occurred to me afterwards, as she was extracting the needle that she had the procedure without her glasses. Yikes.

The results, when all was said and done are as follows. The lungs are as fine as they can be. The are cancer cells in there, but nothing else. Crystal clear. The doctor said if my lungs were the main issue, I would live for another 20 years. The liver on the other hand was a whole different ball game and the main cause of all the problems. The liver enzymes were out of whack with reality with some of the numbers tripling since the end of September. The liver was irritating the stomach and the lungs causing the shortness of breath and coughs that are plaguing my life right now.

I am also severely constipated and have been put on some commercial grade laxative. Big piece of poo just sitting there. I am also not drinking enough water. Drink more he says. The body will release whatever it does not need.

Like everyone else, he was terribly amused by our use of Tylenol 1 as pain medication. He suggested, and prescribed a drug called Dilauded. It is a variation of morphine more specifically Hydromophone. I am allowed to take 2mg of it twice a day. They gave me on the way out. I look at it as Percocet light. It pretty much dulls everything. A whole new lease on life. No pain. All organs dulled. The only side effect I have felt so far is drowsiness. I could sleep for days on it.  I am taking one pill a day to see me through the day. Works wonders.

The other side effect we are very concerned about is that I might become addicted to it. I might have to go cold turkey to wean me from it.

The doctor laughed at that possibility. For some reason, he thinks that is the least of my problems.

He also recommended we go on a trip. Just the two of us. He said if this is a case of lying around the house waiting to die, might as well lie around on a hot beach somewhere instead. We pack all the drugs we could possibly need, including something to take care of a chest infection in case it happens (not likely). We also have to be prepared to fly home if things turn sour. Purchase two one way tickets home.

The doctor does a lot of Medivac work and sees a lot of people who are very sick. He said, that looking at me walk and talk, the colour of my skin, and my general good health, I should have no problems going somewhere for a week. We are clearing the idea through Dr. Hedley this week.

We have moved our appointment with palliative to November 3. They are supposed to take over from Dr. Hedley. I will report more when I know more.

Finally, the big party is set for this Sunday at 3PM. Thank you to David Powell for generously providing his house for the occasion.

I cannot thank you all enough for all the support you have provided.

Our family and Fetneh stayed in a hotel, the Courtyard Marriott. It was a motel, very quiet once we changed rooms away from the exit doors. Silly idea to get rooms next to the exit doors. Fo’ad lent us one of his cars. Janet calls his yard the Dukes of Hazard for the number of cars that constantly populate it. We forgot to put gas in it before returning it. I am sure he will not invite us back as a result.

It was a very difficult weekend. The grand nieces showed us some of the gymnastic moves. They are so flexible. It should not be legal. Specially not showing it off that way. I lay on the couch mostly and watched. Truly a beautiful sight.

No one knew quite what to say or how to behave, specially the first day we were there. Khandan appeared to be the hardest hit of all. We spent quite a bit of time holding hands. Not saying anything. There is nothing to say. Just sitting holding hands. More than enough love in that action. Her husband, Scott kept disparaging himself. That is usually my job, he kept beating me to the punch. What a hoot. He is a very nice man, full of life and totally devoted to his kids.

My grand nieces and nephew are home schooled. Not through any sense of political or feelings that barriers need to be broken. Khandan felt that sending her children to a school system that was rated second last in the U.S. would probably do them an injustice. Khandan, herself has grown as a result of the experience. She was not really equipped to do home schooling and had to learn the ropes as she did things. Reminds me a bit of the philosophy behind the Warldorf Schools that Devin attended. Very organic. Her efforts have paid off in spades. Thigh I am not sure she wants to paid in spades.

We ate lots and lots of rice. Green rice and fish on the first night, kebab on the second, and jeweled rice on the third. We also had a turkey on the third day just to add a sense of balance to the meal. I ate very little. The appetite is healthy, the stomach, not so much. I have had two bouts now of severe stomach cramps and averted a third one the other night. Small plate of rice for me. I had yogurt with my rice, which is not usually a good thing when you are susceptible to cramps. But I could not help indulging. Imagine, yogurt being considered as an indulgent.

Everyone left on Monday. Copious tears all around. Specially me. It is strange and disturbing to have to say goodbye to everyone. The English do not have the equivalent of Adios or Adieu, which is too bad. Good Speed just does not have the same effect. So Adios it is. My brother is coming up for a visit, so his was a good bye.

The trip was pretty uneventful. We requested wheelchairs everywhere we could. The systems in the U.S. and Canada handle things differently. The one in the U.S. works a lot better where all special assistance is handled by the airport and not the airlines. They have a speciually trained crew that comes and looks after you. Very efficient.

We went to New York, you will recall in August and ran onto the same issues we ran into this time around. The Air Canada staff process your tickets then make you sit in the lobby while you wait for an agent to look after you. They always seem to have three people ahead of you so you have to wait in the grand lobby that is Terminal 1. Nothing to do but sit.  We asked for a time frame on our trip to New York as to when we would be taken in. There was no rush they said, lots of time. Same story this time. It occurred to me that they did mind us sitting there till we had to board the plane.

Lots of time? For whom? I suggested to them that I would rather spend the time in the Air Canada Lounge than in the great ballroom. Busted. There was no comeback.  An Agent appeared within minutes to look after the elderly lady sitting behind me. We have a chair. Are you alone? Yes says the lady. Well you will have to hire a porter to take your suitcase because I am not taking it, says the agent. I am not compensated in case of injury. But the suitcase has wheels. Nothing doing. Hire a porter or think of something else. The agent was quite rough and very rude. There was no room to bargain. There was also some question as to whether the porter could go through security, which meant she was on her own past that point. She decided to walk. Upset to say the least. Gives the words Special Assistance a whole new meaning.

Our turn next. Same agent. Same rudeness. Wrong target. She asked how I was. I am in a wheelchair, I said, how do you expect me to be. You don’t have to be rude about it she says. I lowered the foot supports before getting into the chair which sent her into a tail spin. I must not do that because I might trip over them. Oh my God! I exclaim. She decided that she will get another agent to look after me if I am going to use that uppity voice. Go, baby, go. get another agent. Could not possibly be worse than you. The second agent was truly wonderful. I regret not getting her name to send in a commendation.

No troubles in security. The U.S. customs agent did not even ask me about Iran. A first in 42 years of travels back and forth. No questions, no opening of bags to check the camera. Go on in, have a nice trip.

Janet and I spent a bit of time in the lounge. We ate and drank, then made our way to the gate to join Fetneh.

The trip back was the same. Uneventful. No questions, have a nice trip. See you later. Except for one incident. We were being cleared to go through security. They have a gate at which they check your passport and boarding pass so the security people do not have to do it. I got into a discussion about my imminent demise with the guy. A refrain I have heard often came up. People do not decide when they die, God does. I suggested that God has had his say and I am probably in line waiting my turn. Your are pessimistic, he said. You never know. I will pray for you through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Janet does not have any time for any of this stuff. I, on the other hand, relish every second of it. One of the tenets of Christianity is the belief that a goal of life is to die and attain the Kingdom of God. Yet faced with the possibility of my death, the man says I am being pessimistic. Surely the opposite is true, and he should be jealous of my good fortune.

We got off the plane where a chair was waiting, but without a cushion. Two shards of metal jabbing into my ass. The Air Canada Agent was unrepentant. This is the way they all are. I regret not letting her go and making her get me one with a cushion. We braved the soulless chair. Customs was a breeze.

Finally home.

I have come to the conclusion that Air Canada goes out of its way to hire Agents that are belligerent and rude. I can see them in the interview process. Oh, I am sorry, you appear to have a sense of humour. Here is the number for West Jet or Porter. You could never work for us. The ruder the agent, the less helpful, the better the interview process.

I am glad to be home. Unfortunately, this was the last trip we will take. I cannot risk being away from my hospital. Everyone was very kind and considerate as I lay on the couch and was waited on hand and foot by all. I do not like those circumstances, but there is little I can do about it.

More posts on their way.

Our family went on vacation in the Yukon in 1994 or 1995. We stayed with some friends in Dawson City, a small town made famous during the gold rush of the twenties. We flew to Vancouver, connecting to Whitehorse. We rented a van to complete the drive to Dawson City. We were warned about speeding. The fact that we should avoid it. Cops, we asked coming from the big city? No, they said, bears and moose. Hit one of those and you are pretty much done. Specially the moose. They have long legs and roll over the hood of the car straight into the windshield crushing all who happen to be in the way.

This is not to mention the occasional forest fire that might impede your drive. And the lack of gas stations. The closest one is located about where you will run our of gas if you drive at the regular speed. Drive any faster, and you will be out of gas sooner, where there are no gas stations. And there might be bears. Got it, do not speed.

We saw a stunning lake and decided to pull over on the shoulder to enjoy the scenery, maybe take a picture or two. Pulling over is very safe. Not like there is a lot of traffic. Pull over we did. There was this sudden sinking feeling. We were not depressed. The car started sinking into the permafrost. A lot like driving in sand, or more appropriate with our experience, snow. Being the quick thinkers we are, we decided against stopping to ponder the situation, and instead kept driving at the same speed pulling ourselves out of danger.

The ice that covers the north melts in the short summer creating the permafrost. About 18 inches of very soft something that covers the ice beneath. It is soft and mushy and heavy with mosquitoes who refused to bite us for some reason. We walked on a lot of this stuff and never got bit. Safe to walk on, dangerous to drive.

The rest of the drive was uneventful. No bears, no moose, in fact, no wildlife of any kind. Only thing we saw was acres and acres of burnt out forest. Turns out they had a forest fire a week before. People slept in their trucks waiting to continue their drive. Always have a blanket and candles handy, and food.The forest on both sides of the highway was black, charred, heavy with the smell of burned wood. One giant bar-b-que. We noticed clumps of trees that had survived the fire. Almost as if the fire had swirled around them sparing their lives. The future of the forest guaranteed in their staying alive. A clump of green surrounded by the black. Could not stop to take pictures.

We purchased a Canon video camera for the trip. This was before the amazing handycams you can buy today. Even before digital cameras. I loved taking movies, hated the editing process. All the movies are still on tape somewhere in this house. I will find them one day and transcribe them to the hard drive. Prepare to be bored.

My forte was making people talk about themselves, lowering their barriers. One of the first jobs I had in Canada was with an outfit called Household Finance, HFC. They gave loans to people who were unappreciated by the banks. Rates of interest equal to that of credit cards. There was no shortage of demand. Most of the branches were in disadvantaged areas. They fired me after two years. Turns out I was an excellent lender, terrible at collecting.

In my first week, I was told to see a customer who was waiting in the consulting room. He wants a loan. Fill out the forms. No problem. I came back to the manager with a half filled form. What about the rest of the information, he asks. Are you kidding me? Way too personal questions. I could never ask those, and why would they answer. The manager was a big burly man who had been with the company for twenty years. Trained a whole bunch of people just like me. Go back, he says, fill out the rest. I think he found the whole thing a bit amusing.

Back I went, screwed up my courage and started asking the questions required to fill out the rest of the form. Much to my surprise, the applicant was more than happy to answer the questions. Volunteered more information. Ask, and you shall receive, And receive I did. I discovered over the next couple of years, that if asked with the proper tone, people will reveal all sorts of information about themselves. The success f Facebook is a testament to this.

This observation has been confirmed many times over the years. Open the door with the right question, and wait for the deluge of information.

So it was on our trip to the Yukon. Ask the right question, and people will talk. The stone carver was more than happy to reveal his secrets. Fill the gaps with more questions, and more answers pour out. No one else appeared to enjoy these moments as much as Janet and I did. They were way too long. I hate editing. The tapes are buried in the basement somewhere.

I find myself now, not in the position of the inquisitor, but of the one being questioned. I am the one who has to decide how much information to divulge. How much information does the person want? How to dissect the question? The latter is very important. I have found over the years, that people rarely ask you questions they want answers to. It is the inferred question that is important. People would ask me question about computers. Why did the computer do this? I discovered by looking at the glaze in people’s eyes, that the question was not asked properly. What they wanted to know was, did they cause the computer to crash or misbehave. The answer eventually became, you did not cause this to happen, and you cannot prevent it from happening again. Here is what you can do to protect yourself from its consequences.

The same principles apply now. Different people have different tolerances to information. Diana wants to know and see everything. She was the first to ask to see the bag. Most people do not know how to ask to see the bag. She, on the other hand, said, can I see it? We were in the hospital at the time. She saw the bag, and the staples. Wow. The action on her part help me get accustomed to my situation. She was not repulsed, or did she faint. She touched the staples and the conversation continued.

We were at Heather’s farm the other week. Heather and family were there. It was an altogether very pleasant weekend. A lot of conversation flowed, philosophies expounded upon. All the worlds problems were solved. I talked a fair bit, mostly about myself. Given the relationship, the conversation would very often go in other directions. I was very grateful for that. I am off the hook. We are talking about other things that have nothing to do with my condition.

I remember at one point sitting there thinking, why are we not talking about me? I was conflicted. On the one hand grateful that we were not talking about me, on the other wondering why there was no interest in talking about me. It was interesting to notice how much I have become accustomed to talk about myself and my condition.

Kali and I get together for lunch about every two weeks. Much appreciated. We talk about me for a brief bit, then continue talking about all sorts of other things. I have known Kali for the better part of fifteen year. We both feel that we have grown a lot closer since we have been having these lunches. All that talk has to lead to something.

Catherine has been home this summer. She has back problems. Collapsed or slipped discs. She comes over once in a while. More to the point, we pick her up. She comes to our house and lies on the couch. We talk a lot. We went swimming the other day. It is very amusing to have the two of us with our fair share of physical ailments conferring with one another. The conversation is easy. We both get tired easily, both need to lie down regularly, both laugh at ourselves a lot. There are a lot of similarities.

Fetneh will not leave me alone. We talk every couple of days. Thank God for Skype. We do not seem to run out of subject in spite of the frequency of our conversations. I always look forward to the call. I always answer the phone if I can. Doesn’t matter what condition I am in. I can always call her back when I am in better shape.

Conversations are what connects us to one another. What us able to live together, put up with the most bizarre idiosyncrasies. Conversations frustrate us. Some think quicker than others. Some like me, need a couple of days to assimilate information and come up with clear thoughts. Others like Janet, want to jump in and talk right away and get tot he bottom of things. She has never gotten used to my need for a couple of days to put my thoughts together.

Conversation. Keep them coming. Even if you are not talking about me. Though I would have to question you severely in those cases.

The other side is the amazing support of friends and relatives. The good side.

We spent last weekend visiting friends and taking full advantage of their hospitality. Saturday was spent on the shores of Lake Simcoe. Janet’s cousin Deena, rents a cottage on Lake Simcoe every year. We spend a day visiting. Her brother Bryan and family come up as well, as does Eva. All good making for a small family get together. I had a good chat with David Margolese whose company I always enjoy.

We spent Sunday and Monday at the Fraser farm taking full advantage of the company and space. The Frasers were all there, including the delectable and always charming Ceilidh.

Heather Fraser is doing some very interesting work in all kinds of places. We talked (again) about the work of one of her friends. A Dr. Robert Buckman. He, the Doctor, theorizes that we are better off treating cancer by slow doses of Chemo instead of the current methods of bombarding the body with a huge dose of the drugs. The theory is that the cancer cells start dying when bombarded, but soon retreat, in effect removing the threat. The magic happens once we stop treating the body to the cancer drugs. At this point the cancer cells return in full force attacking the body with renewed viguour.

The slow treatment allows the body to be treated with low doses of the Chemo drugs, in effect fooling the cancer cells into thinking nothing is happening, that they are not under attack. This treatment lulls the cancer cells allowing for a more prolonged attack. The current trials have been done on breast cancer patients. The treatments are called DalCM-P. Goolge it, or read this article. I have an appointment with Dr. Buckman this coming Thursday.

I have started my Chemo vacation in a very slow mode. I have been away from my computer for a few days, which is very unusual for me. I have a lot of projects on the go, but find myself in some sort of a limbo state. Still trying to come to terms with all the unsaid words about why we are on vacation. I am eternally positive in my outlook, yet cannot help but wonder about the future.

People insist on telling me that they could die early when they get hit by a bus. I finally found a link that talks about the possibilities of ending your life with said method. As my friend Stone remarked, it is not a competition. If people insist on getting hit by a bus, they are more than welcome to go before me.

I am also receiving information about alternative treatments. More specifically, two people have written me with information on Y-90, an isotope based treatment directed at liver cancer. It is also used for treating metastasized cancer that are now affecting the liver. Items for discussion with Dr. Buckman.

I have not been interested with the type of cancer that is afflicting me until now. The rare occasion when the question has come up has resulted in me answering with something to the effect that I have the type of cancer that eventually kills you. A lot of the remedies I am reading on the web refer to very specific types of cancer that are affected by the treatments. It might be beneficial for me to know what type of cancer I do have to make sense of the articles I am reading.

The amount of information is mind blowing and very confusing. Following the idea that each body is different and reacts differently to everything adds to the confusion. There are cases of people who have been removed from treatments that have survived. People given 6 months who have lived for a lot longer. The comments of people who have tried certain remedies and are waxing poetic about it can also be misleading. Are they genuine? What was their affliction? None of it is corroborated with statements from reputable hospitals or clinics or doctors. We will believe anything that we think will cure us, however absurd it may sound.

How to differentiate between the absurd and the items that make more sense. Does the guy who claims that eating hot peppers on bread with garlic for two weeks make sense? A pepper based diet will rid you of cancer in two weeks he says. That diet will also be rid of me in less time. He just might be right though. Do I throw caution to the wind and attempt his remedy? The temptation is there, going against all common sense.

The next few weeks will see me working on a few projects. I will attempt to make my camera bag. Finish at least one of the two web sites I am working on. Maybe render my new kitchen to paper, as well as the new design for the back yard. All these things take time and concentration. I ams till sleeping in the afternoons. For longer periods than before the vacation. These get in the way of the projects. Do as the body tells.

Time to see the psychologist.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for your thoughts, support, and prayers.

Take a couple of months off to reassess the situation.

Ponder the meaning of life.

Start working on all my projects.

Keep away from the routine of the hospital.

Janet was talking the other day about this situation. You start on this adventure in a bit of a daze. You ask a bunch of questions. According to Janet I was asking my fair share of questions. Except that I was repeating my questions. I was getting answers and repeating the same questions. As I said, in a bit of a daze.

You acquiesce to the advice given by the doctors. Specially if you like them. They seem to know what they are doing. Dr. Heldey has a huge collection of articles to his credit. Surely, he knows a lot of stuff about colon cancer and its metastasized state. He is very reassuring. All we can do is follow his advice.

There is a lot of talk of alternatives to the traditional medicines. There are no proofs, just a lot of information. It is very hard to sift through all the information. We have discovered that you tend to make sense of the information as time goes by, as the need arises to make sense of things. So much of the information is anecdotal. We have no idea if people are responding to the medication, the alternative choices, or not.

I have always maintained that I will not live just for the sake of living. I will not go through a regime that seems to be more work than it is worth. What price is life worth living for? All this work and you live an extra two years. Is it worth it? Probably to the people around you, but not for the person going through the chronic condition. At least not to this one. I keep reading about people going through all sorts of programs to live longer. Why the compulsion to live at any cost?

The health network has looked after me for the past year. Diagnosis, operation, Chemo. Everyone looking after the chronic. With a smile, a laugh and a hug. You, the chronic are being looked after by all these people. The chronic is not doing anything, while things are done to him. We are a bit powerless. Go to the hospital, give blood, get Chemo. Make sure you have taken your drugs before the Chemo. Go home, sleep, rest, make the best of the situation.

We have to move now from having things done to us to deciding what we need to do for ourselves. We have to follow through with some of the stuff we have been reading about. Make sense of all the messages we are getting. Again, sift through everything and make decisions.

I find the situation very confusing. Again not sure if that is the right word. I have a lot of projects to work through, a lot of time to figure things out.

We are slowly realizing that a lot of decisions are ours to make. If we want to quit the Chemo Session, than quit it is. We are in charge of our treatments. The doctors are there to guide and advise us. The ultimate decision is ours. This is a bit freaky. We are never sure if we are making the right decisions or not. Do we have the right amount of information to make a decision? Is it the right decision? To make matters worse, the doctors themselves are not sure either.

Every body reacts differently to the drugs. We were at a small party celebrating Kali’s birthday the other day. One of the friends has a brother with very advanced lung cancer. The gave him one Chemo session to which he reacted very badly. All the stuff they keep expecting me to go through. So sorry to disappoint. They removed his brother from any further Chemo treatments. So are you still on Chemo, he asks me. Yes. How long have you been on Chemo. Almost a year now, since last October. He was dumbfounded. I do not look or behave like a Chemo patient. Except for the afternoon naps. We are all different.

My blood work showed more positive results than last time. My liver enzymes are closer to where they should be with one indicative being totally in the normal range.

Dr. Hedley brought up the fact that we have not had a break since this thing started. I started feeling the pains in June 2009. By August 1, the diagnosis was fairly complete and certain. Operation on September 2, Chemo in October. Yikes. A year without a break. The doctor saw no reason why we should not stop the treatments right now and take our vacation. A CT-Scan was planned for Friday (today) to set a baseline for the future. Next CT-Scan in two months. Chemo would only start again if my situation deteriorates. A steady condition will result in a longer vacation.

A two month Chemo Vacation is on the books. Cannot believe it. I am in a bit of a daze. Basically what happens when you receive bad news or terrifically good news. You cannot believe your ears and shut down. Two months with no Chemo.

Janet and I stared at each other. What do you say? How do you react?

Doctor Hedley wanted to feel my stomach to make sure all was right. I suggested that things were still a bit tender. I can lift heavier bags now, but feel some discomfort if I overdo things. I am sure the healing process will speed up without the Chemo getting in the way. He appeared to confirm this. Good news. I am looking into going to the pool on a regular basis to strengthen the stomach a bit. I get bored swimming. Back and forth, you go. I will have to do it nevertheless.

Can we start eating raw meats again? I miss my steak tartar, sushi, and oysters. I was given the green light for sushi. Say it ain’t so. We decided on the spot that we would have that for dinner to celebrate. Diana, Nancy and her daughter Lily are coming over. Makes for a grand celebration.

Dr Hedley mentioned that we are in really good hands with his nurse, Shahnaz. We truly are. She is magnificent. She mentioned how much the nurses in the Chemo daycare like me. I walk in with my big laugh and cheer them up. The doctor just shook his head. All the nurses love him he says. Then gives me a gigantic hug before leaving.

Janet and I were left alone for a few minutes in the consulting room. She high fived me. This is the first time in almost a year were I could a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She seemed ecstatic over the news. She had a bright smile and a glitter to her eyes. That was enough to make me happy.

I phoned Fetneh and Fo’ad that night. It is always good to talk to them after news like this. It helps air my thoughts, clear the cobwebs a bit, get some perspective. I eMailed them of course, but that was not clear enough for them. Fetneh was jumping for joy. She made me promise to not withdraw from life because of this. The are chances of withdrawal symptoms creeping in if you are not careful. The hospital has been a home away from home, as it were. A very safe place to spend time in. You get sort of attached to these things. The routine. However horrible the Chemo experience is, you get used to the routine. The people. The support.

I assure her that I will not regress. I will keep the blog going. I may have a bit of trouble adjusting to the new freedom. We will see.

Fo’ad was just as supportive, of course. How does this change life? I don’t know. My curly head of hair may even make a comeback. I see no negatives in any of this. I become so much stronger when I am off Chemo for even a week. This can only be good.

We have lots of plans. We have been invited to all sorts of places. Long trips are out of the question. One day excursions within the vicinity of Toronto can be done. We are going to see Anne and Frank in Pickering, John and Sharon have invited us to their horse farm, Heather and Neil want us to go their farm. Heather reminded me that it is almost a year to the day when we went to their farm to share the news. Their friend Beth was there, also a cancer patient. She had a long conversation with me about what to expect. Strange to think of that now.

Devin is leaving us to go pursue a master degree in Change Management at the New School in New York City. We should be flying down on August 21. Sadness and happiness combined. I am ever so proud of him.

September will see me visit Montreal again to spend some time with Hong Lan. Janet will be attending the film festival in Toronto. My visit to Montreal will take some pressure off her. I have to talk to Hong Lan a bit more about what her remedies are. Stuff that includes acupuncture to increase energy levels. She deluged with so much information that I had trouble absorbing it all. A revisit is a must. To say nothing of spending time with Fetneh, of course. I will try and stay in the same apartment as before, taking advantage of Steve Mykolyn’s generosity. It is good to have a space of your own, specially when you are in my condition.

I lay down when we got home. All this stuff is a bit overwhelming. We had dinner and I returned to bed and made my phone calls.

Yesterday was my very first day of this vacation. I slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon. I also wandered around the house a bit lost. I have so many things to do, so many projects on the go. Where to start? Sleep of course. I am having lunch with Kali today. Looking forward to that. Planning the trip to New York when I get home from that.

Tomorrow is a new day. Taking us back to another sense of normalcy. Can’t wait.

Fetneh organised a lunch with a bunch of friends. I mentioned this before. We rented the Quartier Perse owned and operated by Mahin and her husband Siamack. They are friends of ours. Mahin barred Fetneh from making any decisions regarding the food.

We flew Porter from the Toronto island. What a Godsend that is. 15 minutes cab ride from our house is a small airport catering to short hauls. In this case Montreal. The Porter staff are very friendly and look after really well. We landed in Montreal and arrived at our apartment (courtesy Steve Mykolyn) at 3PM. This is more of a corporate apartment. Very sparse with the minimum amount of perks. Except for the abundance of magazines like Dwell, one of my all time favourites.

Fetneh joined us and I went to bed soon after she arrived.

This was very confusing. The flight was short and not tiring at all. Yet here I was exhausted and yearning fro a lie down. Janet and Fetneh went out for hamburgers which they brought back with them I was not hungry. Kept sleeping, waking up occasionally to the sound of the ladies enjoying their delectable dinner. Interrupted sleep is not an issue. My sleep is constantly interrupted by concerns of the colostomy bag coming off. I wake up regularly to check and make sure all is well. Waking up to the sound of people enjoying a meal is a whole other matter.

I was tired again on Friday. We went shopping int the morning. Had a cup of coffee and lousy apple turnover at this small coffee shop. Janet wanted to go to Simmons. Not sure why they do not open a store in Toronto. They would make a killing. Maybe Toronto is not fashionable enough for them.

I got tired very quickly. The nature of my fatigue appears to be changing. I cannot describe it very well. I seem to have energy until the batteries run out. I collapse and sleep off the fatigue only to start the process over again. Not much fun, and difficult to predict when the batteries are about to run out. I should talk with the Energizer people about this. I wanted to show Janet some stuff. No energy. I went down to the food court and sat down to see if that would help. It didn’t. I was not sure is If was noxious, or just tired. Was it fatigue or more than that. What more could there be. Janet wanted details which I could not supply. Working through the feelings.

I walked back to our apartment. Walking is often good for working things through the system. They would make us walk in the hospital. We had to walk three or four times a day. That was almost the first question the nurse would ask you. They made me walk a couple of days after surgery. I am not sure why walking has the effect it does. I often find myself burping a lot as the gases make their way out of your system. The stomach sometimes comes alive, which is a good thing. Walking is good. the walk back to the apartment was not long, just long enough. I slept until Janet came back. Still stayed in bed to rest for the evening.

We had dinner on Friday night with a few of our friends. Some of them would not be able to make it on Sunday afternoon. They wanted to see me, make sure I was OK. Don’t trust my entries in the blog. They want to hear it from me, see my face, make sure I am not lying. These are old time friends, since we first came to Canada some 42 years ago. We had a great time. Went to Chez Gauthier which has seen better days. The food was terrible, service went along with the food quality. No sense in rocking the boat. We were served an hour late. My brother went to see if he could speed things up to no avail. I went up to our waiter and told him flat out that I had cancer and needed to eat right away. Past my lack of food tolerance. Play the cards you have. They served our food within ten minutes, though I doubt it had to do with anything I said.

The company made up for the lack of quality elsewhere.

We spent Saturday having lunch with Ignacio at the very wonderful Hotel Saint Sulpice in Old Montreal Highly recommended. Good food and great service. I had a lobster club sandwich. Did not know club sandwiches came with lobster. On the other hand, why should they not? I have a soft spot for club sandwiches. Toasted brown bread, lots of mayonnaise, and more of it on the side. Mouth watering.

Fo’ad came by the apartment for a visit while I rested. Janet went, you guessed it, shopping. I rested and talked with my brother and eventually went to sleep. We had dinner at martin’s house. Great company and wonderful food made for a great evening. My main regret in all these things is that I have to leave early. Seems like I am cutting things short.

Brunch on Sunday at Fetneh’s apartment. Lunch at Mahin’s.

Fetneh tells me 56 people showed up, a lot of whom I do not know. A bit ironic that a lunch thrown in my honour attracted a bunch of people I do not know, who did not introduce themselves to me. It did not bother me any. Interesting to see all those friends and relatives. Interesting to see so many children. The next generation.

Mahin is an amazing cook. The food, all Persian was astounding. White rice, green rice, rice with fava beens, sour cherry rice (my mothers favourite). All of it complemented by kebab. Mouth watering, melt in your mouth, delicious Iranian kebab. I ate lots. No repercussions.

I sat outside and let people find me. I spent a lot of time talking with Barb Puky and her husband. Nushin and Mehran graced me with their time. Funny thing about friends of long standing. You do not need to get to know each other. You pick up where you left off. No conversation is taboo. We have gone through too much in our history to let small things get in the way.

Barb Puky has been friends with us since University. She was in the same dorm as Janet.

Nushin is related our family through one of my great uncles. My grandfather had two wives. The second after the first passed away. Nushin in related to us through this first marriage.

Mehran’s parents were friends with my parents. That is going back a long ways. Makes for easy conversations and a very relaxed afternoon.

The end of the afternoon was more emotional than the beginning. I had expected it to be the other way around. I was caught off guard. I did not cry when I met everyone. I did cry when we left. Everyone in Montreal has been very supportive. I cannot thank them enough.

Fetneh works for a lady called Hong Lan. The best description I have of her is that she is a Traditional Chinese Medicine Naturopath. Hong Lan asked to meet with me to discuss my situation. She appears impressed with the progress we have made and would like to contribute. I cannot tell you what we talked about. The conversation went on for over two hours including a deep breathing exercise. I was and still am overwhelmed by the amount of information she parted with. I will be back in Montreal in September for a second conversation.

I think that is all for now.

Got dressed, went out for a walk. The staff at the hotel are so nice. Not just a question of opening and closing doors. Very pleasant and helpful. There is a coffee shop across the street, small joint, thought I would give them a try. I had a coffee at the hotel the previous day while waiting for Janet to get back from her facial. It was really bad. The doorman recommended the shop across the street, except they were closed. I walked around a couple of blocks. Nothing was open. New York was asleep.

There are few things better in this world than a city waking up. I think that should be a subject for a bunch of pictures. Staff at restaurants prepare for the new day by cleaning the sidewalk in front of their stores. They not only sweep, but wash their sidewalks in preparation for the crowds. I remember people doing this in Iran, except they did it in the evenings in order to cool things down, as well as to wash things.

I took a few pictures, not a lot, and one of them may show up next Friday or something. I have to look at it a few more times before deciding. A bit of exhaustion, a bit of nothing really worthwhile in our neighbourhood. There are a lot of restaurants, stores everywhere, buildings that could use a lot of work, spaces for rent. The city is still vibrant and alive. Not as alive as it used to be, but alive.

I got back to the hotel at 8 in time for the coffee. Nothing was open before 8. Imagine that. On a Friday no less. I would have believed that for a weekend, not a weekday. Ordered a double espresso and banana cake. Both were good. Ate them outside the coffee shop. They had a table and two chairs set up. The slope in the sidewalk meant that you felt like you were falling off all the time. Ordered a coffee for Janet and went back to the hotel around 8:30. Janet was still asleep. She did not like her coffee much.

We finally left the hotel around 10 to start our adventure. Hunted down a place to have breakfast. Service is New York is spotty at best. Most places are good, a few are great and a lot are pretty mediocre. The staff barely talk to you. They had to wake up early to serve you. What more do you want? The staff members who actually deliver the food are different from the waiters who take the orders. The serving guy served out breakfast to the wrong table. I don;t know about you, but if I had ordered eggs over easy with bacon, and received an omelet instead, I would be just a tad suspicious of the food. Not this guy. Dove in and started eating. The waitress later apologized for the mix up and did not charge him for the meal.

Wait just a minute here. Serve me his dish and don’t charge me either. How come he does get charged for eating my breakfast? I had to wait a while longer for mine to be served. No fair.

I went to the local AT&T shop to see if I could get a pay as you go SIM card for my iPhone. No such thing. Anyway, the salesman says, the pay as you go is not worth it for the iPhone. You use up the amounts almost instantly because of the amount of traffic that the phone generates. What about other pay as you go options? He winces. You have to buy the phone. The plan is minimal. $4.00 for 200 text messages. That is really all I wanted the phone for anyways. A phone with a regular keyboard is $80. You kidding me? For pay as you go? Not worth it. Not for the remaining 2.5 days. Amazing how bereft one feels without a phone.

Don’t go all Crackberry on me. My first cell phone was a motorolla flip phone. a huge unit that looked like it was made for the military. Janet made me get it when I was taking a trip to Sault Ste. Marie on a training gig. Must have been about 15 years ago. I wanted one just to keep in touch with Janet through text messages. She is shopping, I am walking around. You get the idea.

Janet decides to shop in this Japanese store called Uniqlo. I looked for a place to sit down. All the benches within site of the changing rooms were taken. I sat on the stairs. This young girl comes up to me and says I am not allowed to sit on the stairs. I tell her I am not feeling well. She says I can go up the stairs or look for the other benches. I explain that the benches are occupied, and I cannot go up the stairs. She has no sympathy. There is an elevator and there are other benches. The stairs are very wide. I am not in anyone’s way. I express my disappointment in her attitude and leave the store. There are no benches in NY, but there are sprinkler systems you can sit on. I did, and waited for Janet to finish her shopping.

I came across this service called Hello Rewind. They will take your old T-Shirt and turn into a computer sleeve for $49.00. Proceeds of the sale got toward stopping the sex trade. You can read all about it at the link above. The idea is that you make the purchase online. They send you a small box into which you place your t-shirt. Six weeks later you have you own genuine unique computer sleeve. Only one small flaw in the ointment,as it were. Does not work in Canada. You can make the purchase. They cannot send you the box. You have to send in your t-shirt. I figured we would drop in on them since we were going to be there anyways.

Their offices were about 10 blocks away from the hotel located in one of those nondescript areas that permeate so many cities. The office was locate in a newly renovated building. The security consisted of this young lady working on a computer at a round table located in a very cramped lobby. She called the office, and they let us up. The elevator was very claustrophobic. Janet felt a little queasy by the time we got the sixth floor.

What a fantastic layout. There was a row of offices separated by glass panels. Looked a lot like a cow stable where the animals are herded into their spaces in a neat row. The offices looked like they were between 60 and 80 square feet. Enough for two people to work in. Our contact was in the last office. The spaces were all filled and the place was humming with work and energy. Everybody was young and either hard at work or chatting with their neighbours. Our contact was quite happy with the space. Large enough to work in when you are there. A lot of other your entrepreneurs meant a lot of connections for more business. He was involved int he marketing of Hello Rewind. Janet and I fell in love with the concept. Not sure I could work for very long in those cramped quarters, a great concept nevertheless.

I was a bit knackered and took a power nap before lunch.

We met with Steve Landsberg for lunch in an Italian joint. Very friendly, great food, though I could not eat much. My stomach has been very active, due I think, in part to the type of foods I have ingesting. a lot of greens, meats, ghetti, and so on. Time to give it a rest of sorts. Complicated in a city which serves such large helpings. Steve was great. Commented on how good I look.

More walk, more sleep, more shopping for Janet. Felt so bad for. Obligated to do all that shopping. Went out for dinner with some more friends.

The fantabulous Sarah Kosteki, Dex and his wonderful wife Amelia. I had heard rumours of Amelia before. We have had several meals with Dex in Toronto. She was always absent on one pretext or another. We began to doubt her very existence. All those stories, sure, if you insist. The reservation was for 6:00PM. She was not there. Finally showed up at 7:00. OK, she is real, and charming at that, nothing less expected from anyone who would marry Dex. The conversation was fluid, the company charming, the food great. You look great was the first thing Dex and Sarah said.

People, get used to it. I look great for someone with the big C etched on his forehead. Really. My hair is thin but growing back. You would never know there was anything wrong with me if you met me on the street.

Meal done, made our way back to the hotel for 10:00PM. I went to sleep almost instantly leaving Janet to struggle with the TV.

Ok, I will tell you more.

We flew Porter from the Toronto Island Airport. Landed in the Newark International Airport. Took a taxi into town.

We have a letter from Dr. Kennedy that stipulates that I am infirm and require a wheelchair to get around. I also have a pair of scissors in my medical bag which is needed. The folks at the Island airport let me through with the scissors. No fuss. We passed on the wheelchair. It is a small airport. Janet’s amazing assistant, the famous and fabulous Marina booked the trip. She made sure that my infirm state was noted in bold letters in the Porter file. No confusion there. The Porter staff were very attentive, both on the ground and in the flight. We were fast tracked through every possible gate. Preboarded when the call went out. What fun.

Newark is another story altogether. Huge place. There was a wheelchair waiting for us. That was one of the weirdest experiences of my life. Quite demoralizing. On one hand you appreciate the fast tracking through customs and all the lines. On the other hand you feel very inadequate. The wheelchair was a bonus. It saved me a lot of walking. I will not hesitate in the future in taking advantage of it. It is still weird.

The cab ride into NY was interesting to say the least. The ride itself was uneventful. The view out of the taxi window was amazing. So much heavy industry. So much dirt and filth and pollution in New Jersey. It made New York look like the most wonderful place on earth. Quite a feat that.

We checked into the hotel. As usual, the room was not ready. We went for a walk and to get a bite to eat. So many places to eat. So many choices. Makes it difficult to decide. We finally settle on a place with open widows and doors. The weather is spectacular. Table for two. Order our food. Talk, Watch the people walking outside, longing for a table by the window. We let our waiter know that we covet one of the two tables. The people appear to be finishing, and we will move there as soon as possible.

There is a lady sitting by herself two tables over. Way too much foundation and rouge. I thought that look was out of fashion eons ago. Yet here she is, looking pasty white. Almost clownish. She is high strung. Nervous and fidgety. She finishes brushing her teeth and applies her red lipstick. Stops long enough to let the waiter know that the french fries that came with her meal were inedible. can she get a discount? The waiter comes back. She gets a $2.00 discount, and here is the bill. She fidgets and fusses. Gets her money out. Looks at the bill. Appears to do some calculations. Closes the billfold, puts her money away, collects her belongings and leaves. At no time did she smile.

I remember thinking what a business this is. You have to trust your patrons to put money in the billfold before leaving. Something made me wonder if she left any money since she appeared to put away all the money she had pulled out. She had left $2.00 in the billfold. The waiter ran out to chase her down. She had disappeared.

Welcome to New York.

We came to New York without an agenda. A few friends wanted to have lunch or dinner with us. That was about the only agenda that was set up beforehand. The whole idea was to wander and experience the city. Go back to the hotel when I got tired. Janet could go shopping and do whatever. Thursday was out day. We had dinner by ourselves. Spent the afternoon wandering getting to know the streets. We stayed at a hotel called 60 Thompson Street. Part of a chain of Thompson Hotels. This one happened to be located at its namesake. So much imagination at play here.

The hotel was nice enough. Queen size bed in a room not much bigger. A lovely HD TV, except all the channels were analog with a third of them unwatchable. The remote barely worked. You had to lift up your arm, point in the right direction and hold whatever button down. Spin three time, pray to the God of remotes, burn an effigy. They replaced the batteries in the remote to no avail.

My cell phone is on a Canada only plan. The hotel wanted to charge us $10 for 24 hours of WiFi service. What a ridiculous thing to do. I have a letter going out to someone at the Thompson Group complaining about that. You tend to spend very little time in your hotel. Making this one of the more expensive perks. They should make it $10 for 24 hours of service, as in a cumulative amount, as opposed to a 24 hour day. Janet’s Blackberry was spotty until she went to an At&T store where they jiggled and wiggled until the unit started working. What a to-do.

Went to bed early in anticipation of the next day.

It turns out that I have a lot of options.

I went for my Chemo session last Tuesday. That is Tuesday the 11th of May. My blood count was. The admin staff were helpful. Quite a change from the previous week. More on that in a separate post coming today. The nurse let me know that this was my 14th session. I am a walking talking Chemo boy. The drugs came, and I was topped up. Got the Neulasta shot on Thursday. I slept for a week. My energy levels returned yesterday. I am all excited about New York where I will be tomorrow at this time. Things are good.

We were at the Fraser’s farm a couple of weekends ago. I designed a couple of new camera bags. I have to render them, sew up a couple of examples. Yes, I can sew. Learned from my mother. Then attempt to find a manufacturer, put together a business and marketing plan. The usual routine. The market is short of good practical camera bags.

I have also decided to start designing web pages for small business. Nothing fancy, no flash or anything complicated. Simple four to five pages of static stuff. I will also offer to maintain the site, update the software, make sure it is running, do the marketing for it and so on. I have revamped my photo site at farokh.ca. I will be creating a template of sorts in the next week or so. Then start calling or sending eMails out to some prospects that I already know might find this useful. I can do this from home, and be totally online, and at my own pace.

My friend Steve Mykolyn suggested the other day, that I start writing camera and related equipment reviews. I have thought about that. I am coming up with a template for that as well. I will probably focus on the every day user who is pondering buying a point and shoot camera, or an upgrade. None of the professional stuff. Professional, or semi-pros such as myself are pretty well versed. There are sites that pander to us. No one seems to be looking after the casual user in a meaningful and fun way.

We are re-doing our garden this year. Thinking of building a new pond, a shed, plant some new local plants. We hired a gardener to help out. I do not have the sustained energy to carry out the changes.

Busy? Just a bit. It occurred to me the other day that I am trying to find myself – again. I have no idea which of these projects will come to fruition. Maybe they all will. Maybe only one of them. It is becoming an interesting exercise. I am concentrating on the web design first. Once the template is set up and the eMails are sent, there is little left to do, except maybe a bit of marketing. Might even be fun.

I was told at the beginning of this adventure that I have some time to live, anywhere from tomorrow to five to ten years. Or more. Or whatever. I told Fetneh the other day, that I have to modify the numbers a bit. I had my operation about 9 months ago. I now have between four and nine years to live. I can be so funny. Five to ten sounds like so much more time. I could go one for the next five to ten telling people I have between five and ten. No one would be the wiser.

You go through life expecting to die of ripe old age. No one really expects to die sooner. No one is out there saying things like, Oh yeah, I expect to be fall out of a building by the time I am fifty. Cancer hits. The doctors do not like to give you a time frame when you would expect to die. Bad vibes there. The problem that appeared this week in my ever so feeble brain is that you now expect to die earlier, but when exactly? Not that you knew before. Expectations are now set for an early passing on. But when? This is getting stupid.

I went to the hospital yesterday, home away from home. It is amazing how quickly you adjust to your new surroundings. I went to spend a bit of time with a friend who was doing blood work and meeting with the palliative care people. She does not have much time left. She gave her blood to the vampires, and we went for lunch. Her husband was there. He keeps calling me the other man. The goal is to just talk, laugh, eat. We are going out for Ethiopian food when we come back from N.Y. I am going to cook Persian rice for her one evening. We do what we have to do.

I also ran into my lady with no nose. The cancer has spread a bit. She is due for more surgery on her cheekbones. We talked a bit. She was on the verge of tears. Don’t know what to say.

I look amazing. Everyone is saying that, so it must be true. My hair is growing, albeit (great word that!) slowly. I have apparently developed immunity to hair loss. Which is a good thing. I just read today that losing the hair in your ears results in losing your hearing. I am saved, I tell you, saved.

I am seeing my psychiatrist in June. A good talk is to be had. So much stuff to discuss. So many thoughts, so much stupidity, confusion. It will all pan out.

Thanks for listening. Thanks for being there.