What NOT to Do When You Have a Pot of Burning Oil On The Stove

I learned something new today.

What NOT to do when you have a pot of burning oil on the stove.

I thought it was a good idea at the time, as the house fire alarms were blaring, to take the smelly, burning pot of oil from the stove, outdoors.  The front porch to be exact.  Just so the black smoke was outside, rather than inside.  I put the pot down, just outside the front door, on the carpeted porch.  Then I went back inside in haste, to open all the windows and air out the house (before the Rona guy came over to ask what was on fire).

This is what happens when your kids come home from school at lunch and you are trying to multi-task.  Obviously, my multi-tasking skills need some work because I forgot about that pot of oil on the stove.  I forgot I turned it on.  After the smoke subsided, I went out the front door to get the pot from the porch.  To my horror, I realized that it was stuck, no, no that’s not quite right, it actually, MELTED  the bloody carpet.  “Sh*#$%?”, I thought.  Well, look at that.  I now have a new design on my porch.

Maybe Bobo has a nice big pot I can put over that hole I just put in there.

Or perhaps, I should invest in a REALLY BIG Welcome Mat and put it over to the side a bit…or rather to the side A LOT.

Do ya think Rona fixes outdoor carpets?

(And yes, he did clean the tub).


I Wanna Be A Shit-Disturber

expert adviceToday, I have decided that I no longer want to play nice.  I am no longer going to be a goody-two-shoes (which is what someone called me yesterday) because I feel like I’m  being taking advantage of.  This is a new thing for me…standing up for myself instead of being disgruntled and keeping anger inside.

I think I’m liking the “New Me”.

So today, when I went to Walmart and was being held hostage inside the store (this is what happens to customers who are stuck inside the store waiting desperately for the stupid store manager to come open the doors at 10:00 to let you into the mall).  I decided to do something about it.  I didn’t want to wait.

Three times I heard an announcement requesting the manager to open the large, glass sliding doors.  I saw a smaller door with a lock on it and thought, “Gee whiz, I can make my escape now if I just go over there and click it open”.  Dare I do it?  There were about 10 people waiting inside the store and about 7 people waiting outside and I REALLY wanted OUT.  So I walked up to the door, clicked it, turned around to all the people behind me and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here”.   I overhead someone saying, “I’m not staying here either”. Suddenly there was a stampede of people running through the door right behind me.

Take that WALMART.

My bad!  I like it.

I went to Toys R Us, got my gift card for Frack’s birthday party on Sunday, and made my way back through Walmart to get back to my car.  At this point I was wondering if I would be recognized by the camaras and be banned for life upon entering any Walmart store for opening their door without being an employee there.  Too bad, I thought.  Anyone stops me, I’ll give them an earful about wasting a terminally ill person’s time.

Didn’t get caught.  I was very proud of myself.  And I’m sure the other Walmart hostages were glad to get about their business too.

Then when I got home, I decided to phone the guy sent from Rona to fix up my leaky bathroom.  Told him he needed to come back to the house and do some touch ups on the work he did.  Decided to wait to tell him he was going to have to wash out the bathtub too before I sign the release form.  It’s got a white film around the tub (from the grout?).  If I have to call my house-keeper to come to the house and clean it up, it’s going to cost him 1 hour of her pay because I’m not going to do it and bust my back.  And my kids and husband shouldn’t have to clean up his mess either.  So there.

I must be on a roll.  Yesterday I fired my heart doctor.Back Together

I complained to the head of the cardiology unit (who used to be my heart doctor before they promoted him to the position of top dog).  On Thursday night, while scouring the internet for a new heart doctor, I discovered my old heart doctor became head cheese because his boss was involved in that “Orange” helicopter money scandal thing. Nice.  Decided I was going to give him an earful about how my new heart doctor is no where to be found when you need him.  Cathy told me to be nice or I’d never have a heart doctor again.

I started by telling him that he needed to be my doctor again because the new one I got was never around.  Whenever you call, you have to wait a minimum of 5 days for him to respond….and by that time, I might be dead.  Once he called me back 2 or 3 weeks later and I forgot why I called him.  So now, whenever I have a heart problem, I get my oncology nurse to phone him; but she doesn’t like phoning him either for the same reason.  I think he goes to a lot of conferences or something to learn more about people like me with heart problems due to chemotherapy.

In April my pharmacist thought it was weird that I was put on 2 heart medications and he phoned my heart doctor to question the logic of that prescription (this took several days).  When he finally got a response, the pharmacist couldn’t fill out the prescription because it didn’t have my name on it.  And the big kicker, after more phone calls and faxes, Shoppers Drug Mart finally got the prescription with my name on it but they couldn’t fill it out because the doctor didn’t sign it.  I think that whole arduous ordeal took about 4-5 weeks.

By June, I had my prescription and when I took both drugs, I had

1.  irregular heartbeats

2.  a strange cough

3.  insomnia

4.  a strange metallic taste in my mouth

5.  a loss of appetite

6.  a trip to the local E.R.  because I had severe chest pains and I thought I was having a heart attack.

And whilst sitting in the E.R., the doctor told me NEVER, EVER  to come back to this hospital with a heart problem because they didn’t know what to do with me and THEY COULDN’T FIND MY DOCTOR TO ASK HIM.  “Go downtown next time”

And then, after I get the boot, I found out that I had an appointment two weeks later with a replacement heart doctor because mine was gone until OCTOBER.

I could be dead by then.

So, I took matters into my own hands and stopped both the meds even though it said, “Don’t stop taking this medications without telling your doctor”.  Well, I can’t find my doctor…he’s in Boston.  I told his replacement, but he was rather useless because he didn’t want to advise me about anything without the other guys permission.

Needless to say, my old doctor is willing to take me back.  I’m happy.


Stupid pplOne more thing….

Someone left a note on my windshield last week informing me that I was NOT HANDICAPPED and SHOULD PAY FOR PARKING.  Getting a bit tired of people keying my car too.   So now I am leaving my own note in my car beside my handicapped parking permit.

This car belongs to ayoung 


with METAL RODS in her BACK due to a FRACTURED SPINE and CANCEROUS TUMOURS on eight bones in her vertebrae.  Try driving backwards in this condition when you can’t twist your back. Even getting out of a car hurts. Carrying groceries? That will give me pain for at least 3 days if I try. Because of numerous rounds of CHEMOTHERAPY and RADIATION treatments, I also have suffered from HEART FAILURE and have even had a TIA / STROKE because of medication I’ve been on. You don’t have to be in a wheelchair or limping to be considered handicapped. So stop being angry because I’ve got a Handicapped Parking Permit and Thank God you don’t need one. I put on a brave face, but truthfully, I’m in pain every day of my life and I’d trade spots with you any day.

Just Another Trip to the ER

Nine year old Frack came home complaining his arm hurt because he fell off the monkey bars at recess today.  Did you tell a teacher you fell?  No?  Who did you tell?  My friends.  Fat lot of good that’s going to do.  Gave him tylenol.  Still complained which is really and truly not like him.

Tried taking both of them to piano lessons at the school, but Frack wasn’t going for it.  Told his piano teacher he wouldn’t be coming tonight.  Two of the parents overheard.  Fortunately one of them was a parent of a kid I taught many years ago and she told me she would bring Frick home if I wasn’t back in time to pick her up.  Off we went.

3 1/2 hours later, Frack is sporting a splint and he’s been crying about that ever since.  Not because of the pain, but because he can’t go back on the monkey bars for a week.  The guy applying the plaster was really nice and gave him a popsicle as the tears flowed down his face.

What a num-nut.


The Best Doctor Appointment Ever

I smiled all the way to my doctors appointment today, so happy that I was okay.  This is after the scare I had after being told and reading my last MRI report that I had extensive metastatic breast cancer disease throughout all my bones (including my skull).  Who wouldn’t have thought they had one foot in the grave after that conversation?  Anyhow, I got my test results from my LTD two weeks ago and found out there was NO metastatic disease in my bone marrow.  I’ve been on a high every since.

I couldn’t wait to go to the doctor to see what he was going to say about that!  Not often you have the opportunity to be smug about being right.

As soon as he entered  the room, with a smirk on my face, I quite cheekily said,  “So WHAT is in my bone marrow?”

Dr:  Nothing?

Me:  REALLY?  Nothing?

Dr:  Alright, alright.  So you were right and I was wrong.  Not good for the ego, you know!

I just burst out laughing.  He said he was glad I was right; it was the more favourable outcome.  And the bone marrow biopsy said it was a drug ‘causing all the fuss, not cancer.

He then said,  “So tell me now what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”  I said.  “Do you care?”

“Of course, I care”.  I just want to know what you are doing so I can write it down.  How long have you been off the Capecitabine (chemo drug).

“Two weeks”, I told him.

“How did you manage to get your hemoglobin up?”, he asked after looking at todays “normal” blood test results.

“Easy”, I told him.  “I picked up the phone and called Germany and said, “Hey, ya got something to jack up my hemoglobin” and they sent me some liquid stuff.”

“What was it?”, he asked.  “Gelum”, I answered.  He rolled his eyeballs wondering what the hell I was on.  “Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”, I told him.

“How long have you been on that?”, he asked.

“Two weeks…soon as I figured out there was nothing in my bone marrow”, I answered.

“You do realize that cancer always comes back.  What are you going to do then?” he asked me.

(That wasn’t exactly a very positive thing to say, don’t you think?)

Plan A is to stay on the German medicine because it’s working and  I’m stable.  I don’t want to go on the chemo drug because it burns my feet.  Besides, my kids are sick and if I’m on chemo I have to stay away from them and everyone else who’s sick, and you trying doing that.

So the plan is, if the tumours in my back start growing again, I will revisit the option to go back on chemo, but I FEEL GREAT and I’m sticking to it because it works.

Well, at least he didn’t say I was crazy.  I think he’s watching his tongue now that I was right.  He’s just puzzled, that’s all.  Brainwashed by the FDA.  But he is a good guy and I really like him.

He told me he wasn’t going to have me go through another CT scan (organs) in November, just another MRI and we’ll go from there.  That made me happy.

thDidn’t tell him I’m going back to Germany soon to boost my immune system and for a top up of little piggy stem cells.  Decided he had enough of a shock for one day.  Hah hah!



Day 4/5 Alternative Cancer Treatment (Germany)

From my diary ( Feb. 4/5, 2014)

I saw the doctor today for my results.  Didn’t get a whole lot of explanation from him as to what kind of treatment I was going to have…he doesn’t speak english but he does speak French, German and Italian.  (yeah, yeah my italian sucks okay and I’m not about to embarrass myself…I’m sure he speaks proper Italian and I speak some crazy calabrese dialect from 50 years ago.  I understand what others are saying, but really don’t like speaking italian).  I’m glad I researched some of this alternative stuff before.  He said, ” Internet” when I asked him about the artesunat (from the wormwood plant).  A man of few words.

Cathy’s friend husband told me about this medicine that kills cancer cells…they make it here.  The doctor said, “95  percent”. I’m hoping that means it’s 95 percent effective in treating me.  Other than that, he was pretty much shaking his head saying my body has no substance ….my cell metabolism, liver, kidneys, pancreas, uric acid, nervous system, lymph system, and oxygen level….is “not goot”.

So today I had 4 injections in the ass this morning, and this afternoon I had a colon cleanse.  My tummy feels pretty good, I must say.  Every morning at 9:00, they are going to do something with my blood (oxygen), stem cell injections, and some intravenous vitamin C.  On Tuesdays/Thursdays I will be having a colon cleanse.  I need to drink about 2 liters of water a day. Pamela, the colon cleaner, is from London…she is very nice and I can speak to her in English.  All of the patients I’ve seen in the waiting room are Italian.  I overheard one of them saying that the italian doctors told her there was nothing else they can do for her.  Another guy said the doctors in Italy treat you like a bunch of dogs.  One woman has scoliosis (she looks the healthiest of the lot and has been here 3 times) and there is a young woman in a wheelchair who seriously looks like she is at deaths door.  Bobo looked around the waiting room yesterday morning and said, “I feel like we are on the “Voyage of the Damned”.  He doesn’t know what anyone is talking about in Italian, so he makes up his own stuff.  He had me stitches laughing.

The food here is pretty good and most of the shopkeepers speak some English.  We went to the Toy store today where we bought a real German-made cuckoo clock made exclusively from the Black Forest (where we are now).  It plays “Edelweiss” and another song every hour, but you have to crank it up every day manually for it to work.  Our clock has people dancing round and round at the top, and a German couple moving in the front, a mill wheel that spins, a bird that pops out towards you and a man who pops out of the chimney.  It also has 3 pinecones on chains that operate the whole thing.  It’s  quite unique and beautifully painted and handcrafted. Bobo is happy.  He found Donald Duck here too. Disney is everywhere…even in Germany.


Wednesday, Feb. 5

IMG_0782Just had my ozone therapy (2 hours) and my stem cell injection.  My one and only vein in my right arm may not last the two weeks of taking blood, and having infusions.  I’m not suppose to use my left arm for anything because I have no lymph nodes (breast cancer surgery).  The doctor warned me that he may have to do it via my neck if my vein collapses…he said he learned how to do it two years ago.  Not feeling too confident in trying that technique right now particularly since I have no medical insurance if anything goes wrong (travel insurance companies conveniently refuse cancer patients coverage).  Can’t do the infusions through the veins my hand for some reason.

I think we are going to go to the Faberge museum today.  It’s raining outside and not a very nice day to be walking around in…you’d think we were in London, England.  I thought there was going to be snow since it was February and brought my winter boots!  No umbrella!

Day 3 Alternative Cancer Treatment (Germany)

Excerpt from my diary on Monday, Feb. 3, 2015 Cancer Treatment in Germany

Went to the treatment clinic this morning at 8:30 where they took my blood, urine and saliva sample,  a photo of my eye, and some sort of analysis of my hands and feet (energy levels?).  From all of this information gathering, the doctor will tell me what his plan is for me.

I have done some reading about alternative treatment in Germany which includes intravenous vitamin C … this also can be done in canada via naturopathic clinics.  Apparently cancer cells have a lot of insulin-like receptors around them that feed off of sugar.  Vitamin C looks the same as sugar to them so they absorb too much and self destruct.  Vitamin C also carries a lot of oxygen.  Cancer cells don’t fare well in oxygenated environments. I think this is one of the therapies I will be given.  Other treatment plans involve oxygenating my blood.

hintergrund-caracalla-15-02-hiaussenbecken-foto-carasanaAfter the tests we had a lot of free time and I managed to persuade Bobo to go to the Caracalla spa with me.  We spent about 3 1/2 hours in there.  The spa is gorgeous…beautiful round pools with jets at various levels at the sides of the pool.  I had a massage and fell asleep.  There was a wet sauna aromatherapy room which I loved, but Bobo felt it was too hot.  There were some lounge chairs where you had your own personal drawstring for 6 minutes of tanning lights.  There was also a brine sauna (which smelled like you were in a forest with a bit of vinegar)…that opened up your sinuses, a wellness lounge, 2 or 3 outdoor circular pools with hot tubs in them, a rocky fountain whirlpool with an adjacent cold plunge pool, and a cafe.  What else could you possibly want?  No wonder the emperor came here all the time…the thermal waters are also for healing. People come from all over the world to visit this place.

caracalla41321352122937There was an upstairs area where you could go outside to two sauna log cabins, a blue “resting room” and a whole bunch of other interesting “wellness areas”, but I couldn’t convince Bobo to go with me because it was strictly a “no clothing” area.  He wasn’t going for it.  He said the only people he saw who have gone up there are old, fat, perverted men.

We went to the little indoor cafe where Bobo ordered a Vienna sausage with mustard and potatoes salad. I had a coffee, juice, soup and croissant, and we were happy. We went into the shop after our treatment.  I saw a towel I thought I should buy the next time I went to the spa because I didn’t bring one with me.  As I tried to unfold the towel to take a good look at it, a German lady storekeeper ran after me to prevent me from touching it. That was one angry woman.  Won’t be going back there any time soon!

Here is a map of the place to give you an idea of what this spa is like.

Here is a map of the place to give you an idea of what this spa is like.

There is a lovely church next to the spa and a statue of a woman with way too much bird poop on her.   Someone really needs to hose her down!

There is a lovely church next to the spa and a statue of a woman with way too much bird poop on her.
Someone really needs to hose her down!

Day 2- Germany

Excerpts from my trip to Germany (Saturday, Feb. 1, 2014)

So we went out to an Italian place for lunch/dinner…just to be safe.  I wasn’t sure that I was going to like the food in Germany, but I quickly found out that their food is much more healthier than ours. The menu said they had soup, but they lied.  No soup. The waiter was quite a character…he didn’t seem too happy about his career.  I don’t think he liked us “Americans” either.  If you speak English, you are American (unless you have a British Accent, that is).  I don’t like being lumped into the same category as the United States for some reason.  I am Canadian and proud of it.  The waiter disappeared for a while and went out the front door for a smoke.  I cannot believe how much cigarettes are consumed over here…you can’t go anywhere without smelling the cigarette smoke.  I found France like that too.

IMG_0584Bobo and I perused the menu.  It was priceless…so many english spelling errors.  Fruit des mers….see foot (seafood).  I took a copy of one side of the menu just so you can find all the errors for a good laugh (artishokes, artichocks, golic, and chees).  I wish I took a photo of the other side of the menu which was just as comical, but the waiter came to light the candle on our table.  It was a nice place.  He took our orders.  Came back with my husband’s  pizza…’cept he didn’t slice it.  Took us a while to get his attention to get his pizza sliced.  Later we discovered that every time you order a pizza, you need to slice it yourself.  Turned out our waiter was from Sicily.  He saw my name was Italian when I gave him my credit card to pay for our meal and he brightened up for a minute.

My German is truly non-existent. Thank heavens most of the people here have a general working knowledge of English. Went back to the Holiday Inn and tried to sleep for a while since we were up travelling all night and day.

Got up at 9:00 pm and tried watching tv…the stations are almost all Italian.  I don’t watch Italian T.V.; especially ones where the actors are speaking in English but the words are coming out in Italian.  Doesn’t work for me.  If there are any english stations, the shows are from the 1970’s.  I feel like I have travelled back in time.

My husband was happy because this place is full of italian restaurants and he will be quite content eating pizza for two weeks.

Here are some photos I took along the way.

Walking Through the Streets of Baden-Baden

Walking Through the Streets of Baden-Baden

Love the beautiful door fronts.

Love the beautiful door fronts.

Book Store with a Fountain inside.

Book Store with a Fountain inside.

True German Restaurant

True German Restaurant

Fountains in the streets.  Not sure what the huge statue is behind it.

Fountains in the streets. Not sure what the huge statue is behind it.


Beautiful fountains used in ancient times for people to get their water.

Beautiful fountains used in ancient times for people to get their water.



Fountains in the streets.  Not sure what the huge statue is behind it.

Fountains in the streets. Not sure what the huge statue is behind it.

True German Restaurant

True German Restaurant