Thursday, November 22, 2007


All five of us were at Station 3 today, so I wanted to get a photo of my crew to share with you. Left to right we are Captain Gaetan Marcil, Steve Vibert, myself, Claude Massicotte, Terry Hargrave.

So many offers of help, from nearly everyone--friends, family, acquaintances, even people who are almost complete strangers. One example of help sent: My friend Michelle wrote today and said the usual: "Anything I can do to help?" Then she answered her own question, and sent a joke. Here's the joke:

An elderly lady goes to the doctor and tells him, "Doctor, I don't know what the problem is, but I've been farting all the time. It's not really a problem socially because they don't make any noise and don't smell. I just can't stop farting all the time. In fact while I've been in here I must have farted at least 20 times."

The doctor nods and gives her some pills, "Here take these for two weeks and come see me again when you are done."

So she takes the pills and returns two weeks later as instructed. Infuriated, she confronts the doctor, "What kind of medicine is this? I'm still farting just as much! They still don't make any noise, but now they stink terribly!"

The doctor nodded and said, "It's all right, now that we have your sinuses cleared up, we'll work on your hearing!"

Anna and I both laughed out loud (she even snorted). You know it's a good joke when Anna snorts.

Today's Living with Cancer lesson: It's important to keep up with your normal activities, so Anna and I are still dancing (though not as much as we'd like to). Click HERE for a short little video from our last dance class.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It seems I am one of those strangers you mention - we have never met but I know your mother. We met Jean and Joe when they were visiting relatives in Victoria. Jean and I have corresponded ever since, sharing passions for family, family history and quilting. And now we share something else. I too am in a family travelling through the dark valley of cancer. I can relate so powerfully to so much of your experience. My contribution - Arthur Clough's poem:

Say not the Struggle Naught availeth

SAY not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke conceal'd,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!

Churchill quoted this poem in a speech just after America entered the war. The brightness to the west was the hope brought by America. Here, the brightness is the cure.

Your chemo nurse's decoration of your chemo drip bag - the firehose image - I related this to a friend who had undergone radiation. He saw himself playing a computer game like the old Space Invaders (you are probably too young to remember it!) with himself aiming the radiation at the bright red cancer cells, destroying them. He is seven years post-treatment, and healthy.

I have the GREATEST respect for your self-discipline with respect to exercise and diet. I have been able to maintain my exercise program (except for a couple of weeks after surgery) but diet is another matter. Food has always been my stress-reliever and it doesn't seem possible to find another one now!

Roberta Rivett