This week has been a blur.

This week has been a blur. I have had more visitors, calls, emails and messages than I have had in months. I feel so special. I still prefer the blog because I get tired going through the same stories all the time. Many friends from out of town want to fly out and visit. These are people I have known for decades so I struggle to fit them in and give each a chance to just be here. My big brother and sister are flying in on Monday until Saturday and they will be the last guests who actually stay with us until a time might come again where either MrD or I can cope. The day after they leave we have booked flights back to Manila. I need to settle my legal affairs, talk to our staff and face MrD’s family with the news because he has been unable to go into the real details over the phone.
My doctor told me if I needed to do this trip it should be now and make it short.
I have gotten new medicines for the pain and stress so I have had some better sleep time.
The nutritional three week cleansing has moved into the last phase of the vegetable protein stage and I hear rumours from MrD that next week I will be allowed to have some small amounts of dead animals. I can hardly wait.
Cancer Rocks but in truth, this week I have had to dig a little deeper to feel that side of this adventure.
MrD is really at his end of all the care he can give and we are interviewing home help for when we return.
Our newly designed upstairs wardrobes arrive and were installed Thursday to oohs and aahs. If our luck holds the bed we ordered last month before all this struck should be delivered on Saturday so my family doesn’t have to sleep on the floors.
The palliative care people have been here the most figuring ways to make my life at home easier so they have installed special air cushioned bed pads, a pole to help me get out of bed easier, or practice my pole dancing, a toilet seat with arms to get up and down on, a shower seat for the time down the road when I need to sit and rinse and maybe the hardest to accept but pretty cool, is my new black padded wheel chair. They adjusted everything to fit it too my body but it may be a bit before I can fit my mind around it. I thought of journeys out wearing big hats or even veils but everyone would know it was the Trophy H right away.
Everyone have a grand week. I sure plan to have a great one.

MrD signs up the Trophy H for a cleanse.

Wow. My week went by with not a dull moment. I promised MrD to fight this disease. Last week was all about stuffing your face with fat and sugar but MrD a hired private nutritionist for some alternative cancer healing.
She has me on a three week cleansing program. The first five days of my cleanse, I have no protein. I drink brewed, juiced and stewed powders at strange and non flattering times of the early morning late evening. MrD loves to play the disciplinarian. I keep a stiff upper lip with the food.
As my reward for surviving the first 5 days and for being able to introduce protein to my meals, I invited MrD, MsB (the nutritionist) out to dine at one of MsB’s favourite restaurants.
Trophy H slips in a complimentary restaurant review “East Meets East” is a South East Asian popular restaurant on West Broadway here in Vancouver. Our party of three arrived at 6:30 without a reservation but their friendly staff found us a table after a short wait. The owner was offering small cups of their delicious chai variations. My soy milk chai spice tea both soothed the pallet and warmed it up for the food. I love when a restaurant takes time to welcome you in a special way.
The three of us each ordered a Tali tasting plate. I chose the wild salmon in a sauce that was mango, but might have been pineapple. My sauce turned out to be not worth remembering. And I would have to mention, my silent reader, that the salmon was overcooked. I loved my dahl, but couldn’t find any cucumber flavour in the raita. My portion of aloo gobi was sadly a little over done. But everything was forgiven. I was out and about. The place was noisy and I was burping protein. I was with MrD and MsB who showed me all week that they were fighting this disease. I had nothing to complain about. Cancer Rocks.
I got some much craved protein introduced into my diet after the 5th day. I got to eat small chunks of my best beloved potato, one of the outlawed veggies in the first act of this 3 week program. MsB comes to our humble abode to demonstrate how to cook the meals, give us tips and answer our many questions. It’s been a while since I sat on a chair in my kitchen, watching someone show me how to cook. I got to eat rice pasta with tomatoes. This period of not being able to eat, what has become part of my life over the years, somehow allowed me to appreciate taste and texture all over again when they were introduced back into my diet.
A soft boiled egg for breakfast was what I craved most so I did a simple rice and egg breakfast. Here is how to make your own. We must concentrate on the ritual of boiling these liquid chickens. The eggs must be boiled for exactly 3 minutes. Take a spoon and recover the eggs from the boiling water to stop the cooking process. Run them under some cold water to cool our lovelies enough to handle.
Heat a little precooked white basmati rice. The eggs get a proper whack with a knife and their golden hearts lavishly oozed over the warm rice. A good grind of course black pepper kissed with a baby pinch of your favourite salt. I would have loved a splash of chopped scallions on top for colour and crunch but we were out.
Each bite will seem better than the last.
So, my silent reader, go hug your brother. I plan to update every Saturday as long as I am up for it.

My cancer opens a whole new door.

Well it has been a week of Cancer Rocks. I am learning so much during this process. The support of family, friends and acquaintances has been overwhelming, touching and encouraging.
I had my first appointment with the oncologist on Thursday this week at the British Columbia Cancer Agency. My doctor, Sharlene Gill, is not only a senior caregiver but also associate professor of medicine at the University of British Columbia. She knows what she is talking about and puts all the information out to me in ways I can understand and absorb.
She recommended chemo and planed to admit me on Monday for the first treatment so they can monitor my side effects. The other treatments would be as an outpatient.
But, and here comes the hard part, my silent reader, she said the chemo could only hope to enhance the quality of my life because at this stage of my cancer there was no hope for a cure. Here prognosis is she thinks I have 3-4 months to live.
Friday I spoke to her on the phone and we have agreed to postpone the chemo but I have since decided not to have chemo. There is no hope for a cure and I feel too week. I have already registered with palliative care. I have not given up, but given in to the cancer.
MrD is busy with his alternative treatments for me and we will go from here.

On the lighter side, my silent reader, having cancer has opened up a whole new world.
A few examples are.

You can once again fit into any of your old clothes.

You attend a social meet up where home made pastry is included. You are sure to get offered the choice of leftovers.

Your spouse cuts way back on your “to do” list.

After all these years of saying no because it is fattening, you are encouraged to eat the crispy brown chicken skin.

You need not pass up on the desert.

It is fun to pretend there is a friendly alien hiding in you guts.

Sometimes it feels important to take a day off away from people stuffing you full of healthy food. It just reminds you that you are ill.

Folks want to take you out for lunch more and most insist on paying the bill.

Being on this “get fat” diet means you get to eat food you had deprived yourself. I ate poutine for the first time in ten years.

You get appointments to meet new people in new places you have never been.

You take time to stop and smell the roses.

Cancer Rocks

One whole week has passed, my silent reader, since the news of the Trophy H and “The Big C”. It has been a most amazing time where old friends,lovers and relatives have made an effort to get in touch by phone, email or Face Book. They all sent their greetings, prayers and best wishes for my battle with cancer and we got a chance to catch up a bit on what was happening in their lives.
I still have not seen an oncologist. My first meeting at Vancouver Cancer Center is this Thursday. I was not informed at the time whether I should come prepared with an overnight bag so I am assuming it will be just a meet and greet with the specialist in charge of my case. She will give me her expert opinion and hopefully we will get started on path to treatment. Vancouver Cancer Center is one of the few hospitals in the world that offer alternative forms of cancer treatment separately or in conjunction with chemo or radiology. I have my skinny fingers crossed for a couple of weeks of say maybe, shopping therapy?
I have managed to put on some of the weight I lost while in hospital doing all the tests leading up to all this. MrD must get full credit for this. He has been working overload, running the empire and shopping and cooking. He is constantly bringing me smoothies or snacks and watches over me to insure I consume everything. Now I don’t look so much like a ghoul. I make little forays outside to get some exercise and have developed my own style of walking slowly, like I am contemplating life, rather that just too ill to walk faster.
I am learning new things every day. I am learning to let go of some control, ask for help when I need it and sharpen my sense of humour. Today I am particularly grateful because I am celebrating 6 months of sobriety.

Happy New Year from MrD and the Trophy H

Happy New Year from MrD and the Trophy H. This last year has been a lot of
giggles for me writing this tongue in cheek blog to dish some dirt, present some tasty food ideas, give a few travel tips and hopefully add a smile or a chuckle or two to your day.
This year, my silent reader, I am changing topics and heading into more exciting waters.
There is no great way to get this news out there but here goes for trying.
Four days before Christmas I was diagnosed with colon cancer that has spread to my
liver. How cool is that? Cancer Rocks!
I had been in hospital for a week and a half getting fast tracked through a lot of tests. Some of those tests involving chemically emptied colons and live cameras on site in places that should never be visited by operating rooms full of people one does not know. A wee bit nasty and uncomfortable.
I haven't been a patient in hospital since I was in my mid twenties, having my nose done. It took more time getting used to strangers walking in at all hours with
concerned professional smiles wanting to stick long sharp needles in my arms or take my temperature and blood pressure for the hundredth time.
December 20, I got the official reports after a conference with the medical
Team. I was given a discharge and sent home with MrD to celebrate the holidays.
MrD has been a pillar of strength and support through all this but when he heard the “Big C” word he collapsed. In the Philippines, where he grew up, there were and still are relatively fewer survivors. In MrD’s head he was already picking out a good blue suit and a box.
Because it was the holiday season there was no way they could get me into the Cancer
Center until January. I have since been notified that my first appointment is January13. In the mean time my goal is to get my strength back after that barrage of invasive testing. I lost a lot of weight I need to put back on my bones. I will need some reserves to combat the chemo treatments.
A recent report comparing six first world countries found that Canada rated tops in cancer survivors and British Columbia ranked the highest in the land. I have every right to feel optimistic.
You might recall, my silent reader, I always maintain a positive outlook on life and a sense of humour to get me through tough times. I am in great spirits and ready for a fabulous new year. None of us know the future. Often what we perceive to be horrible devastating news turns out down the road to be one of the best things that ever happened to us.
The only sad part is right now I will not be able to spend time back at our home in Asia, getting massages on the beach while I suck back fresh local mango and banana shakes.
That will be something to look forward to down the long and winding road.

Do's and Don'ts of partner squabbling.

People love it when Trophy H’s have a bad day. Everyone thinks oh boy this guy is funny enough to laugh himself over to tomorrow. Little people like to see the myths and giants, if not fall flat, then at least bent out of shape by the wind.
Trophy H’s have really bad days.
We have real fights with our partner that is not stage material.
Here is how I have dealt with some of mine.
Trophy H’s make lousy fighters. We want to make jokes so the angry person being silently mean to you from another room or on the phone from another time zone in another country will return from ugly land. Is your squabble happening with text or real talk, or is your partner right there standing in front of Glee or your favourite hockey game, which ever daddy programming turns your crank.
One thing you attempt to never do when you are having a bad fight with your partner is to laugh. They sometimes take laughter too personal during fights.
There is no good time to laugh. Not while they are staring you in the eye shaking the scissors and a handful of your more favourable credit cards.
Jokes are wasted and unwise during any bitterness or tension in the room.
Jokes tend to either go right over their head when they are cussing out your sorry ass. They for sure will only make you laugh, but not them.
“Hey you are not really angry with me darlink. You are just taking this opportunity to express your inner ugly.” Seriously don’t try this at home, my silent reader.
No way. Real men know how to win and get back to the TV. They understand the bigger picture. We know to keep our eyes not on the TV, at least during the commercials, but at those angry eyes. We nod our head up and down like those made in China neck wobbling car dogs you buy from Canadian Tire. Ok here the trophy H must make a confession. I have never owned a head nodding dog or a dashboard on which to put one.
No helpful interventions or comments. This would not be a good time to mention, and for their own good really, “Now pumpkin. Screwing up your eyes like that does not improve your advancing wrinkle war. The smile and frown all happens down below the ice line.”

Trophy H tips #459863. Become a skilled head nodder. Casually vary the speed of the nod to make it appear sincere.
Trophy H tips # 45697. Listen to what they are telling you without just pretending to listen while you make up your rebuttal in your cutting fashion.
The beauty of being the Trophy H of MrD is we really don’t have fights like this anymore. We worked threw a lot of shit in the first 5 years of this 15 year tour we are on together. And he has never been foolish enough to pull the money card during an argument. He is impeccably trained. Now when he has been bad or nasty or harsh or just plain honest and he sees I have been hurt by his action or words. He has an old saying that brings us back to reality. “15 years and my husband is not used to me yet.”
Trophy H tip #5768 Never go to bed to sleep when you are angry and never let them sleep while you are angry.

The holiday in Hell.

Thanksgiving has always been one of the few family holidays that I enjoy. There seems to be less hysterical drama and just fun times eating lovely traditional foods with family and friends.
Last year about this time my uncle and aunt, MrG and MsC suggested that they fly out from their nest in Northern Ontario, we pick up his sister in North Vancouver, and the 5 of us spend the holiday weekend in the beautiful surroundings of Terrace Beach Resort in the wilds of Ucluelet on the far side of Vancouver Island. Because I am the Trophy H and I did have a year to prepare I happily agreed and started making reservations. The resort was built by Jason Priestly of Hollywood 90210 fame and I managed to reserve the biggest cabin assuming that that would be the one Jason stayed in when he was home. It had three floors of lovely wooden luxury with large outdoor decks, Jacuzzis, fireplaces and a well designed and equipped kitchen for me to wow our guests with my special brunches, lunches and dinners.
My uncle and aunt used their carefully gathered air mile points to book their return tickets. His sister got the weekend off and MrD agreed to come with us because the resort promised Internet connection so he could run the empire while we all sat and chatted or went for long walks in the stunning natural surroundings.
That was what should have happened. This is what did happen.
Things went smoothly in the beginning. My uncle’s sister uses a cane and has some difficulty getting in and out of vehicles but with me carrying the extra luggage we managed to get on board at the early hour and made our ferry connection to the island.
From Departure Bay at Nanaimo to the resort in Ucluelet it rained the whole way so we did not get a chance to enjoy the scenery. We did stop at the giant Douglas fir forest called the Cathedral Trees for a stretch and a drippy camera opportunity. The trip took about 4 hours but we made it seem fun.
At the check in we found out that the cabin I had reserved there was no Internet connection because of the building materials used in the walls. MrD was not amused and made it known that I was responsible. Okay. I had to rent an extra cabin that did have Internet connection and I just whipped out the credit card with a non existent smile.
I got the keys and managed to get my guests safely to their rooms. It was raining the whole time. The resort is built into a rain forest with walkways and stairs. The lady with the cane made it all the way. The biggest cabin was the farthest from the entrance with the most privacy.
I put away all the food supplies I had brought from Granville Island Market, ran back to MrD’s new cabin to check up that he managed to connect and I dropped off my own bag.
I returned to accompany my uncle to the next town in the rental van so we could pick up some milk they wanted for their breakfast tea.
On the way to the van from the cabin we were passed on the walkway by a family with small children. My uncle and I stepped aside to let them pass and he slipped and fell. My uncle could not move or get up. I alerted my aunt about the accident. Someone got the message to the staff in the office. They called 911 and about 45 minutes later the ambulance arrived. All this time the rain never let up. We had blankets keeping my uncle warm and a sheet of plastic covering him to try and keep him as comfortable as possible.
The ambulance attendants assessed the situation. They put a pillow splint on his broken leg. We managed to get him lifted into a stretcher chair and all strapped in. Then we had to get him off the walkway, through the bush along a gravel trail and into the ambulance for the 40 kilometre ride to the nearest hospital in Tofino. All this happened in the rain.
My uncle was the only person insured to drive the rental van so my aunt needed to contact the rental company before we could follow the ambulance to the hospital. Many phone calls later and after heated chats with operators working in Delhi, India, we just gave up, said just make a note and off we drove uninsured to the hospital emergency rooms.
There was of course a lengthy waiting time before some one came out and explained the situation to us. My uncle’s leg was indeed broken in two places, below the knee and above the ankle. He would need an operation that could not be done at the small hospital in Tofino so in the morning the ambulance would have to transport him to the bigger hospital in Nanaimo, the city where we had arrived by ferry that was 4 hours away.
Okay.
This meant that we would have to pack up all our things at the resort, forfeit the prepaid two nights for the two rooms, drive the 4 hours to Nanaimo, rent two more rooms.
Okay.
The staff and owner of the resort were in top form and concern for us all along this ordeal and when I checked us out the next morning the owner assured me that all charges for our rooms for both nights would be cancelled and I was to keep him informed about my uncle’s progress.
We found the hospital in Nanaimo, I got us nice rooms at a hotel near the harbour and we managed to find some turkey dinner specials at a mediocre restaurant chain.
The next morning when we returned to the hospital we found out that if they did operate on my uncle there then he would have to remain in Nanaimo for about two weeks for the follow up. This was not an option so they put a temporary cast on his injured leg. My uncle needed three different medicines and a new pair of crutches. This being the holiday weekend some pharmacies were closed and after a wild goose chase in a city I was not familiar with we managed to visit 3 pharmacies and get all we needed.
MrD and the lady with the cane wanted to return to the city so we got them out of the way and on their way before my aunt and I started the ordeal of getting my injured uncle out of the hospital, into the van, get the van onto the crowded holiday ferry and back to Vancouver. We had to line up at the ferry docks because our reservation we had made was not valid for the time we got my uncle to the docks. We had to wait for 4 ½ hours to get onto a boat. My uncle could not leave the van. I won’t go into details about how he remained comfortable but those urinals the drugstore sells really come in handy.
Finally late at night we returned from our holiday to our condo in Vancouver and we managed to get my exhausted aunt and uncle upstairs and into bed so they could get some rest before the ordeal of flying home the next morning.
In the morning MrD and I got my uncle back in the van with my aunt and their entire luggage. We went with them to the airport. My uncle had to purchase a new ticket on business class because he could not fit in his economy seat with the giant leg cast.
Finally we said good bye to our despondent relatives at security and the airline handlers wheeled my uncle away with my aunt following along waving good bye.
I breathed a giant sigh of relief I did not know I needed. The stress had just built up inside and I spent the rest of the day in a daze.
Yes it was the holiday in Hell but in spite of everything we managed to keep our cool and bond in ways we surely had not planned.
Still it might have been fun to have just had a boring weekend with a book and some pate the way we had planned but the Trophy H, my silent reader, thankfully even at Thanksgiving, knows how to adapt.