Guess What...I have Hodgkin's!
Thank you, M.D. Anderson. Just in case we weren't entirely clear, their second opinion came back last week and, aside from not stating very much else, it did indeed confirm that I have Hodgkin's. It would have been a real kick in the ass to find out I was working this whole cancer gig for nothing. While "underwhelming" to say the least, we are making progress with other centres including Dana-Farber in Boston and McGill in Quebec.
In the meantime, I've been doing everything I possibly can to help my body heal. It's been interesting these past couple of years - this week marks two years since my initial diagnosis - as I feel like I'm doing enough to aid my mind and body in the recovery process, and then I will read or hear something that propels me to do more. As a result, I have learned how important it is to not beat myself up for not doing everything, every single moment of every single day (is this largely a Capricorn tendency?)
Still, not one to be complacent, my latest venture has been into raw foods and juicing. Last week, we purchased a Breville Juice Fountain Elite. This thing is a Cadillac among Yugos in the world of juicing. I am very pleased with the concoctions I have made so far and have seriously upped my beet intake (I can't remember the last time I ate one, but now I'm drinking them everyday). You know what that means...
This "tidying" up of my eating habits also has me investigating the wonderful world of colonics. I know. Ick. Bleck. I seriously run the risk of becoming one of those people who discusses the "results" of their weekly sessions inappropriately during social occasions. On the other hand, my innate squeamishness and seeming inability not to make gross noises when the word "colonics" comes up has me thinking I am very immature.
Something really did strike me funny though in my new pursuit of a colonic "therapist." I was reading the health pages of a local publication and came across the listing for a colonic hyrdotherapy centre in Vancouver called "Exodus." Really. I can't help but hum Bob Marley's tune by the same name. Movement for ja people, indeed; and other things, apparently.
Speaking of things that end with "us," I was driving through Gastown the other day and noticed a new high-rise development. As I am always amused by the self-important, anthropomorphic names given to condominiums, such as "George" on Richards Street, or the newly-appointed "Evelyn" in West Vancouver, and how they could go for cocktails with "Sophia" in Mount Pleasant or "Olive" in Yaletown (but certainly not uncouth "Jasmine" on East Hastings), you can imagine my nearly driving off the road when I saw "Terminus - the end is here" on Water Street. Woops. Someone wasn't thinking.
He's certainly not going to be the popular kid on the block.