Saturday 19 December 2015

Famine, slavery, dictators - is 5 too young to build a child's social conscience?

I found the most extraordinarily confronting book today in the children's section of the library...It's called Dust and was written "for all children who do not wake up safe and comfortable".  It is a child's voice detailing his own death from starvation.  The images are awful but perhaps brilliant.  I won't be showing my son but it did get me thinking - why?  If I show him will it sink in, will he be more grateful, will he be a more community aware adult?   Here are a few of the illustrations - what do you think?








Friday 18 December 2015

Kardashians - feminist role models or useless piles of commercial excrement?!

OMG!  Can you believe it, a Kardashian - can't remember which one (they all blur into one butt loving bundle of boredom to me) - is doing a TV series on how to look better after a break-up.

I am officially in that space now where anything the Kardashian's do is annoying.  But the first step to recovery is acknowledging the problem.  Let's try to objectively and intellectually rationalise their commercialism;

Perspective Number One:
At least the Kardashian's are not stick-insects and helping to repair a women who has been devastated by a relationship breakdown is great.  They can help these ladies rebuild their sense of worth, give them the confidence to launch themselves back into the dating scene, perhaps even find true love? 

Perspective Number Two:
.....because finding a man and having a boob/bum/jaw/eye/nose job is the best way to value oneself.  Congratulations Kardashian's for reinforcing to young girls that their partner's flaws or the relationship's demise is a result of their appearance - you go girrrlll! 

They really are useless, over-paid, handbag wielding piles of commercial excrement.  Ohh cr@p... session 1 of my recovery clearly hasn't gone well...

Thursday 10 December 2015

Beetroot lipstick

I just read an article that told me to suck on Beetroot ice cubes to have permanently 'natural' red lips....seriously who has the time to discover this stuff!

After the cucumber on my eyes, the beetroot on my lips and the brewed lettuce (to help you sleep?!) I'll have nothing left for the salad I'm suppose to eat for lunch.

Wednesday 9 December 2015

Who does Christmas better - Mother Theresa or Taz (the Tasmanian Devil)?

Warning: this post is all over the place, much like where my head is at today!

Christmas is a time to reflect, to be appreciative and to surround yourself with loved ones....

Then why do I feel like a Tassie Devil whirling around accumulating presents, expectations and bills, whilst balancing an impenetrable timetable, bribing two ungrateful little-ones with ridiculous stories about an all-seeing overweight, bearded white guy with an endless supply of Chinese plastic and doing it all with a 'really I like Christmas' smile...someone hand that women a wine!


Of course one must also cope with this festive season whilst continuing to purchase organic foods, cook paleo dinners, prepare sugar-free lunches, clean the house (but not too much so as to render the children's immune system deficient), sort a few (hopefully clean) clothes so my children don't arrive at childcare naked, be 'present' with my children, remember I have a husband, sort the freakin heating/cooling out which has been repaired 15 times (in a house that is not even two years old - go Glenvill ;), celebrate the 7 birthdays my family manages to squeeze in 6 weeks prior to Christmas, sort the finances, do my job, be mindful, exercise daily and remember.....
... I have a house to clean, I can afford to buy organic food and children's toys, I can read paleo recipes and I have a beautiful family.

Things are not balanced for me at the moment - I'm not exercising, the chocolate is creeping back in (ahh hell, let's be honest, it's flooding back in via morning tea, afternoon tea, Christmas lunches, end of year presents and any other avenue that offers that irresistible velvet elixir), my meditating is barely existent and my blogs are sporadic.   But it's Christmas - the city is alive with buskers and garish red tinsel on my walk to work, my children are inexplicably happy with images of reindeers, I have three weeks off work and a whole lotta Summer to enjoy....Ho, Ho, Ho

Wednesday 18 November 2015

Politics and Schools : will fear or fascination win?

To my son,
Next year marks a major milestone in your little life – you start school!  I am so excited for you as I know how ready your amazing mind is to absorb all the wonder of our world.  You will be exploring countries, learning Mandarin, kicking like Elliott and playing the recorder like…what adult on earth plays the recorder?!  Anyways, the point is, your life and understanding is about to grow exponentially.    And it is in this breadth of information that I find myself drowning…

You have already thrown me a few curveball questions that despite my education and genuine desire to be as free as possible from bias, I find myself answering ineffectively:
“Mummy, do days stop?”
“Mummy, is Heaven real life?”
“Mummy, are men with towels on their heads baddies?”

You don’t know yet what racism is, you are yet to see the atrocious lengths some people will go to in order to secure power, money, land or fame, you are yet to experience your sister being paid less than you for doing the same job.  You “read” the paper for the footy results but I see your eyes scan other pages and a frown settle on your face – what does that little mind think when it sees images of bloodies bodies, AK-47s and smiling assassins?

You ask a question and (generally!) accept my answer.  And so it is upon me to try to articulate to a 5 year-old the complexities of our current political landscape…. 

I don’t want you to grow up with hate in your bones or prejudices in your mind.   But I also don’t want you to be unnecessarily hurt from your own naivety.   Most people are good – the vast majority of people are good but, quite simply, some are not.  There will be some people who want to hurt you, some people who want to rule you, some people who want to use you and some people who derive their own worth by putting you down.  You cannot tell who these people will be by their religion, their bank balance or their beauty.  That is as true on a school playground as it is in world politics.   Adults play the same games as children do but are unfortunately armed.

I cannot shield you from all of this (P.S. Dad – that’s why Mum gets teary when we talk about school!), for to do so would mean a hermit life ….   So instead, be aware that hatred and cruelty are out there but they live in minute, squalid pockets.  Trust your instincts when it comes to removing yourself from a dangerous situation.   Judgments are your body’s defense mechanism.  But judge people on how they treat you not on the colour of their skin, nor their nationality, nor their gender. 

Start your thoughts with kindness, knowing most people will reciprocate.  Share your ideas generously and listen to the ideas of others, knowing that you are seeking the best outcome not your outcome.   

Most of all, step in to the world knowing that I love you as much as the whole wide world plus infinity!

Mum xox

Saturday 7 November 2015

Inside my nightmare - surgery versus flying

I survived another surgery yesterday and statistics show this is quite the norm.

The rather cold operating theater was abuzz with my surgeon, the anesthetist, assisting doctors and nurses.  The melody of their conversation was calming but then I looked at that awful trolley loaded with various size "knives" and I felt a little apprehensive...

Oh well I told myself - it's still better than Wednesday!  What happened on Wednesday I hear you say?  I had to fly from Melbourne to Sydney return.  This flight is just over an hour - a hop, skip and a jump.  It is one of the busiest (9th busiest route in the world which is quite extraordinary given our little population!) and safest flight paths in the world.  The 'normal' passenger gets on the plane, has a quick nap, a light snack and is back on the ground again - easy!

Not for me....I've never liked flying (although I've always liked travelling?!) but since having Cancer I am living proof that fears can be quite irrational (and all consuming).  The minute that plane takes off every muscle in my body tenses, I start to sweat and talk frantically to the poor souls seated around me.  I try desperately to focus on that thud when the wheels hit the ground safely again.

Some people say it's about control (or lack thereof) but I sure as hell don't want to be flying the thing! I love other people driving and I don't batter an eyelid when I step on a train.  So I think "control" is an oversimplification.  I think, for me, it's the finality - no amount of airbags can save an airbus.  I didn't fight cancer to go down in a plane.

I have no idea how I'm going to get to Hawaii for my birthday next year - a whole lot of Xanax and a beautiful family who I don't want to let down...

Can someone please invent a commercial rocket submarine by next December - please xox

Monday 2 November 2015

He didn't even get 18 weeks to live...

I've had a bit of fun with my posts of late but some awful news on the weekend abruptly reminded me of why I started this blog.  In early September I wrote about my Dad's bestie from High School - Mr TJ (18 months to live - what would you do?) who was diagnosed with Grade 4 skin cancer and given 18 months to live. He didn't even get 18 weeks....

I'm in shock that this big, burly Aussie bloke has been taken already.  His height and stature gave me the false impression that he was indestructible.  

He was my Santa Clause personified - he had a huge, jolly laugh, he was honest and brave.  He was kind and just a little bit cheeky.  He had an affinity with the land and the sea - enjoying solo camping trips and dedicating his life to patrolling and protecting our ocean.  

I didn't have the opportunity to share enough of my life with him but those painfully real and open conversations I shared with him in September will stay with me forever.  I know that sounds cliche but I also know that there are very few conversations deeper than your own mortality.  TJ shared his experience openly and with a courageous humour that only an Aussie larrikin can muster.   

I can only imagine how sad and angry his family must be.  I extended every drop of compassion to them and, whilst I want to somehow make it better I'm not going to write some bullsh!t about being grateful for the time they had.  People experience such an intense discomfort when someone shows grief so we try to 'wash it away' by saying things like "be grateful for the time you had", "isn't it great he lived a full life".  And whilst that's all technically true, it's still deeply painful and unfair that he's gone.  

The only small consolation I have is that I wrote my blog for him in time for him to read it and he sent me the most heart warming texts in the subsequent days.  Wrap those you love in the biggest hug and tell them daily why they're special... xoxo

Wednesday 28 October 2015

Back to Your Future - a message from Marty on 2045

Unless you've been marooned on some faraway, completely isolated island you would know that we have finally arrived in.....the future! 

On the 21st October 2015 Marty McFly and Doc Emmett Brown arrived from the past in their DeLorean (I seem to be developing quite a connection to the Back to the Future series with all my Emmett Brown references!).  In the 80's twenty-fifteen seemed so very far away...and the writers must have thought they were revolutionary in their predictions.

Whilst the flying cars and re-hydrating pizzas have not been produced (at least to my knowledge) they were pretty accurate with the flat widescreen TVs, tablets and video chat. 

It got me thinking...what do we think 2045 will look like?  Don't think about monetary or technological constraints, just think about the most awesome and life altering invention you can think of.  And imagine what you will be doing in 2045?!

I know a 30 year plan is rather unrealistic (especially considering I've never done a 5 year plan!) but dreaming big seems to be something that is squashed out of us as we grow up. 
Imagine the fun and crazy conversations that would ensue if you asked a room full of children what 2045 would look like....but adults put caveats and disclaimers on their dreams or worse still don't have them.   After all our goals must be S.M.A.R.T (specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and timely).  Well - why don't you just line up innovation alongside creativity and shoot them both!

So - I'll set a challenge for you all.  Write down a dream, put a time stamp on it and now it's in the digital memory bank we'll have a chance to go back and see how hilariously inaccurate or unnervingly accurate we were...

My 2045: people will fly (no need for flying cars McFly), spinach will taste like chocolate, trees will dominate our landscape with houses surreptitiously incorporated, I'll be alive and well celebrating (on the Whitsunday Island I somehow acquire) the birth of my 5th grandchild and my job will be buying people gifts and exploring the world!

Tuesday 20 October 2015

Death of Kardashianism

We seem to live in a world controlled by the fear of anonymity.  More people than ever are striving to get their noggins on YouTube!  It doesn’t seem to matter if you have any particular talents or attributes – just get your face on YouTube, increase your Twitter followers and post pictures of your over-manufactured derriere on Instagram (or is it Snapchat or Pinterest?). 

So, besides sounding like a dinosaur that has no idea of the current ‘it’ digi channel, my point is I’m really fearful of the current reverence given to the likes of the Kardashians.  I understand and respect the worshiping of sporting heroes and movie stars.  After all they actually possess a talent and in many cases display an incredible level of skill.  But what are the Kardashians actually good at?  And are they so good at something that they deserve the ridiculous amount of money they earn?  Can they sing, dance, act, play tennis, football or run, can they drive social change, public policy or inspire women to get an education?

It’s not that I hate the Kardashians, I simply don’t get the fascination!  I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking the epitome of success is the latest Dolce & Gabbana handbag.  I don’t want her to think she needs a nose job, a bum implant and some over exposed cleavage to be heard (yes heard [not seen]).  I want her to admire someone intelligent, brave, kind, skilled, entertaining, humble or selfless – there are so many attributes I can think of that are admirable but not one of them fits the Kardashians.....

Friday 9 October 2015

Fighting for principles of respect, understanding and less lamb chops

I got a flyer in our mail today for the Animal Justice Party.  There's a beautiful photo on the front of a lamb and an adorable, inquisitive kitten on the back.  Awww.  Baby animals = Marketing 101, so I read on...

"The Animal Justice Party (AJP) has been established to provide a political platform for policies and practices that promote respect, kindness, compassion and understanding towards animals".  

Sounds perfect to me - as long as PEOPLE are part of their definition of animals.  Imagine it - a world where people respect differences, lead with compassion and strive to understand...I reckon animals of all breeds would do well!

Don't get me wrong, I entirely agree we should be respecting animals I just wonder if our compassion is a little warped when we'll help a cat but walk straight past a young girl living on the streets?   It's that uncomfortable feeling I get when I read Johnny Depp has spent $320,000 flying his pet dogs home via private jet.  I'm sorry but WTF Mr Depp!  But is it really Mr Depp's issue - we live in a world where that's OK.  We can feed and educate a child for $2 a day...how many kids did that private jet fee equate to??

It all comes back to balance - my favourite but seemingly unattainable goal.  There is no place in our world for animal cruelty, animal testing and in theory I love the idea of Veganism (don't seem to be able to execute that one).   But  I'm sure I've never heard of a kind, compassionate person mistreating an animal - seems like an oxymoron to me.

Friday 11 September 2015

KFC and gastro

On Thursday night my 2 year old daughter started throwing up about 4.30pm and continued to do so every half an hour.  By 7pm the poor little soul was exhausted and miserable and Mum couldn't take any more...so off to the hospital we went (I should mention, as I've noticed a few Americans have joined, that this service is free in Australia).

The staff were really kind, telling us there were several cases of gastro going around.  We were put in the "handle with gloves" bays and my daughter soon relaxed after some anti-nausea medication. I was super impressed with their non judgmental approach.  I was never made to feel like an "over reacting" Mum.   I was musing on this, when I overheard a doctor tell the family in the bay nextdoor to monitor their daughter's diet.

"No probs" said the Dad casually
The doctor went on to recommend "no dairy, lots of veggies and plenty of fluids....avoid soft drink" there was an almost pleading tone to the doctor's voice.

Soft drink!  Who on earth would give their child a can of Coke straight after a fit of Gastro?!  And it only got worse - when I walked past to leave I saw the child (maybe 6 or 7 years old) eating a big box of KFC.  When I saw this, all judgments left me and I was overwhelmed by a genuine sadness - where are our health and education systems failing that some people have so little nutritional understanding?  Or perhaps what is even more frustrating is that we've built a food supply chain that can sell a box of fat-covered chemicals at a much cheaper price than fresh food...

Now I'm no Saint - who doesn't enjoy a McDonald's chocolate sundae (sauce on the bottom and top thanks) every now and again.  And perhaps, just maybe, that is the only food option these parents had available to them.....?


Friday 4 September 2015

18 months to live - what would you do?

Mr TJ is my Dad's bestie from High School - they have a friendship that has spanned 50 odd years, several countries, a couple of marriages, business ups and downs and a health scare or two...(may you all have a friend like this xo)

I met TJ when I was little, really little and he seemed like the biggest human being on earth!  He is very tall and generously proportioned but I have never been scared of him even when I only came up to his knee caps.  He is kind to the core and has a hearty, warm and frequently-used laugh.  He is the personification of the image we push to our children of Santa.

TJ has devoted his life to protecting our marine life particularly from large, foreign (and often illegal) fishing vessels.  I am sure his intimidating frame and big, burly voice helped him on the job (but I'd rather keep the Santa Clause imagery!).  It's a particular type of lifestyle - endless patrolling of the sea and complete exposure to the sun...the latter of which will ultimately cost him his life.  TJ has Grade 4 skin cancer and has been given 18 months to live.

I had the privilege of talking to him in person yesterday and was amazed at his strength and humbled at the dignity he displayed in sharing this horrible information.  I'm not sure if I used the right words to comfort him or whether that's even my role to play.  At some points in the conversation I had no words at all...but perhaps that's OK too. Being sad, being angry and being uncomfortable are 'right' emotions.   The two overriding emotions for me were:

1. ANGER:  He is too young and the world, his world, will be sadder without him.  It sucks and it's not fair.  This gentle giant (rather fittingly) had 2 daughters and now 3 granddaughters - ask any of them if there is a silver lining!!!

2. GRATEFULNESS:  I caught my Cancer early, I have two beautiful children, a loving family amazing friends and the 'leave-pass' to tell them all, whenever I can, that they rock :)

I can do little to help TJ - I'm not a doctor and my quest for wellness guru status is largely failing as I allow myself to get drawn back in to the Busy Delusion.  I think I'm writing this blog to let him know how I have always viewed him - brave, kind, honourable and just a little bit cheeky.  Now fight TJ - fight to prove them wrong, fight to enjoy your world, fight to see your horse make it over to the big-time Melbourne spring racing carnival!

And for the rest of us....be kind and don't stress the little things (yes, that's the sum of my philosophy today...just call me Socrates ;)

Saturday 22 August 2015

Hmmm...delicious chocolate balls - no cooking, no sugar, no worries!

Cacao Balls

These are a winner in my house with the adults who appreciate something to curb the sugar cravings and even with the kids who, at this stage, are convinced they're "chocolate balls".

Ingredients
200g blanched almonds or pecans or walnuts or a mixture - whatever you like!
1/4 cup pepitas
2 tablespoons chia seeds
250g pitted dates
1/3 cup goji berries (can substitute with low-sugar craisins if you're not worried about the sugar)
1/4 cacao power
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1 tablespoon rice malt syrup (optional - you don't have to put this in if you want them to be 100% no added sugar but I like the way it helps the ingredients bind together)
Coconut for rolling

Instructions
1. Put the 200g of mixed nuts in a food processor and finely chop
2. Add all the other ingredients into the same food processor and finely chop (you should end up with the mixture being like a lumpy-paste)
3. Roll the mixture in to balls and coat with coconut
4. Refrigerate, preferably covered, for about an hour (they can then be stored in an air tight container in the pantry...I'm not sure how long for as they never last longer than 2-3 days in my house!).

Enjoy xo


Wednesday 12 August 2015

It's confronting for a lady to be bald!

I can't wait for my hair to grow back!  Yes, this is partly vanity but, more importantly, it will stop the 'side' conversations my husband, sister and parents are frequently required to have.  Well meaning folk (who are not privy to this awesome blog ;) often pull them aside to say "is your wife/daughter/sister OK?" and so the explanations start all over again...

Not sure why I'm blogging about this - I think to highlight the extended effect this annoying disease has and to thank my beautiful family who equally shoulder the burden.   xox

Monday 10 August 2015

What TO DO for a friend who is sick

I have had the most overwhelming level of support from my family and friends, my work and even relative strangers following my cancer diagnosis.   I cannot imagine those poor souls that are forced to endure these experiences alone (makes me think [again!] about how I'm going to squeeze community service into this busy life!).  This support has taken many forms so I thought I'd share the most helpful....

My top tips for what TO DO to help:
1. Cook healthy dinners.
Isn't it funny that when someone is sick we have a strange desire to feed them something unhealthy (cakes, cookies, chocolates). Pre-cancer, I would have been the first to do this (as my chocoholic reputation would demand) now I understand that a good, healthy dinner is one of the most useful gifts someone can provide.  My beautiful mother's group have rotated this gift and once a week my family receives amazing dinners (from hearty beef & veggie casseroles to chicken & veggie pies).  Instead of going to the supermarket, cooking and cleaning I literally get a couple of hours back in my day where I can rest, recover and/or spend non chore based time with my children.  XoXo

2. Arrange play dates
(A) Kids.....compare (1) an afternoon with Mum who can't lift you for a cuddle, can't play footy, is slightly hazy given the drugs (OK-maybe that part could offer some entertainment!) and has turned into a bit of an anti-sugar tyrant versus (2) an afternoon with kids of a similar age where you can run, scream and load up on lard/sugar.
(B) Husband.....a day out at the footy could be just what the doctor ordered for this over-worked, under-paid but greatly appreciated Chief Support Officer!

3. Helpful gifts
I'm not talking about expensive presents.  I mean little gifts that practically support someone's recovery.  For example, my wonderful Mum knitted me a beanie in a particular colour I needed to match existing clothes, my gorgeous cousin found a 'funky' beanie, my thoughtful Auntie gave me a little glass jar to put a fresh flower in each day, a generous friend from work gave me a mindfulness book & diary and another kind friend gave me a special memento that helped her through a similar battle.  A very smart friend gave my husband some strong coffee beans to cope with being both Mum & Dad at night!

4.  Do some errands
A 'cancer-friend' (what a strange title!) told me about her support network which included someone going to the Organic Markets for her and another friend who collected the dry-cleaning/walked the dog/posted mail etc.  I haven't had as much need for this but it sounded super practical and helpful to me!

5.  Be yourself
Drop the awkward and have a laugh!

Sunday 9 August 2015

What TO SAY to someone who receives bad medical news

When someone we love is sad or angry we have an overwhelming urge to 'make it go away'.  We comfort them with words such as "it's OK", "stay positive" or "it's great they found it early".  People are so fundamentally uncomfortable with these two emotions that they inadvertently ignore them or blatantly dismiss them!

I was speaking to a friend today who requires a hysterectomy due to complications following the birth of her 2nd child.  With all good intentions her family and friends have been telling her how lucky she is that she's had 2 children....which, for her, has been translated as - don't you complain that you can't have a 3rd.  Inside she is grieving, angry that a really fundamental choice has been taken away from her but outwardly she is 'not allowed' to complain.

I think back over some of my friendships and cringe as I reflect on 'advise' I have given friends who struggled to have a 2nd child.  I recall myself saying "you have such a beautiful son already" etc etc At the time there was nothing but love and caring behind the words but in hindsight I see how unhelpful they are.  So, firstly, my sincerest apologies!  Secondly, yes there are some people who can not have any children (and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for them) but offering someone 'perspective' when they are stumbling down their path of grief is, unfortunately, like telling an amputee not to worry as they have another leg.

My top tips for what TO say:
1. "That sucks!"  Let someone be angry and/or sad.
2. "There is no f..... silver lining to cancer".
3. Say nothing!  Let them talk, grieve, vent, hurt
4. Ask them if they actually do want to talk about it.  Perhaps they've had enough of explaining what the doctors said and when the treatment(s) will be?!
5. Offer your support, help and shoulder - solutions aren't necessary

Friday 7 August 2015

Hospital Beats - Song #3: Losing Raspberry

Envisage 'angry' music.  You know, that hard core heavy metal where there are so many guitar notes smashed together you can't actually decipher a tune and the lead singer is screaming rather than singing.  That's the back drop for this hospital beat.  Raspberry (AKA my right drain tube) has been given the thumbs up to be removed....

I smiled naively at the nurse when she walked in, blissfully unaware of the pain she was about to inflict!  She took a good 10 minutes to work her way through all the tape they had used to secure the drain tube (apparently stitching it into my body wasn't enough!).  Each time she tugged at the tape she put pressure on my significant cuts and at one stage was using my recently placed 'bolt-ons' as the anchoring point for her hand.   I was working up quite a sweat in an effort to manage the pain but otherwise kept my cool (although "an angry song" was brewing).

She then warned me I'd feel 'a little sting' as she cut the stitches.  I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. Sure enough a few 'little stings' but overall quite manageable.  "Ok, now you'll feel another little sting as we remove the tube.  Can you take a deep breath in for me Sarah?"

I did as I was instructed, taking a big breathe in.  The nurse proceeded to "remove the tube" whilst I screamed in my head every c-bomb, f-bomb expletive I could think of in the angriest song I'd ever heard.  A LITTLE f@#!ing sting - it felt like she'd taken a hot iron rod and dragged it from my arm pit to my waist.  "There we go love, it's all done".  Luckily for her I've been built with this firewall that prevents me from getting angry at people.  

I smiled wearily and sank back in to the pillows - my only thought was, oh my goodness I have to do that all again with Strawberry!  The nurse put some padding on my side, then clicked her tongue in disapproval.  "Hmm, there's a little bit of leakage" she said as she swapped the padding for a thicker variety.  A third pad was used and finally after 10 awkward minutes she was satisfied she could tape it up.

I have subsequently found out that this nurse forgot to turn off the suction before removing the tubing.  So whilst the tube was coming out, it was diligently still sucking out whatever it passed by...hence the burning sensation and pile of gunk!  

Sunday 2 August 2015

Hospital Beats - Song #2: the sound of sleep

One of the most important things about post operative care is sleep...a string of professionals swan in and out of your room telling you to "get some rest" (the irony escaping them that they've just woken you?).  I particularly like the 3am obs! Hospitals are really not condusive to sleep!  As the night time shift settles in and patients make their way to bed (or roll over from day time to night time position) the sounds of the hospital start...

In the room next to me is a tiny lady who has developed a unique coping method - whenever she is required to move she makes a rather high pitched "whoop, whoop" sound.  It's really a very difficult sound to replicate and given she is probably in pain I feel quite awful that it makes me smile.  Across the hall is a generous man who coughs up a lung every 2nd hour!  Room 203 houses a poor old biddy who must be suffering from some kind of inertia as she's constantly telling nurses she's falling.  And of course all the rooms have that steady rhythmic beat of the electronic drips that every now and again make a rather abrupt and rude "ping" when the saline bag is finished.

Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping

Whoop, whoop
Cough, cough
FALLING!
Ping

You see, give anyone some decent hospital drugs, and they'll think they're a musician ;)



Wednesday 29 July 2015

Hospitals Beats - Song #1: Strawberries & Raspberries

The world of western medicine, like any good profession, is riddled with alienating acronyms and intimidating titles.  That's not to say I don't respect the many years of training that goes in to those titles!  But I'd like to share my recent hospital visit from a layman's perspective (apologies to my highly trained medical friends ;)

The hospital where I had my 'procedure' was the same hospital where I gave birth to my two wonderful children and the same hospital where I watched my beautiful 57 year-old mother in law loose her battle with asbestos cancer.  If I had a big, baritone Mufasa voice I might start talking about the circle of life... The point is, the hospital is very familiar to me.  But the needles, the various bodily fluids and that potent ethanol smell intimidates me every time!

On the day of my operation I am escorted to a tiny cubicle and asked to replace my clothes with paper knickers and a heavy cotton gown that flaps open regularly to reveal those rockin' paper undies. A rather stern looking nurse asks the standard set of questions: name, DOB, allergies, admitting doctor, what am I in hospital for today... In answer to the last question the facetious me wants to answer "those creamy, salt-smothered scrambled eggs you serve the day after an operation" but, alas, sensible my tells them they'll be upgrading Thelma & Louise for some younger, more synthetic models (no, I don't normally name parts of my body but I'm clutching at a little dignity).

They then put me in my bed and the most extraordinary measures commence to promote blood flow. Firstly, they squeeze me into some very tight socks which are then covered by white inflatable leg-warmers.  Much like a blood pressure test (although not quite as tight), these leg-warmers squeeze your legs.  There are three sections to each leg-warmer and they soon settle in to a rhythmic massage inflating then deflating up my left leg, then the right.  Finally a big blue synthetic blanket is put over me and a heating duct plugged into the end.  Hot air is blown into the blanket and in no time at all I'm enveloped in the most delicious warmth.

With the air blowing, the leg-warmers pumping and the nurses flicking through paperwork I find the beginnings of an awesome percussion rift.  The musical interlude is interrupted by the surgeon's nurse asking me the standard questions.  I answer her in record time and settle back in to imagining Ed Sheeran groovin along to my Hospital Beat.  But then nurse #3 (the anesthetist's nurse) demands answers to the same standard questions.  Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with all the checking.  After all, you wouldn't want to be accidentally putting a couple of bolt-ons on Mr Jones in Bed 5!

Finally, we're ready for the main act.  I am wheeled into a tiny little pre-op room where I am momentarily left in peace to contemplate what is actually about to happen.  The anesthetist strolls in and introduces himself.  I try desperately to listen to what he is saying but can't shake the undercurrent of indignation I feel toward him given the only correspondence he (or his rooms) managed before this moment was a TEXT message asking me to confirm I'll pay $1000 in addition to his medicare and private health insurance covered fees.  I smile politely at Mr $1000 and hope that in a few moments time I won't be thinking or remembering anything.

A procession of people breeze in and out of the pre-op room - the breast surgeon, her assistant, the plastic surgeon, his nurse and then finally the anesthetist's nurse.  And throughout all these 'visits' is the backdrop of clunking metal equipment on metal trays.  "How many knives do they need?!" I ask the latest nurse.  "Ah yes, sorry about this" she smiles "The last surgery ran a little over so you've had to wait here an unusually long time".  Oh, how I dislike that word unusual now!  65 minutes later, Dr $1000 finally returns and administers that 'little scratch' that sends me off to sleep.

I have neither the stomach, nor the knowledge to document what happened over the next 4 hours...but when I woke up there were strange inflatable bags on my chest and drain tubes stitched in to my side. These tubes ended with clear plastic bottles diligently collecting the blood and fluid draining from my wounds.  The site of these bottles made me want to puke so I did the only thing I know how to do in such medical environments - not take it all that seriously!  Instead, said bottles, have been knighted Sir Strawberry and Sir Raspberry and they are the key to me getting out of hospital..... TO BE continued.

Tuesday 21 July 2015

Can relaxing your mind fuel your body? Meditation part #4

I can now tick off the list 'learn how to meditate'... I've officially completed a four day course with a highly (and 'traditionally') trained meditation expert (who I have affectionately named Dr Calm).

The course was one on one and was completed in her home.  It was intimidating and potentially useless if I didn't discard my judgements! As I walked into her apartment in an appropriately alternative suburb in Melbourne I was greeted with the smell of cats. I was asked to remove my shoes and was guided into a tiny little room with futon couch, waterfall pictures and burning incense.   The swish swish of her corduroy pants made me smile.

The flowers, fruit and white cloth I was asked to bring were all used in an ancient ceremony that empowered Dr Calm to find my mantra.  She whispered a strange word in my ear three times - this was my mantra, this was my invitation to the world of meditating...  And to counterbalance the growing image of levitating monks from your mind, I must admit Dr Calm also spent a substantial amount of time explaining the science behind and physical benefits of meditation, including sharing some referral success stories she had been involved with in psychiatric patients.

Now it is up to me - I can dismiss her and her teachings as mumbo jumbo or I can give it a go.  There seems little downside to me.  Twice a day for 20 minutes I get to have a space where no demands are placed on me physically or mentally.  No bums to wipe, no tears and tantrums to placate, no reports to write, no future plans to make.  A growing awareness of my body and a blossoming appreciation for the here and now.  It's all good - so what's stopping me....NO, don't say it!!  I'm too busy to... How am I going to find 20minutes twice a day?!

Monday 20 July 2015

Healing - a step forward, a step backwards!

Amidst the meditation lessons, diet changes and supplements research the giant hand of western medicine strikes again!  With one simple blood test my healing path is jolted in a different direction.  You see I finally have something in common with Angelina Jolie - a BRCA gene.  What does this mean?  Even if I treat the existing cancer I have a high chance of another new one forming.  The 'best' option I have to help myself is a bilateral mastectomy (and reconstruction).

My initial reaction is to say "of course, get rid of them if they're going to kill me!" but then you allow that awful Dr Google to creep in.  I've read some of the most amazing and inspirational stories of women who have "fought off" their genetic predispositions...however these success stories are few and far between whereas there are thousands of successful "Angelina" cases.   I have the chance to improve my odds exponentially and I like the sounds of that :)

So once again, Dr I/M is relegated to the back of the queue (I can just see her Dr Emmett hair shaking in frustration ;) and I'm focusing on Horse #7 "best rack in the nursing home"!

Friday 10 July 2015

Meditation Part #3 - Hare Krishna and/or ultra-successful

The mindfulness discovery path I'm on is now literally smelling like roses....quite a transformation from attempt #1

You see, I've been asked to bring the following to my first meditation class:
* A bunch of fresh flowers - at least six
* Two or three pieces of fresh, sweet fruit
* A piece of new white cloth – a new white handkerchief is perfect

So - what are you thinking (honestly!)?  Have I got myself caught up with a quasi Hare Krishna group...I'll be wearing orange and bald in no time (oh, hang on - I've already satisfied that ;)    Or do you think it's wise to broaden my perspective?  Perhaps I may have stumbled upon the answer of how to keep all those little buckets of life full and happy?!

Monday 6 July 2015

Meditation - attempt #2: time to call in the reinforcements

My first attempt at meditation was...how do I put this delicately, well, it was dreadful!

Once my body was comfortable and my breathing rhythmic I found it almost impossible to control my mind!  It was like the comfort and quietness fuelled a thousand thoughts. My brain was celebrating having space to think creatively and without interruption. Instead of relaxing and "consciously bringing awareness to the here and now", I was off and racing - imagining a month long holiday in Hawaii, writing a book, learning to ice skate (why would I need this skill in Australia?!), inventing healthy chocolate, seeing the Pyramids...you name it - anything but stillness.  Some will analyse me and say perhaps I am fearful of what I might find in the quietness or perhaps I lack discipline or perhaps I merely replicated how I currently live my life - busy!

Either way, it didn't take much for me to determine I needed help with this! So on Monday I went to see a meditation "expert" (let's call her Dr Calm).  It was a meet 'n greet, no pressure to buy just a genuine conversation about what meditation is and why people practice it.  If I liked Dr Calm we could go ahead with a course... The more relaxed sales pitch ;)

Whilst Dr Calm did embody all the adjectives you would expect - calm, kind, considered, she was also refreshingly intelligent, well-read and relevant.  She told me how it's not easy to brake suddenly at high speed.  We have to allow ourselves to pause long enough to relax.  It's a really hard skill to develop in a world where everyone and everything expects you to be busy.  Busy is associated with accomplishment.

"But aren't you just adding another thing on your plate by meditating twice a day?" I ask perplexed.

"Yes, in theory." Wow! She was honest. "But many clients say that meditation enables them to think clearer, sleep better, worry less and enjoy more."

Somehow the next 40 minutes disappeared as I learned about the benefits of meditation.  The strange thing was it never really felt like a sales pitch, it was clear this lady really believed in what she was doing.  Although perhaps that was the sales pitch?!  We also briefly did some postural and breathing awareness which managed to wipe the memory of my first 'soiled' attempt at meditation (for those that read my first post on meditation please excuse the lowbrow pun)

"How much is the course?" I ask tentatively
"It's a week's wage"
"I'm sorry?"
"I find it fairer to charge people in proportion to what they can afford. Don't let money be the reason you say no.  I had one lady pay me $20 a week for a year!".
"But couldn't people just say they earn...well, not much!"
"Yes, they could" Wow again!!  She assumed honesty in others.

So Dr Calm's convinced me - I begin a four day course on Thursday.  Here's hoping I can turn this automatic pilot off!

Thursday 2 July 2015

Hat #3 - animal instincts

Funky Friday: Hat #3 - Actually it's not a hat...it's a scarf!



Tuesday 30 June 2015

Profiting from Cancer - don't eat kale if you break your leg!

Profiting and Cancer are two words that don't sit comfortably together yet that's exactly what Belle Gibson did.  For those of you that don't know the now infamous Ms Gibson, she is a young Mum who fraudulently claimed to have Brain Cancer and, even worse (yes, it can get worse!) she claimed to have cured this incurable cancer through alternative therapies.  Her initially tragic tale and then miraculous survival story generating an enormous interest, attracting hundreds of thousands of followers, an app and, of course, a book deal.

This young lady was interviewed last night on 60 Minutes and whilst I don't want to give her any more airplay I must say there were a couple of themes that came out of it that really worried me.

Firstly, this strange and misguided belief that there is strength to be gained from rejecting conventional medicine.  If you broke your leg would you start eating kale?  If you had a car accident would you start taking Vitamin B17? If you cut your finger off would you start meditating?  So why when faced with an equivalently traumatic disease like cancer would you reject the professionals that can re-set your leg, can cut you out of that car or can sew your finger back on?!

That's not to say that once the symptom is treated you shouldn't optimise your future health.  For example, the broken leg may increase your chances of osteoporosis and it may have damaged your muscles.  It would be wise to watch your calcium intake, ensure you're within an optimal weight range, exercise to strengthen those muscles.  The best method to empower yourself, in my mind at least, is to have all avenues on your side.  Eat well, exercise, reduce stress, discipline your mind, love your family and find connections.

The second theme that concerned me was that being a 'wellness warrior' is easy to achieve.  The cold hard facts are that it takes effort to eat organic, homemade meals.  It takes effort to get up before the kids to go for a run.  It takes effort (and a whole lot of support if you are a parent!) to close that computer at work and reach your meditation class/writing class/friends dinner (insert any type of hobby here!) on time.  We lead such an "and" life...I am a parent "and" I work "and" I exercise "and" I eat only organic food "and" I etc etc  Something, somehow has to give - don't let it be your health.

I almost felt sorry for Ms Gibson last night - she was torn to shreds by the interviewer and seemed so genuinely tangled up in all her lies that the truth was indecipherable to her.  I ALMOST felt sorry for her but then I remembered she appealed to an incredibly vulnerable group of people and potentially cost some their lives....all in the name of making a few dollars!

Wednesday 17 June 2015

The brighter side of adversity - cancer can help someone...

The brighter side of adversity

When I found out I had cancer I just wanted the d@mn thing out of me!  It didn't occur to me to be worried about my hair (until of course I was bald, but that's for another post!).  Initially, I used the hair loss as a wonderful fund-raising distraction.  Many of you participated in my "Cut and Cullen" campaign which raised a staggering $23,000 for Youth Off The Streets.  Who'd have thought that cutting off a pony tail could be so rewarding!

I am really pleased to tell you that all the funds have finally reached the charity (after some administrative hiccups with matched giving).  Last week I had the most humbling and inspirational conversation with one of the representatives from Youth Off The Streets (YOTS) which I wanted to share with you all....

The rep explained to me that their services are devoted to children 12-25 who are forced into homelessness by drug addiction, social isolation, neglect or abuse.  Kids who receive no family support, who are ridiculed by peers, who are 'written off' as dumb, no hopers or worse still, fall into criminal circles.  It is YOTS goal that these young people will leave their care drug free, with a high school education, with living skills and a job.  The kind of money we raised will completely change someone's life!

Can you imagine your home-life being so bad that your best option is to live in a car or worse still live on the streets...these are the options being faced by 14,15,16 year old children.  When I found out I was sick I wanted my Mum&Dad.  I wanted my Mum to hug me and my Dad "to fix it"...cause he fixes everything :)  I took for granted that they would both be there to help me, to hold me, to guide me.  These kids, when faced with their own problems, receive abuse from their parents.  The very people who are meant to protect and repair them, shatter their self esteem and physically hurt them.  

I've noticed an increase in beggars in Melbourne recently - is that because I'm now more aware or because there is a genuine increase?  And have I stopped to talk to one?!  Money can of course go along way, and sure I did my part to cut my hair off and donate to YOTS but I think it would be more powerful to have a conversation....so that's this week's goal.  Look up from that i-phone/i-Pad/i-pod and see the people who need to be seen!

Sunday 14 June 2015

The Cure Cancer regime - Check in Number #1

Being told I have Cancer is the most confronting experience I have ever been through.  In the minutes after I finished with the doctor all I wanted was quietness.  The sound of people on their typewriters, phones demanding answering, of the coffee machine hissing out steam - it was all so acute...it felt like everything and everyone was screaming at me.

In a hospital quietness is actually very hard to find!  I wandered aimlessly through hallways until I accidentally (subliminally?) found the chapel. I've never been a particularly religious person so it seemed rather odd to me when I finally registered where I was sitting.  I collected myself enough to ring my husband and my sister and then I just waited.  I waited for them to tell me it was all going to be OK.

In those waiting minutes (and it was only about 20 minutes) I resolved that I would do everything possible to get better.  Little did I know that 'doing everything' would be nearly as overwhelming as the initial diagnosis. The amount of information that is out there and, worse still, that contradicts each other is mind blowing. Supposedly I can cure cancer via chemotherapy & surgery, by starving cancer through nutritional strategies, by using a corrosive topical paste called black salve (which burns and destroys tissue leaving behind a black scar), by surrounding myself with love or, my personal favourite, by jumping on the trampoline!

Overwhelmed with choices I fear I have very little 'Cure Cancer' regime established (other than the western medicine requirements) so my check in #1 is embarrassingly weak.  Dr IM (the Integrated Medicine doctor I told you about a while back, 1st June) wants me to:
(1) Introduce Meditation: Meditate twice a day for 10-15 minutes
(2) Change my Diet: NO Refined Sugar, Dairy, Grains, Soy or Fried foods plus 10 glasses of water
(3) Prioritise Sleep: Aim for 8 hours sleep a night
(4) Take Supplements: 8 in total

The oncologist, genetic councelor and surgeon added to the list:
(5) Chemo: 4 rounds
(6) Regular Exercise: 30mins a day
(7) More Surgeries

According to additional research I also need to ensure I have 'fuel for the soul', so let's throw in:
(8) Soul Food

So I now have an 8-step program - you've gotta have a stepped program right?
Meditation
No
I have tried once with very little success (refer my post 10th May)
Diet
1/2
I’ve made friends with salad, eat lots of fresh produce but sugar is my nemesis and I now spend too much time cooking (my son told his kindergarten teacher that mummy’s job is “to grow food”!)
Sleep
No
The drugs running through me (and I have two kids) have affected my sleep
Supplements
No
Not sold on these plus I've failed to do anymore research
Chemo
Yes
4 rounds done, awaiting confirmation this is it :)
Exercise
1/2
I have introduced some brisk walks but it seems amazing to my lethargic body that I ran a half marathon a year ago!
Surgeries
WIP
Awaiting doctor’s instructions
Soul Food
No
Apparently I have a soul I just choose not to feed it…

Thursday 11 June 2015

Lycra, phones and boob jobs - the beating cancer combination?!

Lycra and the overheard conversation.

May I first start with an apology - I have succumbed to the lycra.  I'm not talking the 2XU or Skins type fluorescent striped leggings with coordinated bright orange Nikes....but, alas, it's still lyrca.  And what's worse (confession time)...they are magnificent -  comfortable, flexible and even helpful in reducing some movement.  

As I hang my head in shame at this first 'yuppification' I find myself drawn to my phone.   You see part of beating chemo fatigue is to get yourself out and about for 1/2 an hour a day to do some light exercise.  But my over-active, poorly disciplined mind sees that as 1/2 an hour I could be returning calls, helping a friend plan her engagement party, organising a babysitter, checking in on Mum etc. So that awful female habit of multi-tasking creeps in and I find myself the perpetrator of the annoyingly loud phone call as I trot around the park in my black leggings.  

And then it happens...I pass someone walking their dog whilst mid-sentence on the phone to a friend: "And then the surgeon said to me I'll have the best rack in the nursing home".  I start laughing but quickly stop when I realise this stranger is staring at me.  The yuppification process is complete, well at least in that stranger's eyes - they see lycra and hands-free cables and hear me laughing about my boob job.  

I feel a sudden urge to hang up the phone and tell this complete stranger that it's not exactly elective breast surgery!  But then, this is a stranger - how odd it would it be to engage in any conversation with them at all.   

Lessons learnt: 
(1) don't judge, there may be more to a person's story,
(2) lower my voice and pull the beanie down a little further

Tuesday 9 June 2015

Saucy Salmon Salad - a good way to lose the dressing...

Saucy Salmon Salad

Ingredients
* 1 cup baby spinach - fresh and washed
* A small avocado
* Two eggs
* 50-100g smoked salmon

Method
* Wash the spinach and put it in a salad bowl
* Cut up the avocado and salmon into bite size pieces and add to the salad bowl
* Pan fry two eggs with a little coconut oil but make sure the yokes remain runny (the key here is to not let the oil get too hot as the eggs will go crispy so have your frying pan on a medium to low heat)
* When the eggs are cooked (sunny side up) add them to the salad bowl as well

The runny egg yolks give this salad all the moisture it needs. If you're not a salmon fan, substitute it for poached chicken.

Do I need to be a doctor, a hippy or a cancer-patient to be a wellness guru?

What is a wellness guru? Surf the net and you'll find a plethora of candidates - predominantly young females with surprisingly little credentials and either a celebrity status (think Gwyneth Paltrow's blog Goop) or a serious illness (think Belle Gibson, oops, except she didn't actually have cancer!). Parking the fact that it is unfathomable to me that someone can lie about having cancer to generate blog followers, the fact remains most people want "an answer" to wellness that is not dripping with difficult-to-understand medical lingo nor does it require us all to move to the nearest commune to burn incense, participate in ear candling and only eat green things!

Where is the balance? Do I believe the Pharmaceutical and Supermarket Giants who manipulate me, incorrectly label products to sell higher-margin items and want to poison the world so we're dependent on their medicines? Or do I believe the inexperienced hippies who wouldn't know their @rse from their mouth when it comes to cleansing rituals? The internet, blogs and the media are saturated with options and with information but they're not really clear on "an answer". Given this, people like me start exploring, researching and inevitably reaching out so they can find a digestible solution...and when you're sick you need 'an avenue' - you need a strong belief that there's a pathway to wellness.

The one 'answer' I have been able to glean thus far from my cancer travels is that, contrary to some conspiracy claims, the medical fraternity indeed supports the value of a healthy diet, regular exercise and the reduction of stress (of course in addition to their surgical or pharmaceutical medical management programs):
* "Each year, about 589,430 Americans die of cancer; around one-third of these deaths are linked to poor diet, physical inactivity, and carrying too much weight."
* "Physical inactivity is the second greatest contributor, behind tobacco smoking, to the cancer burden in Australia".

I'm excited by this - it's accessible (I don't need to crush the horn of some nearly extinct Rhino afterall!). Now the exploration becomes - what are 'healthy food choices' and what constitutes 'regular exercise'? Here are my starting points:

1. Healthy diet = HEALTHY EATING PYRAMID (refer http://www.nutritionaustralia.org/national/resource/healthy-living-pyramid)
2. Regular exercise = ABOUT 30 MINS PER DAY of moderate to vigorous activity (refer http://www.health.gov.au/internet/main/publishing.nsf/Content/health-pubhlth-strateg-phys-act-guidelines/$File/FS-Adults-18-64-Years.PDF)
3. Reduce stress/be more mindful = well now here is a can of worms....back to the meditation classes for me?

So do I qualify now as a 'wellness guru' - I'm 38, I'm female, I have Breast Cancer and I have an 'answer'...oh, and I have a blog!! I'm not a wellness guru...I actually don't think there is any such thing! It all comes down to your definition of "well". Am I well if I am happy and loved but riddled with cancer or do I need to be 80 and rich? I think I'll set about defining what "well" looks like for me before I go striving for "guru-dom".

Wednesday 3 June 2015

Body Image - what we tell ourselves VS what we tell our children

A really interesting piece from Oz about Body Image...



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAzPz94b4mc

Sanctimonious, organic bullsh!t versus caffeine fuelled power Mum

Anyone read the recent article by Susie O'Brien about how unrealistic Jodhi Meares "sanctimonious, organic vegan horsesh!t" of a life is?
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/opinion/hey-jodhi-heres-what-a-real-persons-life-looks-like/story-fni0fhie-1227374226653

I found it fascinating!

There is a certain privilege bestowed upon those that have been dealt the better hand of the beauty pool (of course briefly marrying a Packer and dating a rock legend also helps!). Research has shown good looking people receive better service, preferential treatment and of course rarely 'get picked last in gym class'. Does this give them a platform from which they can pursue life on their terms - the 'it's all about me' ticket...

Some of the comments Meares makes are extraordinarily and naively privileged:
* "there's a sanity that comes with getting up at first light"
* "If I'm about to get on a plane...I see my doctor for a course of Vitamin C that's administered intravenously"
* "It's ridiculous how many yoga mats I own: I keep five in Hawaii, store a few in New York..keep at least four at home"
* "I've got three wardrobes and am building another one...One is purely devoted to shoes"
* "I can only cope with about 5 to 6 hours cooped up in an office"
* "In Summer I'll often finish the day with a swim at one of Sydney's harbour beaches"

But then again that's the cards she's been dealt! I really don't see her harming too many people (other than the recent cars she smashed in to!). My problem with the life that Jodhi portrays is that a 'charmed life' consists of chai tea, vinyasa yoga, ten wardrobes and first class holidays. It reminds me too much of the dreaded Kardashian clan whose pursuit of surgically created beauty and the perfect pair of heels are regarded as triumphs. Now don't get me wrong, I'd love to be a little taller, have Ang-style lips and who doesn't love a bit of glitz and glam when you're out on the town. But to me, it just isn't enough!

So I'd take your life Susie:
* Yes a little hand whacks you on the back to wake you up rather than the sun
* Your taxi service starts early and finishes late but you're the recipient of their bubbling pride as they show you their latest school project
* You may sit in your office for a little longer than 5 hours but you surround yourself with intelligent, worldly people who are diverse in their opinions and passionate about things greater than themselves
* Your chardy (or in my case, bubbles) may flow a little more freely than the intravenous Vitamin C but you can laugh uncontrollably with good family and friends

To me, Susie, your life is rich and charmed. BUT....there's always a but!

You're so "busy" you may just forget to look after you. And that, unfortunately, is just as dangerous a message as the superficial cashed-up celebrities. You have done what so many modern day Superwomen do - you've put yourself last. That hamburger dinner, non-existent exercise and zero time for yourself (sans children and work iPads) is doing you no favours. I don't know how to get this balance right - does anyone?! It would seem a more worthy discussion than advocating two unhealthy options.

I've recently thrown 'beat cancer' on to my TO DO list so this perilous juggle of life's buckets seems more acute than ever. I'd love to know how other people fit it all in!

http://imtoobusyto.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Home

Tuesday 2 June 2015

The caveats, disclaimers and rules

* I am not a doctor, a naturopath, a physio or a lawyer. I am a young(ish) Mum fighting cancer and trying to find out all the information I can with pragmatism not degrees.

* All views and opinions expressed on this blog are owned by "I'm Too Busy To" unless otherwise stated.

* I share my knowledge and my research with the hope you will do the same

* Please don't steal my content or photos. If you are going to share this content on any social media platforms I would be most flattered so please just link back to my blog: http://www.imtoobusyto.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Home

* I would love to have a healthy (excuse the pun!) debate about everything and anything however if your comments are discriminatory, hateful, extreme, abusive or threatening I will delete them, block you from my site and take further action if required.

Squeaky, sweet salad - you can make friends with salad

Squeaky, sweet salad was an invention of necessity - it comprised the items left over in my fridge with a drop of adventurousness!

Ingredients

1 punnet (container) of strawberries 250g
1 packet of haloumi cheese 180g (most supermarkets have an organic version)
2 small avocados
1 tablespoon of olive oil.

Method
* Most haloumi comes in a rectangular block which I cut into 1cm strips before cooking. Grill or pan fry (with a little oil) the haloumi and set aside to cool on a paper towel.
* Take the green tips off the strawberries and cut each one in to four pieces
* Cut up the avocado in to small squares (similar in size to the quartered strawberries)
* Cut up the cooled haloumi into small squares (I do it smaller than the strawberries as the texture is still 'unique' for the kids)
* Put all the diced ingredients in to a bowl and drizzle over the olive oil.
* Toss before serving

The combination of salt, good fat and sweetness is delicious :)

A natural diet, two small kids and an underlying addiction to chocolate!

One of the rather large obstacles with genuinely following through with this Earth Mother diet is children - I don't see too many kids running around the playground with kale chips, spinach wraps and grilled fish for lunch. They are not allowed to take nuts to school/care and for the little ones I think there is some leniency required by us parents to understand that their palettes are not quite as mature nor their jaws quite so strong. Having said that I very rarely cook a separate dinner for my children - they are served what we eat but with some minor kid-friendly alterations (if required) ie. remove the chili or finely dice the bok choy/spinach (which they unfortunately choke on). The one habit I'm really determined for them not to adopt is my psychological need to 'round out' lunch and dinner with something sweet. It is 100% an absolute HABIT - a psychological need that I've turned into a physiological necessity (or maybe it's the other way around?) which is SO difficult to break. So my kids now know - there's no dessert at our house...they can have it at Nan & Granddad's (most Tuesday nights). Overlaying all of this has to be some pragmatism...it seems wrong to me to have a low-carb or no dairy diet for children (unless there are allergies) and birthday parties are no fun if you're the child crying in the corner because you're not allowed cake. The newly introduced healthy eating pyramid is a great guide: http://www.nutritionaustralia.org/national/resource/healthy-living-pyramid

The three things I'm doing to help the family eat well are:

1. Hide - my kids happily eat spinach, celery, watercress or anything green if it's pulverised in a blender with a handful of frozen berries, a tablespoon of rice malt syrup and some milk (or OJ if you're a bit over the dairy). We have fun turning the drinks green or red or yellow (banana).

2. Slow Cook - the traditional roast, pulled pork, lamb shanks, paprika chicken...it's all so much easier to chew if it's been in the slow cooker (not to mention the fact you can add carrot, celery, tomatoes and yummy herbs to the sauces)

3. Make my own snacks - this has been a major hit and miss for me! I've tried:
a) 85% dark chocolate and zucchini brownies - too bitter for the kids, OK for the adults...the lack of sugar takes some getting use to
b) roasted nuts - too hard for the kids but yummy for the adults
c) my own muesli bars - moderate success with the kids but again quite good for the adults
d) coconut cream and mango ice-creams - pretty good
e) dipping fingers (carrots, celery, zucchini) with hummus or cream cheese - my daughter just shovels the dip in without taking a bite of any of the fingers!
f) Of course a piece of fruit is quick, convenient and usually consumed (particularly apples in our house!)

Would love to hear other people's ideas on snacks...any winners in your house?

Monday 1 June 2015

The Cure Cancer regime - is this getting the balance right or are we a slave to a different tune?

The overhaul of my health begins with the primary pillars of Diet, Meditation, Sleep and Supplements;

The diet:
* NO Refined Sugar
* NO Dairy
* NO Grains
* NO Soy
* NO Fried foods

A typical day will consist of:
Breakfast = 2 serves of fruit plus 2 eggs poached, steamed spinach, grilled mushrooms or tomatoes
Mid-morning = handful of almonds or walnuts plus a serve of fruit
Lunch = 150gms protein and 3 cups fresh salad with avocado
Afternoon = handful of almonds or walnuts plus a serve of fruit
Dinner = 150gms protein and 2 cups fresh salad and 2 cups cooked vegetables
Supper = Herbal tea

Drink 10 glasses of water a day

Meditation and Sleep
Meditate twice a day for 10-15 minutes
Aim for 8 hours sleep a night

Supplements
Femme Essentials
BioQ150
Cell Protect
Lipoic
Fibroplex Plus
C-Ultrascorb
Gluthathione
Calcium D-Glucarate
Note to self - must actually find out what these are before pumping them in to my body!

The likelihood of seeing these strict guidelines through with two small children, a marathon training husband, a job and generally speaking a life (!) is....well, not high. But then I think, Cancer is a fairly significant catalyst. Even if I only get half way there, it's an improvement. Oh but to say goodbye to Haigh's chocolate frogs and Lindt balls - man I hate cancer!!!

Thursday 28 May 2015

Hat #2 - Rainbow Princess

Funky Friday: Hat #2 - Rainbow Princess (made by my very clever Nan)

Friday 22 May 2015

Thursday 21 May 2015

What's chemo like?

Yesterday I was asked "what is chemo like?"....

My brain knows that it is a series of well researched drugs that attack fast growing cells. More scientifically put, chemotherapy drugs are "cytotoxics" which means poisonous (toxic) to cells (cyto), in particular they attack rapidly dividing cells (such as your hair, stomach lining, mouth-cells and cancer).

But my heart and frequently over zealous imagination see it as an X-files style black poison forced into my bloodstream to eat me from the inside out...I told you my imagination gets the better of me!! Supposedly chemo can also make you have some rather crazy dreams and it would seem I've extended this to my waking hours. My posts could get a bit boring post-chemo!

Anyways, the point is I have historically tried not to take a lot of medications. Not to say I won't take a Nurofen when needed but usually I find a heat-pack and a nanna nap do the trick. Now that I have been diagnosed with the dreaded C-bomb (keep it clean peeps) my outlook has somewhat changed. "Bring it on!" I say. If chemo reduces my chances of my cancer coming back from 20% to 10% then I authorise Scully and Mulder full access (one step too far with that?).

As to the actual treatment - chemo is all together surreal. The most painful part is inserting the IV. From there, a series of bags are hung upside down and slowly (over 3 hours) trickled in to my bloodstream. My arm gets cold and I get a little fidgety but other than that it's three hours of forced arse-sitting (an activity I'm not particularly good at unless I'm at work).

The side effects are more pronounced. Whilst they have the nausea fairly well managed these days, there is a heaviness I find difficult to describe. Perhaps the closest comparison is the lethargy you feel just before coming down with a flu. Every patient has other little "bonuses" - fried taste buds, mouth ulcers, red skin, ringing ears...the list is long and odd!

But a common side effect is the hair loss. I really thought I'd be OK with this. It felt like a small sacrifice to make to extend my life. But I'm not as confident as I'd hoped. It's such a glaringly obvious advertisement that I'm "sick". And so, like most, I hide the bald eagle. This part has actually been fun - I've had some beautiful gifts from friends and family and invested in some awesome berets, scarves and beanies. Thought I might start 'funky Friday' where I'll post a Twitter picture of the latest hat - check out @imtoobusyto (check me out being tech savvy - thanks Jonno ;)

Wednesday 20 May 2015

Dr Emmett Brown and Integrated Medicine

Introducing my Integrated Medicine (IM) Doctor, who I'll call Dr IM...

I walk into Dr IM's rooms in a trendy but not pretentious suburb. She wears a pale blue suit - tailored, slightly shiny. It's cleverly non-committal. The cut ensures professionalism, the colour is calming. She doesn't look like a doctor but she doesn't look like a taro card reader either. Mind you, if you take away the scrubs, what does a doctor look like?! She is short, shorter than me - OK, makybe I like her ;) She wears glasses that slide down her pointy nose when needed.

And then I see the hair. Anyone remember Dr Emmett Brown from Back To The Future? Imagine him, without the receding hairline, trying to brush down that mane. Just as I finished my visual assessment Dr IM asks "Why are you here?" A little taken aback I tell her about my diagnosis of Breast Cancer and my desire to find a solution that tackles it from all angels. There's an awkward silence as she scribbles some notes. I look at my husband and we both raise our eyebrows inquisitively.

Randomly back on board Dr IM starts the interrogation:
* What do you eat?
* Do you know cancer loves sugar?
* How much water do you drink?
* How much exercise do you do?
* Do you get out in the sun?
* What time do you go to bed?
* Do you sleep through?
* Do you know what meditation is?
* Are you a stressed person?
* Do you know what a saliva test is?

As I try to answer each question she interrupts me - in fact she interrupts herself regularly as well. Her staccato style conversation has both my husband and I hiding our smiles. At some points she gets so excited she runs over to an 8ft book shelf. On the shelves are hundreds of handouts and photocopies. She snaps up certain papers, clicks her tongue in disapproval, keeps burrowing then triumphantly throws some handouts in my lap.

At the end of our hour together I'm exhausted and Dr IM is chatting away happily about how she eats fish and a cup of seasonal vegetables for dinner EVERY night. "Don't you get bored?!" I ask. "It's just food" she says and there in lies one (of a few) fundamental differences I sense we have.

I leave her office with a new diet, a new meditation schedule, a new supplements program (8 in total [though I never actually bought them but that's a discussion for another post...]) and a new headache! I'll post these new regimes next.

Surprisingly I also leave with a new resolve to realistically challenge each aspect of my life - to make sure I'm filling the right buckets! I'm more and more convinced that busy is not happy, in fact busy is just the new black and it's helping no-one, particularly not me.

Sunday 10 May 2015

Meditation - attempt number one!

Although mindfulness has recently found its way into Western trends it is, of course, an ancient practice for many Eastern philosophies. So with thousands of years of endorsement (and because my Integrated Medicine Dr told me to) I thought I'd give it a crack...

The book I'm attempting to read at the moment tells me to perform a 'simple' body scan as an introductory exercise in being present. The steps go something like this:
1. Find a comfortable position
2. Feel your breath as it moves in and out of your body
3. Sense the natural rise & fall (place your hands on your abdomen if it helps)
4. Direct your awareness to your feet - notice temperature, feel the contact between your toes, explore sensations
5. Extend the awareness through your ankles, lower legs etc etc
6. Notice what is present, remember the breathing and come back to it if your mind wanders
7. Stay with this awareness of your whole body for as long as you want to

How did my first attempt go? Something like this:
The children are in bed and hubby's downstairs watching the footy. I sit cross legged on our bedroom floor. The room is nice and warm and I have a lovely full belly from our first Paleo dinner (but that's another story!).

I take a deep breath in and feel the air fill my hungry lungs. As I exhale I notice the heat of my breath and holy cr@p did I leave the oven on? I quickly rush downstairs and see the oven is safely off.

Back in position. Breath is strong and clear. I shift my attention to the soles of my feet and wriggle my toes. They feel warm and content in my fluffy winter socks. As I stretch my calves and release the tension in my knees I try desperately to ignore a strange rustling sound.

OK, back to the knees. I flap my crossed legs up and down and smile as my butt grimaces at having to work. I move my concentration up to my back and feel a genuine release in tension. Hey, maybe this thing works! But damn that rustling. I'll just quickly check it out...

I soon find the culprit - my 4 1/2 year old son has got himself out of bed to do a poo.
"Hey Mum" he smiles "I woke myself up to go to the loo!" he says proudly
"Awesome buddy" what more can I say?
He whips the toilet paper out from behind him to examine it and in the process flicks poo down the wall and on the floor.
"Oops, not quite clean" he says sheepishly as another rain-forest gets cut down to wipe the remainder of his butt.
"Easy on the toilet paper mate. Can I help?"

We clean up and I tuck him in to bed. He's asleep before I leave the room - such innocence, such contentment

I sit down once more, cross my legs and put my hands gently on my knees - palms up.

I take a big breath in and...realise I have sh!t on my sleeve.