Cultural surprises

Sheila has been with us for over two weeks already but she continues to be amazed by something new almost every day. In her eyes, my kitchen is a magical place. Most of the small appliances and gadgets that we take for granted are brand new to her. Like most Chinese kitchens, the one in her parents’ home doesn’t have an oven let alone a toaster, a bread maker or a food processor. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head the first time she saw me using my electric knife!

It’s not only the appliances that surprise her, however. Most of our food is also new to her. Though she’s familiar with a lot of the ingredients, we cook them entirely differently and even I’ve been surprised at how many convenience foods I use. We tend to eat a healthy diet avoiding a lot of processed foods but I do depend on things like pancake mix that are completely foreign to her. Breakfast cereal is also something she’s never eaten before. So far, Harvest Crunch, a sweetened granola with coconut and almonds, is her favourite. She’s accustomed to a spicier diet than ours and the ketchup bottle has become her best friend. In fact, she’s dubbed herself a “ketchupholic”!

The rest of the house contained many surprises for her too. Not unexpectedly, even though I’d explained the bathroom to her the evening she arrived, it took a flooded floor to remind her that the shower curtain must be inside the tub when you take a shower! That’s a common blunder for Asians when they first arrive on our shores as an Asian bathroom is basically an oversized shower stall and bathtubs are not common in China.

Laundry brought more surprises. Though we had a fitted sheet on our bed in China, Sheila had never seen one until we stripped the beds to wash the sheets! She thought I must have sewn the elastic corners myself. (In case you were wondering, fitted sheets were actually invented by an African American lady named Bertha Berman in the 1950s.) The clothes dryer also fascinates her as clothing is hung to dry in China.

That brings me to a topic that has been a big surprise to Richard and I. When we lived in China, we were amazed to see people in the street wearing their pyjamas. What we didn’t realize until Sheila came to stay is that Chinese people wear their pyjamas whenever they’re at home! Sheila only dresses to go out and immediately changes back into pyjamas when she gets home. Of course, if you’re just stepping out to run a quick errand, why bother changing at all? Sheila has been out with me more than once now in her pjs and I finally understand why we saw people walking down Little Street dressed that way!

While we continue to learn much about Chinese life from Sheila, it’s definitely been fun looking at our own lives through the eyes of someone for whom almost everything is brand new!

Magnificent mountains

We came to Calgary after church yesterday to spend a couple of days with our daughter and her family but the main purpose of our trip was to take Sheila to see the Rocky Mountains. It was snowing when we woke up this morning and a cold wind was blowing. The recently updated road reports indicated that the highway to the west was in good condition, however, and though the weather forecast called for scattered flurries, it also mentioned sunny breaks.

We left the city in near blizzard conditions wondering if we’d see anything at all but an hour later, there they were; a wall of rugged mountains standing against a band of blue sky! We drove out of the storm and into a spectacular day. Bright sunshine glistened off the snow covered peaks and the snow flurries never materialized.

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Our first stop was Banff where we browsed several souvenir stores and enjoyed lunch in a quaint little restaurant just off the main street.

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After stopping just outside town to enjoy views of the mostly frozen Bow River, we continued north toward Lake Louise.

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In spite of the colder temperature at Lake Louise’s higher elevation, we walked down the the lakefront to enjoy the view. Though partially hidden by cloud, it was still magical.

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We were back in Calgary in time for supper thankful for a wonderful day and for the opportunity to share one of our country’s most beautiful areas with a very delighted Sheila.

The spirit of Christmas

“A very Merry GIFTMAS!” proclaims the latest Canadian Tire advertising flier. Really? Is that what this season is all about?

Sadly, for too many people Christmas has become little more than a commercial frenzy and a time of ever increasing stress. We mouth the words to traditional carols announcing peace on earth, goodwill to men as we rush from store to store and bills pile up. Perhaps young families feel it the most. Mounting costs and time constraints make it difficult for them to find any peace and joy during this season.

My daughter’s latest Facebook status and her sister-in-law’s response say it so clearly.

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Over the years, we’ve tried to focus on the reason for the season and keep our Christmas preparations simple but obviously we need to look for ways to make it even less stressful; less about the gifts and the preparations and more about the CHRIST of Christmas.

Sharing our Christmas preparations with Sheila this year is making me more conscious of the things we do simply because we’ve always done them that way. There’s nothing wrong with traditions. In fact, they often make life easier. Planning Christmas dinner is simplified by the fact that we prepare basically the same meal year after year, but if those traditions become a source of stress and anxiety, perhaps they need to change.

I haven’t done a lot of decorating yet but, as always, the first thing to come out was the beautiful olive wood nativity set that my parents sent us from the Holy Land the year they spent Christmas there. As we put out each piece, Sheila, who had absolutely no idea why we celebrate Christmas, and I read the accounts of Jesus’ birth from Luke 2 and the visit of the magi from Matthew 2.

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But then, out came Santa Claus and I had to try to explain his role in the story.

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For that, I used another favourite ornament, my kneeling Santa. Perhaps he best symbolizes what I’m trying to say today; we need to find a way to ensure that the spirit of GIFTMAS bows before the true spirit of CHRISTMAS!

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The job that never ends!

We loved our jobs in China! By far the most fun was the time we spent with the students who were preparing to come to North America to study but this is definitely the first time we’ve brought a student home with us!

Three of my former students are now in Ontario enrolled in ESL programs at their colleges of choice and preparing to enter regular studies there in January. Since they arrived in Canada, I’ve spent lots of time communicating with them via email, Facebook and Skype, consoling and encouraging the one who is having a very difficult time adjusting, cheering on the other two, answering questions and helping them find information on everything from yoga classes to how to make healthy bagged lunches!

Sheila is my fourth student to arrive in Canada and she’s presently sound asleep in our guest bedroom! We picked her up at the Edmonton airport last night after her long flight from China and she’ll be with us for just over five weeks. On January 2, she’ll fly to Windsor, Ontario to begin her studies at St. Clair College.

We encouraged all of our students to spend their first month or two in Canada in a home stay setting to help them adjust to Canadian life and to allow them to practice their English in a home where they would be immersed in the language. Sadly, both girls who chose that option found themselves in homes that didn’t meet our expectations; homes where they were left to fend for themselves and not incorporated into a family atmosphere. They probably would have done just as well or better living in a dorm. That’s not the sort of experience we want to give Sheila!

I’ve waited to start decorating the house and doing my Christmas baking until Sheila’s arrival so that she can join in all the fun. After all, this will be her very first Christmas! The whole family is coming home this year so she’ll experience all the noise and fun of a family celebration.

In the meantime, there are lots of other things we want to show her; simple things like a typical Canadian grocery store and things we take for granted such as how to use the myriad of small appliances on my kitchen counter. There are places we want to take her like West Edmonton Mall and sights we want her to see like the spectacular Rocky Mountains. We’ve also arranged for her to be able to visit our local high school to see and experience how different it is from schools in China.

Before we embark on a whirlwind of activity, however, we’d better let her sleep awhile longer and give her a chance to start getting over her jet lag!

with Sheila in China

with Sheila in China

Beauty after the storm

I’m in a somewhat better frame of mind than I was when I wrote my last post. There are a couple of reasons for that. First, I read this in my devotions earlier in the week.

“When faced with challenging trials we have two options: to cower and travel down the unproductive road of fear or to walk forward, believing that our risen King is fully in control of our lives.”          Kirsten Rose

It brought me up short and reminded me that while I can’t necessarily choose my circumstances, I can choose how I react to them. We all have a limited amount of time on this earth and I can choose to waste whatever time I have trembling in fear or I can be thankful that I’m feeling well and get on with living. It may not always be easy but it’s obviously the better choice.

Secondly, I had a chat with Karey, the nurse at the Cross who is the “go to” person for neuroendocrine cancer patients when we have questions or concerns. She explained that Sandostatin, the drug that I receive monthly injections of, is a “cold” or non-radioactive form of Octreotide while Lutetium, the new treatment that we’re awaiting government approval for, is radioactive Octreotide. I was under the impression that Sandostatin was only meant to control my symptoms but she assured me that it also has an effect on the tumours themselves and that though my facial tumour isn’t receptive to the mIBG that I received recently, the Sandostatin should be helping keep it under control. I may have been told that before, but there’s been so much to learn, so much information to absorb, that it obviously didn’t sink in. This time, it was reassuring.

Today was already the tenth day since my mIBG treatment. Only four more days of avoiding close contact with other people to protect them from my radioactivity! The time has passed quickly and it hasn’t been as difficult as I imagined it might be though not being able to even hug my hubby has been tough. The past three days have been particularly quiet as I sent him off to Calgary to spend a few days at our daughter’s. I had several projects around the house and a couple of good library books to keep me busy.

Yesterday, a winter storm covered most of our province with a heavy blanket of snow and very few people ventured out but this morning we woke to blue sky and glorious sunshine. Since I couldn’t go to church, I bundled up and took my camera out to capture the beauty that the storm left behind.

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A friend loaded up his snow blower and brought it across town to clear my driveway before going to church himself! When I looked out and saw him, I felt the arms of God wrapped around me!

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Riding the roller coaster

I saw my tumours yesterday. I drove myself to Edmonton for a post therapy scan and a follow up consultation with one of the doctors. He showed me the results of the scan and there they were, lit up on the screen like mini suns; one in my colon, two on my liver and a little one in a lymph node in the middle of my abdomen. That was the good news. It meant that the mIBG that I was given on Friday had, in fact, adhered to the tumours and was beginning to do battle with them.

Unfortunately, there was also bad news. A CT scan of my head and neck, done prior to my treatment on Friday, shows that I also have a growth in the left side of my face. They were unsure about that one after the initial diagnostic tests. Unfortunately, it did not light up on yesterday’s scan which means that, unlike my other growths, it’s not receptive to mIBG and it isn’t presently being treated.

It does appear to be receptive to Lutetium, however, but that’s a newer radioisotope treatment that isn’t presently being funded by the government. The Cross is in the process of setting up a clinical trial that will give them funding for Lutetium but it takes time to wade through the red tape involved in that. It should be available for use early in the new year but it would have been so much better if my facial tumour had been receptive to both medications. That would have given us more in the arsenal to fight with. Apparently, due to it’s location, it isn’t a good candidate for surgical removal either.

I’ve heard it said that having cancer is like riding a roller coaster and now I understand. I had crawled to the top of a hill and was feeling great; then came the sudden drop!

Perhaps today is a good day to remind myself of the things that cancer cannot do.

What Cancer Cannot Do

Cancer is so limited…

It cannot cripple
LOVE

It cannot shatter
HOPE

It cannot corrode
FAITH

It cannot destroy
PEACE

It cannot kill
FRIENDSHIP

It cannot suppress
MEMORIES

It cannot silence
COURAGE

It cannot invade the
SOUL

It cannot steal
ETERNAL LIFE

It cannot conquer
THE SPIRIT

Author Unknown

Remembrance

Imagine looking out the window of the family farmhouse at Seba Beach, Alberta and seeing the military vehicle pull into the yard. Pearl’s heart must have pounded as the men in uniform came up the walk with a telegram in hand. It was 1944 and three of her sons were in the midst of battle in Europe. Which one was it? Had she lost one of them?

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Glen was my father-in-law. He enrolled in the army in October of 1943 and was deployed in early January of the following year. He was just 18 years old.

We don’t know a lot about his wartime experiences. Like many who saw the gruesome face of war firsthand, he didn’t talk much about what he went through over there. We’ve only been able to piece together bits and pieces from the few things he did say and more recently, from his military record which our son requested from the Canadian Archives in Ottawa. We do know that he once spent several days in a foxhole behind enemy lines waiting to be rescued and we know that he probably suffered from what is now known as post traumatic stress disorder. According to Mother, for the rest of his life he would occasionally wake up cowering on the floor beside the bed. He was back in that foxhole terrified that, at any moment, an enemy soldier would find him and his life would be over.

Father had been in Europe for only nine months when he was seriously wounded and unable to return to action. A second telegram dated October 19, 1944 brought the incorrect news that the nature of his injury was “bomb fragment wounds to face and head.” A letter dated November 27, 1944 contained more accurate information.

“I am directed to inform you that official information has now been received from Canadian Military Headquarters Overseas advising that when your son, M-8247 Pte. Glen Marion DeBock, was wounded in action on the 6th October 1944, he suffered a bullet wound to the right orbit into the sphenoid sinus resulting in the loss of the right eye.”

He was lucky to be alive. Imagine taking a bullet to the head and surviving! He spent the remainder of 1944 in hospitals in the UK followed by another three months in Shaughnessy Hospital in Vancouver before finally being discharged with a prosthetic eye.  Life would never be the same for this young farm boy, however. He often suffered excruciating headaches and like many of his compatriots, he took to drowning his vivid memories in alcohol. It wasn’t until the final years of his life that he gave up drinking and found peace in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

On November 11, as we pause to remember, we give thanks for so many young boys who went off to war with high ideals and ended up paying for our freedoms with their lives; many making the ultimate sacrifice and others, like Father, surviving with shattered dreams and broken bodies. In reality, these are the men who gave us freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and all the other freedoms that we take for granted in this great land.

Let us never glorify war but let us remember those who were willing to go and fight on our behalf and those who continue to do so.

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Behind the lead wall

For those of you who might be wondering about my time behind the lead wall, my room looked much like any other hospital room.IMG_3270

My Victoria’s Quilt added colour to the otherwise bland decor and a great library book, And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns, kept me occupied.

It wasn’t just like any other hospital room though. There’s the yellow line on the floor that I wasn’t allowed to cross, the shield that the nursing staff stood behind when they entered the room and the teeny tiny window out into the hallway.

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Fortunately, the wall on the other side of the room was a bank of windows looking out over the busy street or I might have gone completely nuts. It was through those windows that I spotted my crazy and wonderful girlfriends after dark on Friday evening as they waved and danced a cancan in the parking lot for my benefit! They were in the city for our annual Christmas shopping trip which I, unfortunately, had to miss out on this year. When they took time out of their evening to come see me, here’s what they saw.

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They also brought chocolate! That tells you both how well they know me and what good friends they really are! The care at the Cross was absolutely fabulous but the food was bad. Really bad! Chocolate helped a lot. In addition to what the girls brought, my husband and son dropped off a Dairy Queen chocolate sundae. I was indeed spoiled!

Water was the essential element in getting me out from behind the lead wall though. Immediately after my IV injection  of mIBG on Friday, my radiation level was 53 µSv/h at two metres distance. I really don’t know what that means but it had to be below 18 before I could be released. While approximately 20% of the radioactive iodine that I was injected with would hopefully adhere to my tumours and begin fighting them, the remainder needed to be flushed from my system. That’s where the water came in. While I was warned not to drink enough to make myself sick, the more I drank and the more I urinated, the sooner I’d go home. I went through several jugs of water and exactly 24 hours after my infusion began, I was down to 14 µSv/h!

I felt no immediate effects of the treatment but the doctor knew what he was talking about when he said that I’d be tired for a few days. Today I feel like I’m suffering from jet lag! Oh well, since I have to keep my distance from people anyway, my calendar is clear and I can nap as much as I need to.

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The battle begins

It’s been almost a month since I posted anything about cancer. After the flurry of appointments and tests in late September and the first week of October, it’s been nice to have a break in the action, but now it’s time to get down to the business of fighting this thing. I’ll be having my first radioisotope treatment tomorrow. It’s definitely been a long time coming. We were camping when I received the phone call telling me that I had cancer and now there’s snow on the ground! Fortunately, NETS are very slow growing tumours so there hasn’t been the same urgency to begin treatment that there is with many other kinds of cancer.

Early tomorrow afternoon, I will be injected with iodine-metaiodobenzylgaunidine, a radioactive substance better known as mIBG. It will be absorbed by my tumour cells and, if effective, will control some or all of the symptoms and inhibit the cancer’s growth, basically rendering it dormant. It may also make the tumours shrink.

Radioactive mIBG will remain in my body in diminishing amounts for up to 14 weeks. Most that is not taken up by the tumour cells will be eliminated within the first few days but, in order to protect other people, I will be isolated in a lead lined hospital room until my radioactive exposure rate drops below a certain level (likely 24 to 48 hours) and then I will be required to live a somewhat restricted life until 14 days have passed. While in hospital, I will have to stay behind a boundary line in the room. A tray table will be placed near the door so that meals, medications, water, linens, etc. can be placed on it for me to access without hospital staff having to come all the way into the room. I will not be allowed any visitors but there will be a small window into the room that people can see me through and a phone in the hallway that they can use to talk to me! Sounds a bit like jail, doesn’t it?

What will I do to keep from going stir crazy? I’ve packed library books, magazines, my Bible study book, a cross stitch project that I haven’t touched in ages, a deck of cards to play Solitaire with and a notebook in case I feel like writing. I’m not really a TV watcher but if there’s one in the room, I’ll probably see if I can find something worth watching.

Here are a few of the instructions that I’ve been given to follow after I go home:

  • drink plenty of fluids and urinate frequently to help flush any excess mIBG out of your system
  • use extra careful hygiene habits (followed by very detailed instructions for using the bathroom that I won’t go into here!)
  • shower once or twice daily and keep your facecloths and towels separate from others
  • wash your clothes, towels and bed linens separately from those belonging to anyone else
  • wear socks, slippers or shoes at all times
  • sleep in a separate bed (I’m moving into the guest room)
  • if possible, use a separate bathroom from others in the house
  • starting from 8:00 AM, you may have 8 hours of social contact no closer than 3 metres (10 feet) with your primary caregiver/spouse
  • each day, you may have 2 hours of social contact no closer than 1 metre (3 feet) with your primary caregiver/spouse

Though these rules sound pretty rigid, I’ve been told not to become a hermit. For example, I’m allowed to go grocery shopping because that won’t require prolonged contact with anyone in the store and Richard was delighted to learn that I can safely prepare his meals!

So, how am I feeling about all this? I’ve heard it said that a positive attitude is a mighty weapon in a battle like this one and I figure that if I have to go through this, I might as well have a bit of fun with it! In spite of the seriousness of the situation, there’s been lots of teasing and laughter about whether or not I’ll glow in the dark (I won’t!) and whether the radiation will give me super powers! Now, that would definitely be fun, but I haven’t decided what my super hero identity should be. Any suggestions anyone?

Letters from the past, final installment

As I continue to read through the letters from my father’s university classmates, I feel as though I’m getting to know some of “the boys” personally. They’re becoming real to me through the words they wrote more than 60 years ago!

I especially love John’s wacky sense of humour. Like many of “the boys”, he obviously enjoyed teasing my Dad about his height. Shortly after my oldest brother’s birth, he wrote “Congratulations Old Man! (Dad was all of 27 at the time.) Please share these best wishes with your wife. The few minutes of thought I have had time for since receiving your announcement have made me realize what a brave girl your wife is – why the chance that she might be the mother of an almost infinite length of child – I can almost see her wondering if when he leaves her for his first day of school if the roles will not be in the somewhat reversed position of CHILD looking lovingly down on her and patting her on the head. Ah! Well! since I was not able to get to your wedding and warn her of these things I suppose I must carry my guilt with me these long years.”

A few months later, Oz, who was by that time living on the island of Curacao in what was then known as the Netherlands West Indies, wrote “Our congratulations on your recent expansion from partnership to company. I know without asking that Don Jr. is the best six-month old baby that you have ever seen. When he gets to the walking stage, may I suggest a small weight on his head lest he have any notions of growing taller than his ‘old man.'”

As time went by, wives, children and family vacations began to crop up more and more often in the letters. In August 1951, Gordon wrote “The only ‘big’ news, at least from my point of view, is that I am going to be married at Christmas to a girl I met at Oxford. From your letter, I see that you and most of our classmates are miles ahead of me in this sort of activity but better late than never.”

In 1955, shortly after the birth of my younger sister, we moved into a waterfront house in Powell River. The beach became our playground and I could hear the sound of the surf from my bedroom window at night. My father must have shared this news with his classmates as John comments “The new house sounds most intriguing – view, beach, swimming in April – even if it is salt water. When we visit you I will join you in a dip as long as you can provide a good garden sprinkler to wash away the crystals of NaCl.” (They were chemical engineers, after all!) John and his family did make that promised visit but not until the summer of 1959. A letter written in April of that year fills my father in on their holiday plans. I vaguely remember a family with two children visiting us but I was only six and I didn’t recall who they were until I read this letter.

I’ve learned more about my father through these letters too. In September 1950, John congratulated him on achieving “the status of professional engineer – the first of Chem ’46 and the second of Science ’46, I believe – very good.” Dad didn’t talk much about his work while we were growing up so I was completely unaware of the fact that he published research papers but in August 1951, Gordon wrote “Congratulations on your publication. I can see that you are thriving in this Engineering business.” and a short note from Norm in 1958 says “Many thanks for your gift of a copy of your paper on groundwood from sawdust.” That shows how little I really know about my father’s work; I had to look up the meaning of the word, groundwood!

The final letter in the packet was written in January 1963, almost 17 years after my father and “the boys” graduated from UBC. Though letters became fewer and further between as years went by, I’m sure that some of them continued to correspond for many more years but those letters have been forever lost. How thankful I am that, as I sorted through everything in my parents’ apartment, this little pile of correspondence caught my eye and I decided to set it aside for a closer look when the job was done!