Hurting

Right now I am hurting and missing my mom more than ever. I have so much to do, but I am physically hurting, my chest and stomach have clenched from the emotions, and all I can think about is this hurt. I can't even just crawl into bed because I started changing the sheets this morning to do some laundry before I went to the university and it's completely stripped. This is the most I've hurt probably since last December. Perhaps I'm making more out of this anniversary coming up then I should, but it's just hurting so much. Right now it basically feels like it's only been a day or two, and a lifetime at the same time.

Happy Reformation Day

Given that the Reformation has more influence on my life than Halloween, that is what I am privately celebrating. In my heart, I am crying, crying, crying because I am aching remembering what October 31st was like last year. I let my dad go to church in the morning, I went over to the hospital and sat in the recliner chair beside my mom, who was unresponsive, except for some pain sounds from time to time. That was the day that one of the nurses asked if she was my grandma. My mom might not have been able to respond, but she was definitely awake to hear it, and I felt so awful as I said that no, she was my mom. Later that day, probably around 7 in the evening, another nurse asked why I wasn't out Trick or Treating. I answered back that I was 20 (I do not look my age, being 4'9 and having a young looking face), but did not put the second part, which was that my mom was incredibly close to death, and even if I HAD been young enough to be out trick or treating, I most definitely would not have been because she was dying.

The past couple of days have been very hard in terms of missing my mom. I listened to a song on my MP3 player this morning, called "Love you out loud". It was written by a mother to honour her young song, who died of ALL (acute lymphoblastic leukemia) at the age of 5. Although the context is a little different, the basic message is applicable to so many. If I had known the time was so short, I would have done...(fill in the blank). Well, that got me thinking to the relationship I had with my mom, and I came up with similar words...

If I had known you'd leave me so soon
Way before those much talked about grandchildren
I would have let you hug me more often
And I would have hugged you too
I would have helped out more
Just to spend time with you
My theory assignments could have been done
On some other day
I would have spent more sunday afternoons with you
When you came home from work
I would have taken a break
From the polynomials, Gregorian chant, Bizet, or MacGamut
Just to hear about your day
I would have said "I love you" a lot more
And closed my door less
Asked about your childhood
And the generations past
Asked about my childhood
And the funny things I did
I can't anymore.
Life isn't always fair
And it wasn't fair here
But maybe, things can be different

I'll say "I love you" more often
And thank you as well
Take the time to know others better
And show that I care
Be grateful for each day
And always remember
That it is a blessing
And can instantly change.


What everyone says about feeling selfish and wanting their loved one back despite the pain, yeah, I'm feeling that right now. To be able to hear my mom's voice again, and have her hug me. I miss her so much right now.

For an essay written at the last second (literally)

One of the assignments due during the last two weeks was a short essay for Research Methods. It was, literally, done at the last second. I sent it in at 11:59pm the day it was due. I had both procrastinated and not carefully read the assignment requirements. I ended up writing the essay in the space of about 3 hours (it was a 2-page max essay). I was fortunate enough that the original topic I had chosen was able to be turned into the topic I was supposed to have. I had done my research for the topic 'The development of the Boehm flute'. It turns out that the topic was limited to program notes, biographical, composition analysis, or source analysis. Well, my topic was not one of those choices! I was fortunate that I could take the biographical approach of focusing on the development of the flute and instead write a biographical analysis of Theobald Boehm. I felt like it was just about the most horrible piece of writing I had ever done. I was fearing failure, expecting at most a mark in the 60% range. So, I feel incredibly lucky to find out tonight that I received I mark of 84%. Not quite my usual standard, but not bad for a last-minute, last-minute topic change paper.

So, the essay didn't go so badly. The 20th Century midterm exam however, is a different story. It was, literally, THE WORST TEST OR EXAM I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. I broke down after it, and I can say that I don't think one single person in my class felt even okay with it, let alone good about it. In all honesty, if our 20th Century professor was found murdered, they would have to consider all of us as suspects. It was miserable-the history parts of the exam were on topics that were not emphasized during the exam review, the exam was too long for completion in an hour, and one of the questions was a typo that left all of us searching for the answer and not finding it! Overall, it was an incredibly dreadful experience, one that I DO NOT wish to repeat again.

This week is another busy week, I have a test in Research Methods on citations on tuesday, an essay proposal due for friday for 20th Century, and then the Carmina Burana performance coming up next sunday (which means an extra rehearsal on saturday). In the midst of school, I then have the looming experience of last year at this time always following me. Friday when I broke down about the exam, it wasn't just because of the exam...it was, well, everything. I miss my mom, I miss how the house felt with more people in it, even though I am a private type of person and like my space. I guess I just miss how things were, for better or for worse. I feel guilty sometimes when I say that in some ways, some things are better, and not just in the not-dealing-with-cancer aspect. For instance, me cutting way back on meat, I'm sure that my mom would never have let me do that (I'm planning on starting to cook entirely for myself next weekend). Overall though, nothing will ever replace those good times. I can't believe it's been more than a year since the good times. In just over a week, it will be a year without her. I can't believe that it's been two years since we began seeing cancer in a different light. The calender may have marked my adulthood as July 3rd 2008, but it really began in November of 2009, when my mom was diagnosed.

Crisis to crisis...

That is unfortunately how I have been living the past few weeks. By crisis, I am fortunately referring to exams, essays, assignments, coachings, classes (the ones I teach). My scheduling and intentions have not developed into complete results, so I am going to have to take more dramatic measures! The first is that this weekend is catch-up weekend. Catch up meaning get caught up on ALL the readings for Opera History and 20th Century, and get the journals done for tuesday's Research Methods class. It means really considering what I am thinking about writing my essay for 20th Century on and beginning some research on that if possible (even if it is just textbook research). It means writing my Cadenza for Mozart D major concerto for my lesson on monday (actually, that's the cool part). It means practising the piano...actually practising. It means getting the sheets that I was supposed to get out to people (including Sunrise registration forms) OUT to them. And, it means getting back on my schedule and following through. I have decided that starting November 1st, I will not watch any television or videos (this is including my recent near-obsession with Victor Borge videos on youtube) until after December 15th, when I write my final exam. It means disciplining myself so that I'm not wasting so much time on various things, like hour-long lunches in the lounge (which, given everything, is not the healthiest place to be physically. Mentally, it's a good place to be for a little while because I laugh, talk with friends, and destress...but a little goes a long way). I can still salvage the term with good grades (given that they haven't been bad so far, just not quite as high as my normals and I'm definitely feeling behind), but I have to buckle down NOW and start being completely focused. I decided that I was ready for the greater workload this year, and I am now responsible for handling it. Yes, for the next few days it's going to mean continuing getting less sleep, but the rewards will be worth it.

Crisis to crisis living has meant numerous things...one, nothing feels completed to the best of my ability. Two, I am not sleeping enough. Three, I am not eating very well, and have lost about 5 or 6 pounds, which I should NOT have done (this has invoked new feelings in the ED department because once it starts it is a nearly insatiable desire to lose more). Four, I can't enjoy things as much. Five, I am not being the best teacher I can be when I am not as well-prepared. Six, well, I'm sure there's a million other reasons to stop living crisis to crisis.

I'm sure that remembering how difficult last October was is not helping, but as my new note-card-in-sparkly-marker up on my wall says, "There are no acceptable excuses". Others say things like "Nothing is ever as hard or as awkward as I fear it will be" (pretty much the only exception is when it comes to eating), "Just DO IT (already)", "Getting started is the hardest part", "Procrastination is the barrier to success. Starting on time is the bridge to success", "You don't have to start at a standard start time-you just have to start" (this is due to my perfectionist habit of having to start at 7 or 7:30 and not being great at starting at 7:07 or 7:39 etc etc), "You have the ability and the experience, so just settle down and do what you know you can do". I have a bunch also on the dresser that is right by my music stand, including "Practise! You know you love it!", "Playing makes me HAPPY!" (it does-a lot), "Fight through fatigue-the results are worth it" (I clarify this for any musician reading this that I am talking about mental fatigue, NOT physical hand/wrist/finger/arm fatigue, of which I am very careful). It's sort of a silly thing, but it kind of puts into words what I try to tell myself mentally. Seeing it there in bright sparkly marker helps make it clearer I guess.

So, this weekend will be a busy one, but I am actually really looking forward to it. Every part of, although the most exciting part will be having dessert with some friends at a crepe restaurant on saturday. I have not seen some of them for a while, and I miss them! My many friends truly are the best.

October 17th 2010

October 17th, 2010 is a day that will forever stand in my mind. Perhaps not in date, but in the occurrences of the day. It was sunday, so my dad and I went to church in the morning. I can't remember exactly why I stayed home in the afternoon while he went up to the hospital, but I did. I do remember that I worked on cleaning out the knitting basket by the couch that day. It still felt somewhat disloyal to do so, even though it really had been a shared knitting basket for around ten years. Perhaps it was just something to do to keep my mind off things. I think I watched something on TLC while I did it, perhaps even Untold Stories of the ER. Or it might have been some MASH. Maybe it was a combination of the two. It's really not important now. It was probably around 5 or 5:30 when my dad came home. I could tell before he began to speak that things were not 'right'. I was cooking dinner, cod or salmon fillets and sweet potato French fries. I do remember that it was fish.

Things were not right, because my mom had told my dad that she was 'ready to die'. We went back over right after dinner, and I think my sister showed up too. She really did say her good-byes that night. From the way things were, and my lack of knowledge about how dying really works, I honestly believed that she was going to die during the night that night. I just felt it. I ended up cancelling everything for the next day, and talking and crying over the phone with a friend for probably close to two hours. I fell asleep after 1am with the baby afghan my mom made for me on top of my pillow.

My mom didn't die that night. The next day, we spent all day there, and our minister was there for most of the time as well. It was more than two weeks later that my mom died, but October 17th stands out because it is the day when she truly began to die. Even after the 3 months date, there had been small bits of hope, that perhaps she would improve a little bit and come home for a few weeks. After October 17th there was NO hope of ever seeing her out of the hospital bed.

October 17th to November 5th were the two and a half most difficult weeks of my life...even more challenging then my own two-week hospitalization. As October has been continuing, it has been getting harder and harder to NOT think about everything. In just over two weeks, it will be a year. Sometimes it feels like it's  been only a day, sometimes a lifetime.

All of the cancer trauma has been reinforced today by finding out that the husband of my accompanist, a wonderful trumpet player and teacher (besides just being an all-around great guy) was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I don't know what staging or type, and can only pray that it was caught very early and is the less-common type with a better prognosis (like Steve Jobs had). This past year has definitely been the year of cancer deaths in my life, from my mom, to an MYC teacher, to the president of my former youth symphony, to our former computer technician, to Jack Layton, and unfortunately, the great likelihood is that before long, I will hear about the cancer death of the above mentioned person.

My prayers tonight are definitely with my accompanist, her husband and the rest of their family-they have two (or three...) grown sons, also musicians, and several grand-children. NO ONE deserves cancer.

CANCER I HATE YOU!

Panic

The sleep-deprived and stressed brain spins things in ways that it shouldn't. A combination of several factors kind of messed me up this afternoon. I decided yesterday that I would buy my lunch today. So, at lunchtime I went and (not finding that great of options) got a chicken wrap. While my dad was away for two weeks, I pretty much did not eat any meat, and now it's a problem. One, I am even more uninterested in it then before. Two, it just doesn't work well anymore. I had about a third of the chicken wrap, and it wasn't very good. For some reason, perhaps it was before wind ensemble I began thinking back to my friend and fellow Wind Ensemble colleague's unfortunate bout of food poisoning on our over-nighter trip back home in May. Combined with my minor feelings of discomfort from having eaten the chicken wrap, and then with my sleep-deprived brain, it began spinning into my feeling more ill then I was (which was basically not at all). Physically, it really did make me feel ill, and together this led to a panic-induced nausea wave. Or, at least what felt like nausea. Right at the end of our performance of Carmina Burana for some guest high school students (it was a sit-in, listen, play along interactive concert for them). Either way, feeling that, I just suddenly had to GET OUT OF THERE. Once out of the hall I realized that it wasn't anything physical, it was basically a panic-attack I had induced. The crazy heart rate was what clued me in. I felt pretty stupid overall, but you can only judge how you feel in the moment, and it's not like I've ever done that before. Let's just say that this whole incident has made me feel several ways...one, thankful that it wasn't food poisoning (of course!), two, thankful that my flute friends and conductor were quite concerned when I got back in making sure that I was okay. Three, even more turned off by meat (and I'm definitely never getting a sandwich or wrap from that place in the university again). Four, it's bringing back a lot of bad memories of when panic attacks were a much more common occurrence. That was in the grade ten-twelve years, although my panic feelings about other things were definitely there when I was eleven years old(just manifested themselves in other neurotic ways). With the anxiety/panic, one of the things that I got terrified about was nausea. Yeah, pretty silly, especially as I have never been in a position where it was frequent or anything like that. But, for some reason, that's one thing my brain decided to develop severe anxiety against when I was about 15. I had to sit near exits because I never wanted to be in a position where I couldn't leave quickly. When I was finishing grade eleven, I decided that I would start on Prozac (bad decision) because I was frustrated at not being able to sit in class well from this anxiety. Unfortunately, before it had even hit a therapeutic dose level, it was increasing my anxiety! I was having to leave classes frequently and it just wasn't working. So, today's incident brought back all those bad memories.

What this has taught me is that I'm going to have to see my dietician and discuss going mostly vegetarian. I realize that I need to do it correctly...in amongst the stress of the past week or so, I found out that I had lost four pounds. Whoops. The issue is that when something like that happens it completely makes me want to lose more. Such is the way the brain of someone with an eating disorder works...

Thankful...

Despite the extreme amount of stress that I am under for this coming week-my first set of journals for Research Methods, my first paper for research methods, a mammoth 20th century assignment, Opera History midterm and Wind Ensemble concert are all this week-I am thankful for countless things...some of them surprising

-I am thankful for the gift of music, for the gift my parents gave me of music lessons and forcing me to continue during that rough year or two, for the patient and wonderful teachers I have had in music over the years, for the numerous opportunities I have had to perform, for the experience of honour bands, national bands, international music camp, music festivals etc...for the chance to go to Music School, and for the wonderful career I now have teaching the very program that started my musical journey, Music for Young Children
-I am thankful, once again, for the caring doctors, nurses, and support staff of all kinds (chaplains, medical assistants, blood technicians etc) that cared for not only my mom, but the rest of my family when we walked, ran, were dragged through, pushed, and pulled through her cancer journey
-I am thankful for the support of friends and church members who were there for us in too many ways to count, from visiting to cooking meals, to knitting her prayer shawl, to taking my mom to a couple of appointments that my dad was unable to, to praying (very thankful on that one), for sending cards, emails, donations to the charities we listed, for showing their respect and shared grief by filling the church fuller than it has been in years at her funeral (we probably exceeded safety limits...)
-I am thankful for the love of my friends, both from my high school crew and from my Faculty of Music...and even some from before my grade seven year-all of whom showed their love and support to me when they found out. For some, they did not find out until November 2nd or shortly thereafter, others were with me from the beginning of the journey in November 2009. But each one, when they found out, somehow knew just the right way to respond, and made it known that I was not alone-despite how alone the journey often felt.
-I am thankful for the free medical care that we are blessed with in Canada. The system may have it's issues, but each and everyday I am thankful that in such great stress, we did not have to worry about medical costs. Parking, food, and things like Boost for my mom were enough to be concerned about.
-I am thankful for the amazing bunch of teachers that I share my career with. They truly go out of their way to make sure that everyone is supported every step of the way, whether it's answering questions or even providing games or other materials that they no longer need (like the entire set of critter and music alphabet stamps that one teacher gave me-it probably would have cost me at least $45 to buy them!)
-I am thankful for the amazing professors, librarians, and, of course, our wonderful secretary/administrative assistant, aka the FoM grandmother. N ALWAYS has a smile, the answer to your question (or who will have the answer), likes to know what's going on in your life, gives encouraging messages, and basically runs the FoM. What we'd do without her I do not know-and don't want to find out!
-I am thankful for the gifts of art, literature, and entertainment that help me relax. To me, one of the ways I know there is God is the vast creativity that the human brain is capable of.
-I am thankful that there is a transit system in my city that gets me where I need to go, like the university each day. It may have its problems, such as taking me an hour or more to commute, but it is generally on time and is much less expensive than driving
-I am thankful for the beauty that we call fall...including occasionally acting as a young child and crunching leaves, jumping in them etc (call it stress reduction)
-I am thankful for the construction crew that has done a very good, albeit slow, job at finishing the basement, including my music studio. It may not be done yet, but it is beautiful, and perfect.
-I am thankful that I can sleep at night, even if it is assisted by seroquel. I hope to get off of it once I am done my bachelor's degree, but we'll see. In the meantime, it ensures that I sleep, which, I have discovered, is very vital for me.
-I am thankful for the bible so that I can read about God's love
-I am thankful for the safety of living in a free, democratic and non-war-torn country, one where I have a roof over my head (that doesn't leak), food whenever I need it (even if I don't want it), and very little risk of injury or natural disaster. Where I live, there basically are no earthquakes, hurricanes, even if they could come this far in would just be a minor rainstorm, and we are waaaay too far away from the coast to get tsunamis. Blizzards and tornados are a risk, yes, but tornados are less of a risk as I am not in a rural area or on the very edge of the city.
-I am thankful that I have the ability to help a child out through Child Sponsorship. Yes, it means that I spend $40 a month that I could easily put towards other things, but not things that are more important, really. I received a letter from my little sponsored girl on friday...she is six years old, lives in Mozambique and wants to be a nurse. She asked me if there are lots of hospitals where I live. I am not quite sure how I am going to approach that question, but yes, there are lots of hospitals where I live...
-I am thankful for the 20 years I had with my mom, and the 21 years I have had so far with my dad and sister. Family may annoy, frustrate, confuse, or even enrage from time to time, but they are family.
-I am thankful that in the end, my mom did not endure a great deal of pain. I have followed many cancer stories, and read about many cancer deaths at this point, and when reading them, I am always thankful that my mom's passing was not excruciating, as is quite common with cancer deaths.
-I am thankful for my students, whom I care about deeply and want to see succeed in their music classes and in life. So far, I have had very good students and parents in terms of personality.
-I am thankful for the freedom to be Christian and not be worried about persecution and even death.
-I am thankful that my church is doing well, despite having an older-than-average population age.
-I am thankful everyday that my dad is supporting me in more ways than I can count and not forcing me out on my own while I start my career and finish university.
-I am thankful for the junior high/high school that I attended and all the amazing teachers who helped me out in so many ways.
-I am thankful for my city's orchestra, which provides me with a wonderful musical experience at least once a month.
-I am thankful for the right to vote and drive, things that we tend to take for granted that so many women are still denied.
-I am thankful for the right to dress in ways that are right for me and not be covered in such a way that I become invisible.
-I am thankful for all those appliances that make life so much easier, like washing machines, microwaves, refrigerators. We take them for granted, but then you read the World Vision catelouge and it reminds you that you are among a minority, not a majority.
-I am thankful for the gift of literacy.
-I am thankful for the varied seasons, despite the extremes.
-I am thankful for the ability to share love with others, such as knitting, teaching, and performing.

October already...

In two days, I will mark an anniversary. Not the anniversary of a death, a birth, a marriage, but of the day when it was official that my mom was dying. October 4th, 2010, we received the news from her latest CT scan that the last four rounds of chemotherapy had failed to do anything against the cancer. They gave us 2-3 months. In the end, it was less than a month's time. Last year, on October 4th, I lost hope. Being the realist I am, and the logical thinker, there had not been an abundance of hope before then, but when you love someone, you cling onto the possibility in your heart, despite what your head says. For the next month onwards, we lived in 'Crisis Mode' 24/7, spending LONG hours at the hospital, eating meals cooked by either the hospital cafeteria or by one of the greatest blessings in life, good friends and fellow church members-that is, if we ate at all, I certainly did my fair share of meal-skipping in there. I did what I called 'hospital hopping', going to the hospital early in the morning, sometimes before 8am and staying until I had to leave a couple of hours later to bus to my classes, then coming back to the hospital the minute they were finished. This would be a challenge for any student, but the fact is that my mom was in the hospital close to our house, which, on the bus, is a good hour's ride, if not more. Thanksgiving came and went without our noticing. Like this year, we had very nice weather the first week or two of October-up above 20 degrees celsius. Outside, the world was smiling, but inside, we were crying. We survived, although I don't know exactly how. I can't even count how many things I managed to knit during that time, but it was certainly a lot. In particular, I remember four specific projects that I worked on, the first was a blanket for the baby my friend had in January (the one the blue sweater was for). I remember four prayer shawls that I worked on during this time-one was the one my mom never managed to finish, plus three others. And I remember working on a blue dress for my friend's little girl (she received the pink sweater). That project never got finished. It will, someday, it is sitting in my knitting basket and will someday be enjoyed by a little girl of about two (or older...if it is my own daughter, she will probably be small like me). October 5th only emphasized the feeling of hopelessness as my grandma died that day, and none of us were able to go out (she lived across the country on the west coast).

October taught me a number of things...how much I really care about my family, despite the problems that may exist, and how much they care-and cared-about me. How many people around the Faculty of Music were there for me. That the members of my church are very good cooks (I needed some bit of humour in here). The hospital gets easier to understand when you go up to the 6th floor probably more than 100 times (my uncle joked that the hospital must have been designed by a man who used to create corn mazes). That sleep is a wonderful thing, and staying up late-2:30 or later sometimes-doesn't make me feel great (still haven't always learned that one, although it's rare to be up past 1:00 even on a weekend now). Death takes both longer and shorter than we can ever imagine. I am stronger than I thought or think I am, but it is not a sign of weakness to cry on a bus home, or feel comforted in some small way by sleeping with my baby afghan. October brings back numerous unpleasant memories as does November, and it seems very hard to believe that we are now at the 11 month mark since my mom died. Life goes on, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but always moving, and will never stop. But we should, sometimes, even in the midst of Crisis Mode, to think, to reflect, and to be grateful. Yes, I wish cancer had never happened, and I would love to have my mom back, but that won't happen. Cancer touched my family-or more to the point, pounded us with ten pound weights for more than a year (I'm counting in the healing process during the 'raw months')-and that won't ever change, but I hope it's made me a better person. I long for the day when they announce a sure-fire cure for cancer, and I pray that it comes soon. No family should have to walk a cancer journey.