Author: pioneerintrees

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Point Pelee National Park – in November

Posted on November 13, 2022November 13, 2022 by pioneerintrees

In early November I headed to Point Pelee National Park with my fellow adventurers, Marie and Kerry. It was a fair drive for us (5.5 hours), but we were up for it! We had booked 3 nights in an oTentik and the weather was promising, with sunshine everyday and no sub zero temperatures at night!

Check in is 3pm, and we got there around 4 … so we hauled our stuff to the oTENTik, bought some wood before the store closed and then headed out for a quick hike (November days end by 5:30 in Southern Ontario). We figured we’d stretch our legs a bit and catch the sunset, which was pretty awesome.

A bit about Point Pelee National Park

Point Pelee is a peninsula that juts southward into Lake Erie. It’s very close to the USA/Canada border – not much further west are Windsor ON and Detroit USA.

Fast Fact: Point Pelee is the southernmost point of mainland Canada! It’s approximately 7 km long. Walking to the tip is pretty neat. We were so lucky to have bright sunshine, warmth and relatively light winds (note the waves on the west side of the spit and the calm on the east). Since we were there on the off season, it wasn’t crowded at all.

Point Pelee is known for being a “major migratory flyway”. In other words, if you’re a birder, you’ll want to go and check out the birds that land there during their migration. We saw a dead bird and a dead monarch butterfly on the beach, a pair of bald eagles, a flock of black birds, and at the Marshlands a great blue heron and some ducks. (Obviously November is not when you go there for the birds!!)

Aside from birds, Point Pelee has all sorts of interesting vegetation – from the cattails in the Marshlands to the Carolinian Forest (named after the Carolinian states, ahem). We saw prickly pear cactus and groves of horsetail, and huge vines wrapping around shaggy barked trees. Very cool to notice the differences between the Carolinian forest and the one I live in, east of Toronto.

The trails in the park are very well maintained. The vast majority are hard packed and with the peninsula being completely flat, they are very accessible for easy hiking or biking (you can rent bikes at the Marshlands store). There is only one area of trail that wanders close to the beach that is much harder to walk on. In the time we were there we figured that we walked all of the trails – or close to it – approximately 13km / day.

The Marshlands boardwalk is 1 km long. It’s very cool to walk that loop and use your binoculars to try to identify the various ducks (and the single heron). During the regular season you can rent kayaks and canoes, which would be fantastic.

Our campsite: Camp Henry

We were pretty impressed with the oTENTik and amenities at Camp Henry. The tents are fully stocked with cookware (e.g., pots, utensils, plates, cups) which is so handy! The majority of oTENTiks are heated with a gas stove – three have a wood stove. Each site has a new gas bbq, picnic table, secure food box and a fire pit. Since our wood was not exactly dry, we fussed over our fires. This was our only complaint about the park services. No biggie.

We had a raccoon visit us at our campfire each night, so yes, we made sure our food had been put away! The storage box is really handy, you can drop a cooler into the bin and have plenty of room for other bags of food. Luxury!

The bathrooms are sparkling clean and well lit, the showers were hotter and stronger than mine at home. Special bonus was the washing area, with two sets of double sinks for cleaning dishes – dishwashing soap included! Super impressive. At the store Josh sold us (damp) wood & kindling and a few gift items (no spoilers here!). As mentioned previously, at the Marshlands site there is another privately owned gift store which has all sorts of amazing merch and provides rentals.

The best thing about wandering through a National Park is seeing unexpected and beautiful things.

We enjoyed exploring the beach for rocks and dead things, checking out bird nests, and considering what species of trees we were looking at. Oh, and berry-filled poop!

Stay tuned for the next National Park adventure…

first stop: Thousand Islands National Park

Posted on September 24, 2022September 29, 2022 by pioneerintrees

On a road trip to PEI back in 2018 we stopped for a pit stop at the Thousand Island’s visitor’s centre in Mallorytown. We took an obligatory sign photo – you can see the pain of it in Liam’s face and posture – and then explored a bit.

My First oTENTik

During our hike around the National Park, we saw some very cool A-frame tents facing the river. We couldn’t fully investigate since campers were occupying the tent, but I knew that I wanted to stay in one of those tents some day. They looked so civilized …

Fast forward to the present, when the recollection of those tents became the impetus I needed to get me into a National Park during the fall. Who wouldn’t want to bypass sleeping on a thin pad in a tent? (Ok, lots of people love that, I do too, actually, but still…) So I did a search and found that there are many of these tents (“oTENTiks”) in our National Parks, not just Thousand Islands National Park (and they are close by – woot!). Search again, and I shouldn’t have been surprised, but they’re generally all booked up, even in the shoulder seasons. Eventually I was able to secure 2 nights on McDonald Island in the Thousand Islands National Park for mid September. This would be National Park #5 for me!

All I needed was a couple of willing (and available) friends to go with me… and that was surprisingly easy, considering the complications of having to get ourselves to the island! (YAY Marie and Carol!) After lots of discussions and planning we took 2 kayaks and rented a third in Gananoque, which has the closest boat launch to McDonald Island. (Note: overnight parking on city streets is free until October 15th. Bonus!)

Getting There

Packing (and unpacking) for any trip is always my least favourite part, and this trip was no exception, for me at least. The three of use had to not only determine what we need, but be mindful that it would fit into our kayaks. (Yes, it all fit…) Needless to say, we learned a lot about the limitations of a dry sack’s flexibility and the pros and cons of randomly stuffing items to the far reaches of a kayak’s tip or tail.

Mid September camping is not without risk, especially when you are paddling across the St. Lawrence to get to your campsite, but we had phenomenal launch weather and a calm river when we put in. It took us a while to find our island (while there are not actually 1000, there are a shit ton). There are several solid docks and a nice beach for mooring on McDonald Island, but after we landed there and found our campsite, we decided to paddle around the island and pull up right in front of our site. These 3 photos are taken with me standing in one spot and swivelling from side to side. (You can barely see top of the oTENTik in the opening of the woods. Look harder!!) It was a pretty awesome site! Site 2A. Highly recommend!!

Camping on McDonald Island

McDonald Island has a self check in. You pay docking / beaching fees, your wood, and your campsite (cheque or credit!). You can leave your recycling and your garbage in handy bins, which is pretty awesome. There’s a cart for hauling your stuff to your site, 2 incredibly well ventilated and maintained toilets, and 3 communal eating areas to enjoy (one is a large covered structure with a wood stove). At each oTENTik site there’s a food locker, outdoor covered eating area, charcoal grill and firepit. It’s all very impressive!!

The oTENTik!

Finally I get to show you our oTENTik! It was fabulous in almost all ways.

You can see that there are Adirondack chairs on the deck. Nice touch! (We took these out to the rocks for the sunsets.) It sleeps 6. The mattresses are firm and clean (take a fitted sheet, it’s worth it). There’s a solar powered light and power jack (fits a car cigarette lighter style adapter – who the hell knows what this is called – we didn’t bring one which was a bit of a bummer – read the fine print!). There’s also a nice wooden table and 4 chairs inside, but you’re not allowed to eat, prep or store food in the oTENTik, so we only really used the table to hold our gear. The oTENTik comes with a broom and dustpan, but the floor is very gritty with old dirt (apparently no mopping), so plan for indoor shoes / slippers! No heat, so we had every article of clothing imaginable for cold nights – just in case (FYI, many oTENTiks in other parks DO have heat …). On our second night there was quite the windstorm, which caused the awnings of the tent to flap and snap and make a ton of noise. It sounded like a massive branch was scraping the roof. I was wishing I had earplugs.

Kayaking in Thousand Islands National Park

We had some great paddles around the islands, stopping from time to time to get our bearings, have a pee, eat some lunch, put our kayak skirts on … that kind of thing. The maps that Marie got from the rental shop were really handy because they included marker locations (each marker is numbered so you can figure out where you are). This helped a LOT since all of the islands in the area we were kayaking are labelled #1.

There is a fantastic website detailing 9 routes in the greater Thousand Islands Paddling Trail. We stuck to paddling route #3, the Admiralty Islands, which are relatively protected from the winds. When we went outside of that zone we were buffeted with really high waves and a cross wind. It was fun, and we all had kayak skirts (thankfully), but we were glad all of our paddling wasn’t in that kind of wind.

So that’s camping on an island in Thousand Islands National Park in September! Lots of fun. Go for it!

What I’m thinking …

Posted on September 24, 2022September 24, 2022 by pioneerintrees

Honestly, most of what I’m thinking right now has to do with how much this blog program has changed since my last post, and how utterly frustrating it’s going to be to learn the goddamned thing. Jesus. But I’m retired, and retired people must do what they want. And yes, I want to blog about National Parks, so let’s get to it! #sinceipayforthedomain

On to the topic of this post.

A long, long time ago, perhaps when I was in my 20s, I thought that it would be really cool to visit all of Canada’s National Parks at some point in my life. The years crept by and it went out of my head till recently, as I’ve been thinking about all of the things I can do in this new retired life of mine.

There are 48 National Parks, as you can see in the image on the left. Up until this September, I’d visited 4.

Banff

I went hiking and camping in Banff National Park (in Alberta’s Rocky Mountains) when I was a kid – with my mom, dad and sister. I don’t recall a lot of it – just a general fear of bears, a stay in a cabin in the mountains that featured mice walking over us in the night, and my sister losing a pair of cherished jeans on a hike. I think I was 10 years old. I also remember thinking we were never going to stop walking…

Sadly I have no photos from our time at Banff National Park – at least not right now. But I’m betting I could find a slide or two if I sifted through mom’s boxes.

Fundy

I have camped in Fundy National Park in New Brunswick twice – first in 1993 with my lifelong bestie Carol, and again in 1995 for the honeymoon of my very short marriage (it had nothing to do with Fundy by the way). Fundy National Park was awesome – so many trails to explore and activities for visitors – and the tides are so phenomenal! Visiting Fundy was the first time I explored a National Park as an adult. I loved it, which is why I went again only 2 years after my first visit. (Ok, it’s hard to believe we were 28 … we hardly look old enough to be camping on our own…)

Grose Morne

In 1998 I went to Grose Morne National Park in Newfoundland with Jim. We had initially thought we’d travel all around Newfoundland, but ended up staying in the park for the majority of the time. We simply loved camping there. The proximity to the ocean and a fresh catch every day, the awesome new friends that we met & hung out with, the (rather challenging) hikes – all so great. I recall that it rained a lot, but we were game. We had so much fun!

Prince Edward Island

TWENTY YEARS LATER, in 2018, Paul and I took Liam and Bree to PEI. We rented a cool little cabin in Prince Edward Island National Park, which really didn’t seem like a National Park to me … in my memory it was basically a long strip of beach and woods alongside the ocean. But alas, it counts as a stay in a National Park! We rented bikes, ate fish, explored the beach – the typical seashore beachy type of things that you do. Lots of fun and some new experiences for the kids, and a good way to come back to life after chemo.

So those were my first 4 National Parks!

Coming soon… a wee review of my first National Park exploration since retirement (and my 5th park). Bet you can’t wait.

Netflix Me

Posted on October 19, 2020October 19, 2020 by pioneerintrees

Yesterday I watched yet another incredible movie that’s on the list of “40 Very Best Movies on Netflix Canada You Haven’t Seen Yet”. Thank you, thank you to whomever posted that website link on Facebook a while back. I’ve been going through the list methodically, only shying away from the ones that look too troubling for my tender conscience.

I, like many others during Covid, have been utilizing technology far more than I have my stack of books. I know it’s lazier on the brain to consume a movie than a book, but you can multitask, and that’s my rationalization right there. I’m all about the multitasking. Right now I’m knitting mittens for Christmas, whatever the hell that’s going to look like …

*Yes, another pair of Bird in the Hand mittens!*

So back to yesterday’s movie. I watched Capernaum. A riveting Lebanese film that is so real, so well done, that you don’t remember that it’s a movie. I woke up this morning thinking about it.

*There are subtitles. You need to be able to knit without looking at your knitting. Tricky.*

The main character is a 12 year old boy who is facing judge because he is suing his parents for having him. The movie looks back on the events leading up to the courtroom scenes, starting with him running away from his overcrowded home in Beruit after his parents married off his 11 year old sister for a couple of chickens. Honestly, the most riveting movie.

Capernaum came out in 2018 and won tons of awards, including a couple at Cannes. It was made with a $4million budget (seems like a lot to me, but whatever), grossed $68million ($54million of which was in China … hmmm…). The director is Nadine Labaki, which makes me happy too, given that she’s a successful woman in a male dominated industry and an uber talented actor to boot (she plays Zain’s lawyer in the movie, incidentally).

Go watch it. When I get the chance I’m on the next movie: System Crasher. If it’s really good I’ll let you know.

End notes: I’m not saying that Netflix is the one and only source of good movies / content – I tried out CBC gem last spring when I decided that it really was time to watch Corner Gas. I ended up paying the monthly fee ($4.99) to get rid of the pesky ads. (Can’t even imagine how I suffered through them back in the days of TV.) Since that time I tried to rid myself of the habit of watching “series” … it’s way too tempting for me to watch episode after episode of baking show. Holy jesus! The things that they make!! However, I really must get over myself because Gem has Trickster – a series based on Eden Robinson’s Son of a Trickster, which I loved.

I also learned that I have a free subscription to Amazon’s Prime Video since Liam inadvertently signed me up when he thought the free shipping option on a purchase looked like a good idea. I still haven’t yet used the damned Prime Video since I’m too ashamed that I’m supporting Amazon on a monthly basis when I should be shopping local ALL THE TIME. But that’s another blog post, now isn’t it??

Next up: Weaving

Posted on November 13, 2019 by pioneerintrees

Prologue: So today there was a message in my inbox from Bluehost giving me fair warning of a considerable 2 year fee that will be charged to me in January. I’m impressed that they’re giving me a couple of months to decide if I want to keep this blog going. I love to write and it’s good for my brain, but it’s pretty self focused which is irritating even to me.

I figure since I still have this blog, I should post something, right? Right.

It makes sense to tell you about my recent foray into weaving. It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for EVER … all my life (ok that sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s actually true). I’ve always had a bit of a penchant for textiles. Here’s a run down of my textile making creative life to date: (ok, I know that sounds boring. Maybe it is boring. But not for me. Read on if you’re not asleep already.)

Embroidery

I learned to embroider when I was a youngster. I’d paddle over to Rachel’s cabin (the one that I now own), and sit with her while she patiently taught me basic stitches. I made an eyeglasses case that still sits in a drawer in mom’s cottage. It’s really ugly but I can’t throw it out.

Since then I rarely embroider. Sad but true. In fact the only embroidery I can think of that I’ve done are the little people that I carefully added to this tea cozy (made in the 90’s).

*Made from sunny scraps and extra quilt batting. It’s had one set of repairs and appears to need another as one of the little dudes has lost a leg. Like the yoga people? Namaste.*

And of course, random embroidery on my jeans. But that hardly counts.

Knitting

I learned to knit at camp Oconto when I was 18. I started with mittens which were hilarious – one big one small – but I loved it and not long after I made this hat. I still wear it. ALL. THE. TIME. If I lost it I’d cry my face off. Here are some pics of me in it over the years.

I’ve knit many many things over the years – recently all small things (socks, hats, mitts, scarves – things you can give indiscriminately). I started my journal in 2006 but had already been knitting for about 20 years. (Just think of all of the lost information and questionable commentary that didn’t get recorded!) Here are some excerpts to give you an idea:

Journals may feel laborious, but they become great little memoirs. (Note: Liam wore this sweater zero times after the day of this photo. Annie wore the shirt once or twice more. They basically were shit to knit for. All they like are socks and the odd pair of mittens. And so it goes. Kids these days – now 15 & 18 btw.)

These socks are currently on the needles (almost off, actually). A Christmas gift, so I’d better get the second one cast on…

*Note: if you make them short like these, you can get 2 pair from a Zauberball. Just sayin’*

Smocking

I took a SMOCKING course at a store downtown when I was in high school – WHO DOES THAT? I was weird.

*I made a peach coloured dress for someone’s daughter. No journal, no info. But I kept the patterns.*

Nothing more about smocking.

Quilting

I made my first quilt in around 1990. I cut the squares by hand (I didn’t know about rotary cutters – or about the importance of leaving a seam allowance, so my squares were TINY) and of course I hand quilted it. Blood sweat and tears, baby! Then it was lost. LOST!! SOBBBBB. But there’s a photo of it in my quilting journal, so that’s something. (Of COURSE I have a quilting journal. Shut up all of you non-journallers.) Here are some highlights…

*Here you can see my first (lost) quilt, me working on the denim quilt for Ben (1994), the baby quilt I made for Karl (hands by his grade 1 class @ Chemong PS). Lots of blue in this collage…*

I currently have 3 quilt WIPs (works in progress for you non-makers), two that I’m hand stitching and one that’s in a bin (the quilt top pieces are still being constructed):

the cabin quilt
the one for my mom, and
the star quilt in stripes and polka dots

*1. This quilt for the cabin is also getting a few embroidered people – so far my fav is a dude playing guitar.*

2. Made from my dad’s flannel shirts. While I started planning this quilt in 1997, I didn’t start cutting pieces till 2004, and I’m DETERMINED to have it done IMMINENTLY. I’ll leave it at that.

3. This one is going to be super funky. Sadly, it is a pain in thy ass to make the stars and I need to be in the right frame of mind for it. Once I’m in that frame of mind, I’ll make the remaining 17 in one go. Shazam!

Weaving

So ya, I have so much time for weaving!! LMAO

But seriously, I have been looking forward to weaving for a long time. When I mentioned my interest in weaving to Paul a few years back, he sourced me a loom for my birthday. How nice was that??

“Weaving for Beginners” is the first course I’ve taken since I retired in June. It was 4 days of learning. I loved every minute of it. The confusing terminology: heddles, shafts, shuttles, beater, reed, dents, sley, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. We made a sample on the first weekend – the idea being that first of all we’d have to learn how to “dress the loom” / set up the loom (ok, that process is FUCKING BRUTAL), then learn how to weave the most basic patterns.

*This is my ‘sampler’. I added beads and fringes to make it interesting. It’s fairly hideous, but a good guide to the basic stitches that I will rely on as I do my first projects.*

The second weekend we made a scarf. This gave us the chance to dress the loom again … NO EASIER THE SECOND TIME.

First you have to figure out how much warp thread will go on the loom (the stuff you’ll weave on). You measure it on this warp board, count it, organize it, tie it. Then you lay it on your loom, attach it, and feed it through the heddles one by one. Slow.

I made a scarf! There are lots of errors, but it’s still pretty cool.

My first solo project is going to be a denim rag rug. But it’s stupid to dress the loom for one rug RIGHT?… so I’ve decided that I’ll make 3. I’ve ordered what I need (blue cotton for the warp and a special rag shuttle). In the meantime I need to cut 1/2 inch strips of denim … so … does anyone have any old denim jeans that they want to get rid of??

Until next time, I remain #retiredaf

Silicone Boob Man

Posted on August 28, 2019 by pioneerintrees

A couple of weeks ago I finally got to meet the renowned plastic surgeon Dr. D, at his office in the dirty dirty Schwa, broken wrists and all (he’s not operating right now, relax). First time I’ve ever visited a doctor and shopped at Chapters in the same location, but whatever. Silver linings are everywhere, I find!

Dr. D

I arrived to a small waiting room that was empty save for two older Italian ladies who were struggling to understand the information page they had been assigned to complete. I asked if there was anyone there – they indicated in broken English that the receptionist was out for a coffee. Huh? Within moments Dr. D himself emerged and handed me my own clipboard, then 5 minutes or so later he re-emerged and got me. Not typical waiting room protocol, but oh well!!

Armed with my notepad and pen, I followed him into a small office – typical 2 chairs in front of a desk, atypical large reclining type exam chair (like a dentist’s chair) in the corner. Weird. But ok. Maybe boob exams need to be upright to observe perkiness. (My mind works this way.)

He thanked me for coming, I asked him how his wrists were healing up – small talk kind of thing, and then he asked me lots of questions – when was my bilateral mastectomy, had I had any operations other than that, etc. He had never heard of a SCAD heart attack – I explained it – he indicated that I’d have to be cleared for any surgery by my cardiologist. Interesting fact #1.

Once he was done asking background questions he opened a drawer and pulled out two sample boobs. This is where I leaned forward in my chair.

The boobies

He started by showing me a sample of the expander boob (proper term is tissue expander) and explained that after an incision is made across the scar line, the expander is placed behind the pectoral muscle. Saline is injected once a week for 5 weeks (or until the desired size is reached). The expander has a round spot on the top that is made of a different material – the injection goes in there. But I didn’t ask about any more details. (Expander questions weren’t on my list lol.) If you are interested, you can look at what the Mayo Clinic has to say (a favorite resource of mine).

Then he chose a suitable implant, noting my previous bra size and commented “you have more droop to your skin” (um, ok … I know what you are getting at and I’m 54, ok?). He handed it to me. Of course I stuck it against my chest and thought to myself “There is no fucking way I’m going to wear a bra again!” which translated to me explaining in the nicest way possible that I don’t actually want breasts – I just want things smoothed out. Can’t you do that?

Pause. Dead air kind of pause.

The “this is want I want, what I really really want” discussion

I suppose it’s not common for a patient to come to you and say that they don’t actually want what you have to offer (boobs). I told him ya, I really just want to smooth it all out. Is that possible? So then he said he had to take a look at my chest. He left while I put a robe on (likely because “take your shirt off so I can have a look” sounds inappropriate – but really, … I mean he’s just going to pull back the robe and look anyway! Waste of time. But it did allow me a moment to capture this stunning robe in a mirror photo.)

So I sat in the dentist’s chair and waited. He came in and asked me to stand up (so why have the chair?). He then looked at my chest, allowing me the opportunity to point out exactly what I want smoothed out. Isn’t it OBVIOUS? OMG.

Here’s the first shocking info: when I grabbed onto the fatty remnants of boobie and said “Can’t you just get rid of this leftover breast tissue … I mean why is it even here?”, he told me that it’s not breast tissue. OK WHAT? Nope, it’s SKIN. (Well it’s skin that looks an awful lot like the bottom of my old boobs!!) Interesting fact #2. AND … if he removes it, it will be concave. Interesting fact #3.

I’m thinking that it would be like the divot that Dr E (initial surgeon) causally told me occurred because they likely took too much fat attached to the skin in that spot.

So then Dr. D gave me a bit of an anatomy lesson – showed me where my pecs start and explained that the entire breast was removed. I said “so the breast is in a capsule?” – he confirmed that more or less, yes. Interesting fact #4 BUT I can’t seem to verify this with Dr. Google which bugs me. Regardless, all this time I thought they just missed some of my boobs.

Dr. D went back to the implant drawer and grabbed another sample – a considerably flatter implant with a much greater diameter. He said that this implant would achieve the effect that I want. That is, if I want an implant.

But … do I want an implant?

No I really don’t. I don’t want to have a foreign body in me if I don’t HAVE to. “Lots of people have foreign bodies in them and are fine.” Dr. D had noted. True. Prosthetic hips and knees, pins and bolts to hold together plates that support broken bones, stents, pacemakers… But breasts are optional. Cosmetic. Other implants are not.

At the beginning of our meeting he said (with resignation in his voice) “I’m sure you’ve heard about the recall of textured tissue expanders and implants in the news.” Yes, I said, I had. (I can’t imagine that women getting cancer from a specific type of implants is particularly good for business.) He explained that implants are made of silicone. I listened. And I asked if there are other options.

Dr. D’s Wife

It turns out that Dr. D’s wife is also a surgeon who specializes in reconstruction using the DIEP Flap method. (Two breast people. Imagine what that means, just for a moment.) I’d seen this term referenced here and there but didn’t know a lot about it. Dr. D gave me a summary: fat is moved from one part of your body to recreate your breast. But before he’d explain further, he needed to know if I am a candidate – in other words, do I have enough fat to move. (I was literally scoffing out loud at this point – OMFG my belly might be an ASSET!! I’m the IDEAL candidate! Interesting fact #5.)

He asked me to unzip my pants so he could have a look at my belly (no robe required here, I noted). And then to drop the robe off my shoulders so he could see my back fat (the reason I won’t try on sports bras at LuLu Lemon anymore). He pronounced me a candidate DUH and we sat back down and he told me:

it is a day long surgery (really, a day? You mean 24 hours? 5 hours? Come on. I’m a details person. But I let it go.)
an incision is made across the belly (right across …)
tissue and a bit of your abdominal muscles are removed (my FAT and a blood supply source)
implant is done
the blood supply has to be carefully connected so that the tissue does not necrotize (um gross)
you have to stay in the H for approx 3 days
your abs take a while to heal

I asked if chunks are taken out of the belly – how does that work (imagining two hunks of fat taken out). “No, it’s an incision across … like a tummy tuck.” OK ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?? (Obviously Interesting fact #6, am I right?)

He then showed me what the two procedures look like when they are healed – implant versus DIEP Flap. Essentially implants are more perky and symmetrical and there is a massive abdominal scar with the DIEP Flap. There are plenty of stories of people who have had the DIEP flap surgery done – this one is a good one to look at!

Risks

I asked about infection and risks (thanks Jenny). He admitted that yes, implant surgery comes with a much higher risk of infection. “It’s a foreign body.” (Calmly stated, like I’m an idiot.) Note that he did NOT talk about any other risks. But I will tell you!

I follow #flatandfabulous on Instagram – a hashtag used by cancer survivors who have had a unilateral or bilateral mastectomy (one or two boobies removed). There are many interesting, brave, strong women who share their photos, stories, challenges, fears, etc on instagram. Recently I started following @hollykthrasher who had implants removed after they made her very sick. It’s called an EXPLANT. Interesting fact #7.

Coles notes: Holly went through implant surgery, had marvelous tattoos done and yet was never feeling well afterwards (heart palpitations, sinus issues, muscle & joint pain, chronic inflammation, insomnia). She finally determined, through intrepid research, that her implants were making her sick. She had them removed. Here they are (with the skin and part of her tattoos clinging on).

Note: these implants were in Holly for almost 3 years. You can see a layer of tissue around the implants. These “capsules” are formed by the body as a response to the foreign body being there – likely as a matter of protection. Explant surgery is painful and difficult, since the capsule must be removed as well.

Second Note: Within weeks after the explant surgery Holly said she felt like her old self. You can read more about her or buy a copy of her book (that chronicles her journey) on her blog.

Of course this is not to say that everyone will develop “Breast Implant Illness” (BII is a thing!). But some do.

What’s Next?

I’m going to see Dr. D’s wife, at Sunnybrook and find out more about the DIEP Flap surgery. (We’ll call her Dr. S.) I don’t know that I want the procedure done, but I don’t want to say no till I have all of the information. I have to admit, the tummy tuck / smooth chest combo pack is rather appealing.

I can feel a pros and cons list forming.

Still with the Doctors

Posted on July 27, 2019 by pioneerintrees

You’d think that once they’ve cut your boobs off, dosed you up with chemo for 3 months and then marinated you with Herceptin for a year you’d be good and DONE and they’d let you MOVE the fuck ON. But no. That’s not how it works. I WAS WRONG. This is how it works:

6 months = magic number

It appears that if something were to change in your body, it would take 6 months, because that’s how often they want to see you. Not 7 months or 8. Nope. 6 months.

I went to see my surgeon last week (the cute one who once demonstrated a sense of humour when he said I could get a tattoo of a camel on my sand dune chest). It’s been 1 1/2 years since bilateral mastectomy surgery, so I’ve had a few check ups with him since then. OBVIOUSLY my chest is totally healed up so I was going to cancel (it was SO BLOODY NICE AT THE COTTAGE), but I came home for the appointment because I’m a model patient. (insert grace face emoji)

The check up followed the same procedure as the last ones:

he called me out of the waiting room
led me to an exam room and asked me to gown up, how are you doing, blah blah blah
when he came into the exam room he had me lay down on the exam table & draped me to my waist with a sheet
I had to put my left hand under my head while he ever so respectfully moved the left side of my gown to the side and palpated my chest / scars, etc all while chatting in a distracted way

(Ok, I found that to be SO freaking funny!! I MEAN, I HAVE NO BOOBS!! Does he REALLY need to do the draping and respectful lifting thing? Does he do that with a dude?? I dunno. I just seemed WEIRD that he’d go to all of the effort.) The other reason was so funny was because I’m SO ticklish, and I’ve got my arm up and bent with my hand behind my head and he’s probing around – Jesus it was so very hard to keep from bursting into laughter when he was doing that. Ok, back to the bullets…

he switched to the other side, he palpated and I giggled
he asked me to de-gown and go to his office for the obligatory post exam chat

I said to him at that point “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but what exactly is the point of these visits?”. Deadpan response “I’m looking for recurrence.” WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW?

I had no idea.

Obviously recurrence is a thing

I mean, wouldn’t I go to my oncologist to check for recurrence? My family doc? I figured that the surgeon’s job was to cut out the cancer, not to identify recurrence.

But what do I know?

So we chatted about recurrence. I recalled that at my last oncologist appointment she said that the only way to know if it’s come back is if, well, it comes back. There are no tests. (I didn’t believe that… would YOU believe that?) My surgeon attested to that. He said to watch for pain where there was no pain, shortness of breath, and lumps / bumps where there were none prior. My immediate thought? What scale of shortness of breath are you talking about?? I’m not exactly fit (as evidenced by the extreme cardiovascular challenge of walking up and down approximately 200,000 steps in my recent trip to Italy).

*There are a shit ton of steps in the Cinque Terre, Florence and Positano. Fair warning, my friends.*

But that’s another story. Back to the surgeon’s office …

I ventured to ask him “So … if it were to come back, would it go to my brain first?” NOPE. Turns out it’s the lungs or the liver. Good to know.

Next up?

I’m heading to see a new doc – Dr. Derek in the dirty dirty Shwa (don’t worry, that’s just where he does consults). He’s a plastic surgeon who has a golden reputation for mastectomy reconstruction. I’m very interested to meet him – not only to ask him the following questions, but to see how he’s doing since he (apparently) broke both of his wrists in a cycling accident in June.

These are my questions for Dr. Derek:

what are the options for my sand dune chest?
which is the least invasive?
which will heal the fastest?
what are the timelines for each?
what have most women with a chest that looks like mine opted for? (I can’t figure out how to word that one correctly)
do you have any before and after pics? (before and after reconstruction, not the cycling accident… but I have been thinking about the broken wrists, I’ll be honest)
who do you recommend for mastectomy tattoos?

So that’s where I’m at. How are you? And if you have any more questions for Dr. Derek, let me know.

A Poem for Poetry Month!

Posted on April 9, 2019 by pioneerintrees

really really really

yes!

It’s time to exit

while still fresh

I can go

so why not

taught loads of kids

wiped lots of snot

gained a daughter

laughed a ton

made new friends

I feel I’ve won

June 14th come and DANCE IT OUT! Meet at the McDonnel Street Activity Centre at 7pm – dance till midnight with me, Ace & the Kid and all of my cool peeps.

WOOT WOOT

What’s Done is DONE!!

Posted on January 19, 2019 by pioneerintrees

These days I’m thinking about being DONE and what it means for me to be DONE (yell a bit when I put done in caps, ok?).

I’ll break it down a bit for you. In the next two weeks I have:

a meeting with my surgeon
my final Herceptin treatment
my portacath removed

Each of these appointments represent a different kind of DONE (nice job) and a bit WOOT WOOT (emphasis here too, please, maybe twist your wrists in a circle).

Surgeon Visit

First of all, surgeon man is very charming WOOT WOOT, so I like to visit him, and this will be my last visit with him. Nuff said about that. Secondly, I’m planning to talk to him about plastic surgery and the hypothetical referral that I was given by someone that I cannot recall right now (I think it was he the surgeon, but could have been my family doc). Bottom line is since I don’t know who said they’d refer me, or who they said they’d refer me to, I haven’t been able to follow up, and therefore I don’t know where I’m at with the referral. This is my life. Just ask my secretarial staff.

I digress. Why do I want a referral? Two reasons:

My chest wall looks like sand dunes. I don’t need breasts, but I’d prefer tabla rasa rather than a Dali-esque distorted chest wall. Who cares, you might ask? Well, I care. When I wear clothes that cling I don’t care that I’m “flat chested / non-breasted” (the name of my imaginary post-retirement company that sells bathing suits with no cups). But I don’t want clinging tops that show the deep tracts of my scars. That just looks wrong. Troughs across my chest are not a great look.
I want to have some tatoo work done on my chest WOOT WOOT and I’m thinking that the “memories of boob” bumps could impact the design options. (But what do I know about the effects of bumps on tatoos…)

So ya, I want to see a plastic surgeon. Can she (yes, she’s a she, I remember that much), … can she do something easy to flatten me out? What about the one deep sink hole? That thing is just going to look worse as the years pass, I can tell you that.

*Belly button #2 and portacath bump in upper right. Vogue material right here.*

You can see why the surgeon appointment is an important DONE for me – because it’s a done with a twist. Done with him, and on to surgeon #2. WOOT WOOT!

Final Treatment

This one is a clear DONE. My treatment regimen was 12 chemo treatments (in a row, so once/week for 12 weeks) and 18 Herceptin treatments (once every 3 weeks for a year). I had to miss one Herceptin treatment because of the heart attack, so that’s why I’m finishing 3 weeks later than prescribed. No biggie.

I’ve been counting down the treatments since the summer, each time taking the nurses the same number of treats as treatments that I have left. So it’s become a bit of a “thing” for me. I started with 13 dipped oreos, then 12 muffins …

I really love the nurses in the chemo suite – they’re all so welcoming, positive, gentle, nice… (even the one who I had some reservations about once – I’ve kept my eye on her). Because of the nurses, the chemo suite becomes a safe place to be when you’re in treatment. People are in various stages of feeling shitty, and the nurses treat their patients like family. It’s a nice, calm place to be, and I actually enjoy going. I know that sounds whack, but it’s true. Warm blankets, understanding and a couple of cookies go a long way.

I can’t say that I’ll actually miss going, but it does feel kind of like the end of summer camp. I have to say goodbye. To make it easier, and to thank them for getting me through it, my good friend Annie is coming with me and bringing a whole bunch of her gorgeous charms that she makes out of recycled glass. I’m going to have each nurse choose a charm for her necklace or bracelet. I’m excited to say thank you that way. I think they’ll love Annie’s work. WOOT WOOT!

Truly though, I won’t feel truly DONE till …

Portacath Removal

I get this sucker out one week after my last treatment. Take a look at this video – it gives me video envy! I have no idea how that woman got permission to video the removal of her portacath, but I’m seriously jealous!! It’s so cool to be able to see what’s being done to you.

Having the portacath has been a huge asset. It has been so easy for the nurses to deliver chemo and Herceptin. I have seen some of the other patients’ struggles with collapsed veins, and I’ve felt so grateful for my port. It was also super handy when I had morphine injected straight to my heart while I was passing that GD kidney stone! The relief was literally INSTANT (jazz hands here).

Many people will tell you that cancer is a “journey”. It’s true, it is. My journey is almost DONE. It’s about fucking time.

One Year Since Boob Removal

Posted on November 17, 2018November 17, 2018 by pioneerintrees

Today is the 1 year anniversary of my boobs being cut off. (I wonder if I’ll be reflecting on it every year … jesus I hope not.) I’m not making a boobie cake or anything (although the thought did cross my mind, I’ll admit it). But I have been thinking about it a lot. Mainly because it’s not at all what I thought it would be like.

How I felt THEN

Actually, I’m not sure that I even considered what I thought it would be like to be boobless. It all happened so fast – mammogram to surgery in 2 months. (I won’t go into the galloping again – you can read about it in an old blog post.)

I went in to the hospital on surgery day preoccupied with the hope that Dr. E would have the time to take off my second boobie, the cancer-free one. I was definitely in ‘get ‘er done’ mode. “I’ve got cancer in me? You’re not sure how far it’s gone? TAKE IT OFF. And, oh, … PLEEEEEASE take the other one off too.” I was so focused on him taking them both that I didn’t think too much about all of the other stuff. Like what it would be like to have no boobs. I didn’t actually care. I mean, I felt lucky that they caught the cancer and that it didn’t appear to have spread outside of the breast. It wasn’t like they were going to cut off my arm. It can always be worse!!

I did, however, have the presence of mind to take one last photo of the cancer boob. Lou gave me this white cami for post surgery survival and I decided to snap a before photo. (I’m not even going to talk about my hair at this point. Oh yes I miss it, I miss it. But whatever. Wah wah… )

How I feel NOW

It’s complicated.

On one hand, I don’t miss my boobs at all. Not even a bit. I’m done with the boobies – they served me well and they were quite frankly awesome at nursing. But after that was all done, they were a bit more trouble than they were worth. For example:

I had to endeavour to make them look perky… pushing ’em up. The bras, the bras. The straps! The underwires! Too tight, too loose. So glad to be done with those. Hallelujah!
They were a hindrance to activity.
- Diving into the lake – the bather flies up, boobies pop out / poke out. HA! Diving with no boobs is A DREAM!! No adjustments necessary! I’m basically Victor Davis reincarnated. (Loved that guy.)
- Pose of the child is called that for a reason. It’s not called ‘pose of the middle aged woman’. No. Having no boobs makes pose of the child POSSIBLE.
- Sleeping on your stomach does not require major adjustment. I just sleep. MAGNIFICENT!
- Drinking out of the tap does not necessitate my laying my boobs on the edge of the sink. It’s so damned easy!
They were sweaty!!! And now… no more boob sweat! No more drips between and under the boobs ladies! I can wear a tank top happily. Joyfully. Playfully. Watching me. (I’m always singing in my head. Can’t help it.)
Getting ready quickly was so tricky!! For example, in a woman’s world when someone suddenly comes to the door and the boobies are loose and low under a baggie sweatshirt, they are broadcasting to the unexpected at the door “ya I know it’s 2:30 pm and I was still in my jammies”. Now a T shirt is tossed on in 3 seconds. Dressing is so damned quick.
Most of the good Halloween costumes were unattainable. Now I’m just so much more believable!!

On the other hand, it’s strange having no boobs. I was just so used to them! I still do a double take when I walk by a mirror. I don’t care that I am flat chested. It’s just weird to see. Like when you get your hair chopped off and colour it. (Another blog post… honest to god it’s coming.)

I have no desire to have implants or wear prosthetics (again, the bras… why????), but there are two things that really do bug me:

My chest does FEEL FUNNY.

You know the feeling when you have to get a bit of fluff out of your belly button and you dive in there to grab it with a Q-tip or your finger? It’s a weird inside-your-body feeling. That’s what the scars on my chest feel like. They always feel like something. Vaguely tight. Kind of numb-ish. They feel.

My chest is not flat.

In fact, it’s like sand dunes. The scars are deeper than my chest. (I know there’s a surgical explanation. I will ask Dr. E and get back to you.) At any rate, the scars basically run through the middle of two dunes / divots / valleys. And that’s visible when I wear certain clothing.

Why do I care? Well… recognizing that this may sound totally lame to you, or quite vain, I’d like to have a nice smooth chest canvas for a couple of tatoos. So ya, I’ll see a plastic surgeon and find out what’s possible.

Soon we’ll talk about the hair.