Okay so right off the top...I will be first to admit I'm new to the "group", and perhaps as such maybe shouldn’t be "barking" quite yet. I have always loved them...but never was I master to one... until 4 weeks ago.

I have had a slew of other pets over the years....budgies, gerbils, newts, rabbits, of course cats, and even a pet chicken. (Well chickadee). But Nova is my first pooch. She's growing like a weed, and yes there are difficult days....oh believe me, I have tried the Mexican "chhhh", as Ceaser Milan would have you believe...that’s all it takes.

I say - "bull chhh", sorry Ceaser, love your show....but that ain't working. As I'm learning it’s all apart of puppy hood, and it’s an evolving experience, as well as a rewarding one. I love Nova, but maybe I should have called her "Hoover" because she sucks up everything in sight. I cant tell you, what I have fished out of her little mouth, maybe that would explain what ends up coming out of the other end.

That’s in fact what I really wanted to blog about. What’s up with these "animal lovers" who don’t clean up after the pet. People it’s pooh, its bacteria, parasites and again POOH!! I know it’s not fun, coming from a gentle germaphobe, its one of the worst things to do. Just the thought, that there is only a micro millimeter of plastic that separates my hand from the stinky waste, was at first enough to make me hurl -BUT I STILL DO IT!!

I cant tell you how gross it is to be walking out in a nature park, enjoying the fresh air, the pitter patter of little Novas feet as she (I swear) smiles during our daily adventure...only to be surprised and halted by a huge pile of crap! I swear someone owns a mule in my neighborhood. It was a fly attracting speed bump. Gross, Gross, Gross. If you don’t want to take care of your pet then don’t have one. Attach a leash to your couch pillow and drag that around the neighborhood. We will all be happier.

If you believe that picking up crap is beneath you...then let your canine crap in your own backyard. There you can let it pile as high as you like - you can cover it with plywood, plant a tree over it, dig a hole and bury it...I don’t care....JUST DONT LEAVE OUT IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. Do you have any idea how filthy it is? Some studies suggest a single gram of dog doo, contains 23 million fecal coliform bacteria. It pollutes the ecosystem, and if your dog has worms, it infects other dogs with the parasite. In fact your consistent laziness could be the trigger to an endless cycle of worms for any and all other neighbourhood dogs who comes in contact with that pooh. That infection can potentially be transmitted to your family. How would you like it if your child contracted worms from the family dog, because someone refused to do the right thing and poop and scoop.

Wooooohhh, deep Breath, sorry to get all worked up about it.... I realize that I am specifically talking to a small "litter" of offenders...but they are ruining it for the rest of us. You do realize "they" are the reason dogless neighbours look and at times scowl at us as we walk by their house, thinking that we are the ones who left that stinky grass burning gift.

Did you know there are almost 2 dozen neighbourhood developments in the U.S that have now implemented a doggy DNA registration?. If you choose to live in these upscale complexes and own a dog you must submit a DNA of your dog. Snoopers will search the poopers and they will be charged. I don’t know if we need to go that far....yet, but then again if "poo prints" is what it takes...bring it on.

Properly trained, a man can be dog's best friend.
-Corey Ford

Click to view video at hopehappens.ca

What an absolutely beautiful day. I'm out in the backyard in my favourite lawn chair - it's the type that swings up like a laz-y-boy. It's a quiet day. Not eerily quiet, but calm. The birds are still doing their thing, in fact, I just noticed the unique muffled buzzing sound of a hummingbird.  I wasn't quite sure what it was at first -- then I spotted it. Man those little guys can really flap their wings. They always seem to have a purpose. flying and feeding. flying and feeding. Their purpose is survival I suppose.

At the root of things, that's what we humans do too. I've been doing quite well lately.  I haven't written as much as I would have liked to. Believe me, there is so much to tell you. I've been buzzing around like that little hummingbird, and find there are only so many hours in a day.

I do want to let you all know about a project I have been working on for the last several months. I mentioned it briefly on my last post and on my Facebook page. (You do know I'm on Facebook and Twitter right?)

@AnwarKnight on Twitter

My Facebook Page

Anyway, my journey began almost a year and a half ago.  It's a road that I'm still travelling, but it's led me to a new venture. One that I really hope will help people.

Being diagnosed with cancer changes your life.  I have been extremely blessed receiving and completing a treatment protocol that seems to have done what it was supposed to.  As I have happily discovered, there are many people who have successfully completed treatment.  That's a fact that I think should be celebrated.

I think its time we gently re-balance our perception of this disease. I don't think there is anyone who, once diagnosed, does not fear their mortality. The word "cancer" can leave some feeling defeated before they even know what the options are. That kind of thinking was nurtured before science was able to get ahead of it many decades ago.  It continues to instil fear and avoidance in patients and their supporters to this day.

I don't believe we will ever get the true upper hand on Cancer unless we really confront it head on. That means, in addition to the research that must continue, we need to celebrate the success stories, and stop empowering the disease by allowing it to take control.  I know it is true for some that recovery is not possible, but it's important to understand that more people survive cancer than are killed by it.

Yes, over 60 per cent of people who are diagnosed today will receive treatment and go on to live. Over 60 per cent.  No -- it's not perfect  -- far from it, but we have come a long way.  60 per cent means that more people are surviving cancer than ever before.

While we wait for a miracle breakthrough, the time has come for ALL OF US to do our part. We need to engage ourselves in prevention and early detection. If you do have cancer, the absolute best thing that you can do is detect it - EARLY. It can no longer be the "boogie man" in the closest that we try our best to avoid. If you find it early, the success rate in terms of treating some types of cancers jumps to over 90 percent.

As of today, I launched a support initiative for newly diagnosed cancer patients and survivors, it's called "Hope Happens"

(www.hopehappens.ca).  The site's main goal is simple.  I want to inspire hope. Hope does happen. People do embrace and celebrate life after cancer.

Hope Happens is an interactive website that is presented in an easily accessible format. We feature relevant and realistic information along with inspirational messages of hope from everyday people who have walked the treatment trench. We want to empower, engage and inspire and be a new vanguard against this disease.  Starting today you can help me do it.

With that, I want to thank everyone for their support with this initiative. Virtually all of the volunteers who helped me develop this project are "survivors" or have been touched closely by this disease. From the exceptional web building team at the Justin Poy Agency, to all of the participants who appeared in our video. They are all beacons of hope.  Like that little hummingbird in the backyard, we all have a purpose.  

Cancer does not have to be about the end, it can also be about a brave new beginning.

I am proof - Hope Happens.   


..."You will discover that you have two hands. One is for helping yourself and the other is for helping others."

Audrey Hepburn

Wow time really does fly by. Sorry for not writing sooner, so much has happened since my last post. Charlie Sheen losing, rain, the Japan tragedy, rain, the election, rain and now an anniversary. 

I sit here in my favourite corner of my couch, with a squishy pillow sandwiched behind my back, taking a deep breath. This past weekend, marked my one year anniversary of when I first began treatment.  I have completed it many months ago, and feel almost normal.  Wow there is a word I never thought would feel so good to say.  I FEEL NORMAL!!  

I was doing some gardening the other day, hauling top soil  and topping up some the flower beds -- this will sound a little weird, but I remember taking a break while sitting on the door step and thinking -- how lucky I was to be able to do this. I mean a year ago, for a short period of time I thought, I may never really be able to garden again.

It simply wasn't a priority in the grand scheme of things, just getting up each morning was my mandate. Today is a new day, and believe it or not, there is not a single one that goes bye now that I’m not thankful for. I consciously acknowledge that each and every day. That’s when I got it, I mean I really understood about appreciating everyday, not just talking about the ol' cliché “you don’t know what you have until you have lost it”…but actually embracing it. 

Adversity forces you to gain a new perspective on life, and it can in many ways be a blessing. Hope can and does sometimes happen.

It’s that new found knowledge that has put me into action.  I have made a personal goal to be a catalyst of change when it comes to this disease.

In the coming weeks I will be launching a personal initiative that I really hope will make a difference for those who are newly diagnosed with cancer.  It’s about people helping people and I am very excited about it.   Look forward to telling you much more very soon.

Stay Tuned…..

 

When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."

~Author Unknown

... And just like that, we already have a month of 2011 under our belts. January is actually somewhat poignant to me. It marks the 1-year anniversary of the day I first discovered that something wasn't right in my body. We were vacationing in Cuba at the time when we noticed a small painless lump on my neck, while on the beach. It was a discovery that changed my life forever, and also helped save it. Well, here's to new beginnings!

It seems that this winter, Mother Nature is also aching to start anew, with an old-fashioned winter of sorts. The snow, and very crisp cold air was almost non existent-last year. For some it was a great thing, I must be among the minority.

I love the different seasons, and always welcome winter. Let's face it, unless this season is 20 degrees and sunny almost everyday, there's no point in being teased with a boring, uneventful, and damp winter season. What can you really do when the ground is wet, but not snow covered, and with a temperature that sits at 3 degrees? I know, I can hear some of you saying it out loud right now -3 degrees is a lot better than the -33 wind chills we had over the last week. Well, that brutal cold was a bit of an exception, and just for the record that bitter bite has a purpose to  -- it kills mosquito larvae and other teeny pests that would otherwise flourish come spring. If we are going to have a winter season, cue Dean Martin here please, "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow."

To be fair some areas have seen A LOT more snow than us in Toronto, like Lucan (Southwestern Ontario). They recorded over 2 metres of fresh snow in December. I know it's no fun to be driving in it, however, once the shoveling is done and the roads plowed, it's a scene worthy of exploration.

I went for a walk today, I bundled right up and ventured through a nearby nature trail. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. The snow seems to act like a muffler, silencing the city sounds in the background. There is only the crunch of your boot echoing as it squishes the ice underfoot. It's really beautiful. You know, if you close your eyes, you can almost hear nature releasing a sigh of content. The snow is like a much needed blanket, it forces almost everything underneath it to take a break for a few months. Wouldn't it be great if we could learn to take a cue from that? No, I'm not talking about a 12 week hibernation/vacation, (although that would be nice too). What I'm talking about, is taking the time to regularly reconnect with things that are important -really important to us. I call it the grounding plate. It's that special aspect of our life that make us want to get up every morning and make it count. We all need it, and in fact at times don't realize how much we depend on it, until it dwindles away.

We are always on the go, I think the holidays that just passed proved it. I guess it's partly because it all happened over 2 weekends this year, making the number of days we had off even shorter. By Monday, I along with others, were back at work with only holiday memories left. Anyway, I hope you had a great time, and judging by some of your responses on my Facebook page, it appears tasty holiday treats were aplenty. I mentioned, in my last blog, that this holiday was going to be a big test for me when it comes to sweet treats. Trying to avoid white flour and processed sugar is a challenge on a regular day, but that much harder during Christmas. However, as we soon discovered, with a little research there are many options. Agreed not always the most affordable, but that's what treats are about I guess. We ended up ordering an organic Carrot Cake, and I've got to tell yah, it was awesome. That is not to say, there weren't "other" goodies, I just tried to keep them below my radar.

I have managed to maintain my newfound weight within about 3 pounds. It's something I'm quite proud of. To me it symbolizes two things; one, my body seems to be working the way it should be, and two, the new diet can only mean I am, at the very least, a little healthier than pre-diagnosis.

It's interesting as I meet more and more people on the street since I have returned, the most common thing I hear nowadays is "Wow you have lost a lot of weight", followed by "you're much smaller in person". The funny thing is -- it really is true, TV does add 10 pounds, so I guess for some people who meet me for the first time it is a shock. My automatic response is usually "you need a smaller TV and I will look just right." ;)
Anyway that's all for now....will talk soon.

Snowflakes are one of nature's most fragile things,
but just look what they can do when they stick together.
Vesta M. Kelly

I was reminded once again over the weekend that I'm still not a fan of those LED Christmas lights. I mean, I appreciate what they do for the environment, but the glow just isn't quite right. Nevertheless, I swapped them over from the old incandescent style a few years ago.

I was indeed motivated by the use of less power, matched, of course, with the hope of even the most minute savings on my hydro bill. We put up the garland, some red bows and 2 topiaries. It looked good when it was all done -- yes, very festive. So, with the outside finally complete, that only leaves the inside. We usually go all out, just don’t ask about the tree.

I was perfectly fine with the bachelor bargain of all bargains tree I got many years ago. You likely won't believe me, even if I tell you. It's not like I set out looking for it, it just happened. And when you see a deal like that - you can't pass it up. So, I got, get this now, a 5-foot artificial tree for  -- are you ready?  -- 1-99. Yes $1.99, not 199 -- a cool one dollar and 99 cents.

Before Christmas, it was valued at more than 40x that price. Now the scotch tape that I seal the box it came with costs more than the entire tree. Needless to say, I bought 2 of them. I figured I could put one outside as a decoration, with no worries if someone stole it. Okay, admittedly, it’s no Rockefeller centre-type tree, but years ago, it worked out just fine. It made things eggnog in a carton easy -- a simple solution that didn't take up much space, not to mention the terrific tear down. Well, those little trees have been entombed in the basement, and my wife insists that is where they shall stay. Her secret wish is that they crumble to nothing.

We did get a "real" tree last year. It was our first Christmas in the new home, and I was genuinely excited. That is until I had to drag it from the car, cut off the end, haul it in the house, prop it up in the stand and then, for the next 4 weeks, meticulously wipe the sap drips off the hardwood floor. I swear, it was like I was on maple syrup duty at Terra Cotta. This tree dripped like an old, leaky faucet -- non-stop. Apparently, it’s all my fault for getting a pine. "My plastic tree never leaked.” Enough said.

This year, we opted for a family heirloom -- it's a majestic, broad sweeping artificial tree. For now it will do just fine. Someday we'll go back to the real thing, just not this year. I'm not going to sweat it. I'm just glad that I am healthy enough to enjoy this magical time. It's very nice. Eight months ago I would not have thought a normal day would come again. That said, just when I start to indulge in "life", there it is -- a sucker punch. It's not in the physical sense, it's more on the emotional side, especially when I hear of someone else dealing with this disease. You analyze it, and re-live that anxiety, imagining what they are going through. It's an absolutely terrible round of emotions and leaves you feeling so defeated. It is conceivable to me that is the yang in life, the balance that echoes something I have focused on and mentioned before -- every single day is precious.

I'm now back full speed ahead at work, logging full 5-day weeks. I still get a little tired now and then, but it's okay. As I'm regularly going out on location again, for CTV News at noon, I have met many extraordinary people in person. Some who have read the blog, others, who just wanted to say hi. All of you continue to extend a warm welcome. Thank You.

I am proud of myself. I'm still engaged with my healthier diet and feel empowered by it. The real test was over Halloween when my niece and nephew offered me first dibs from their sugar-ladened loot. I stuck to my not nearly as sinful dark chocolate (85%), and it sufficed. The Christmas feast is the next hurdle - I will keep you updated on that challenge in the New Year.

I have also started something new, something I never thought I would have done -- I have joined Yoga classes. It's only once a week and no, it’s not HOT YOGA -- I couldn't ever do that. Just the thought of a room full of over-worked sweat glands, dripping with germs, all baking like a cesspool on a hardwood skillet -- yuck! This is basic yoga, and quite interesting, it teaches me how to relax and breathe -and then there are the stretches.

In the end, it becomes a 60 minute rejuvenating and relaxing outing for me. Yes, it was a little foreign at first, I think you need to be open to it. It's an intimate opportunity, quiet with soothing music, which sometimes, as I discovered, may get interrupted. You twist and gently contort your body in controlled positions that were created, in some cases, centuries ago. These are tasks that, I assure you, are not easy, especially for beginners. In my most recent class, there were a couple of newbies (newer than I anyway), and as we engaged in our routine, the tranquility was abruptly disturbed by - a fart. Surely unintentional, and in her defence, we were pushing our knees to our noses-which I guess activated the Flatulence switch. You might think I am making this up, but surprise, surprise -- as I'm learning, it does happen. As such, I make sure I don't eat at least 90 minutes before I go to class -- so far, so good.

Wishing you and your loved ones the best of the holiday season. May you all be blessed with happiness and health. Will talk soon

The adventure of life is to learn. The purpose of life is to grow. The nature of life is to change. The challenge of life is to overcome. The essence of life is to care. The opportunity of life is to serve. The secret of life is to dare. The spice of life is to befriend. The beauty of life is to give. The joy of life is to love.
-William Arthur Ward

Why me? Why not me?

I Gotta Go Pee

Thank You!

A date with my weed wacker

An Aha Moment?

Nights on White Satin

What's in a name?

Love and Laughter

2x2 Tattoo

Video: 'Weather Weenie' Anwar Knight says hello

Flax seed and Fedoras

Video: Lifetime with Pauline Chan : Anwar's Treatment

Making Lemonade

Knight in the morning

It felt a little cold as I slowly spread the gel on my face. It was nothing too shocking -- it never really is, or was. Well maybe, when I did it for the first time, when I was a young teenager. Yes today I have decided to shave. I'm going to reclaim my facial landscape, leaving only the familiar goatee. On this day I approached the task with deep thought. 

Before this journey began the daily ritual of shaving was nothing more than a mild nuisance (I'm sure many guys would agree). However, today's chore I realized was so much more. I equate this shave in a small way, to a moth coming out of hibernation. I have cocooned long enough. For now, I have been blessed with a new beginning. Today's activity was in preparation for my return to work.

Yes, the doctors have given me the green light to get on with my life and head back to CTV.  It will be a slow integration over the next few weeks, but I'm looking forward to it -- and it feels great.

I haven't manicured my mug since this all began. Oh sure, I've done the odd trim with the clippers so I wouldn't look like Grizzly Adams, but other than that, I just let it grow. It started months ago because my doctors had asked that I not shave, to avoid risk of an infection during chemo. After that, it just became easier. Not to mention, as I see it now, it has given me something else to look forward to.

On this occasion, I stood there looking at myself in the mirror and had to acknowledge that I am a different person. Not just emotionally, but physically too. I have never grown a full beard before, I'm also slimmer -- dropping about 15 pounds. My bathroom scale says I weigh pretty much what I did when I was in college. (I'm certainly not complaining about that -- except that all my clothes are now a size, if not 2, too big!!).

With a coat of shave gel spread across the lower half of my face, it wasn't long before I came to the conclusion that I was doing this all wrong. (Hey, I told you I have never grown a beard before.) Apparently it was too thick -- after 3 strokes, the razor was clogged up like a lawnmower would be during the first cut after summer vacation. I had to wash it all off, trim it down with the clippers, then take the razor back at it.  A few minutes later, and one minor nick, there he was, what seemed like a new person staring at me from the other side of the mirror. A better person? I don't know -- maybe? A more appreciative, and focused one, yes, definitely.

My newly shaved face will return to the airwaves on the morning of Thursday October 21st (my first day back at work). I'll be doing my regular beat,  the news updates during Canada Am, starting at 6:55, followed by CTV News at noon. I'm a little nervous about it all, but I don't know why.

Actually, that's not entirely true -- there are several reasons. To start, I feel like people will "see" me differently. Partly, I guess, because not all of my thinned out hair has yet returned, and it likely won't, but it's really not that bad. The truth is, I'm not quite sure I'm ready to wear that "survivor" hat. I have always disliked the terms "fighting" or "battling," when it comes to this disease. I say it respectfully, but to me, it suggests that it's a challenge you could lose. I've always preferred saying "getting treatment" for …

There are so many, many people, that have had, and will have, to endure much more traumatic treatments than I. Yes, sadly, not all of them will be successful. As I have said many times before, I feel blessed for many reasons.

On average, if healthy, we can expect to celebrate hopefully close to 80 Birthdays. Think about that: 80. I hate to simplify the beauty of life to just a few numbers, especially considering of course there are no guarantees. Nevertheless, as I have learned through this journey, it’s what you do with those 29,000-plus days that counts.

I think it's likely something that is difficult to fully appreciate, unless you have dealt directly with a life changing situation like this.  I know that, because 6 months ago, that was me. You hear about someone's adversity, hopefully you sympathize, offer compassion (which is a wonderful thing for so many reasons), and for a moment you reflect. But, I don't think we really absorb the magnitude of it, or learn from it. Does that indirect experience translate into a conscious change that we carry into our own life?

I think more often than not, it doesn't -- until we become a part of the equation. I'm not judging anyone, I'm only sharing what I think and have learned. I truly believe it's important. It doesn't mean you need to live a life like the Dalai Lama, for most of us, that's not realistic. Maybe instead we all try to be more in tune with what is precious in life and realign things a little?

How many of us, in our very busy morning routine, take the time to wish our spouse, or kids, a good day -- tell them you love them before you all walk out the door? When was the last time you made an effort to reach out to a long-distance friend, or relative? How many times have we all said, "we'll have to get together sometime soon"? Does that "sometime" ever happen? Again, I'm not judging anyone, it's just that these types of little things have become much more in focus for me. As we all know, there is only one certainty in life, and that is - we all, at some point, will die. Grasp and acknowledge what ever blessings you have been given and then explore and discover more.

I will continue to visit my oncologists, and other doctors quite regularly now to monitor my progress. Today everything looks good, but is it really gone? I hope so. Will it come back? I don't know. But, I also don't know if a tire will fly off a big rig on the 401 and hit my car. Experience from others tell me that this feeling of uncertainty will eventually fade as the months become years. In the meantime, I plan on keeping on, keeping on.

I haven't figured out what to do about my blog. I'd like to keep it going, but I'm not sure of all the particulars at this point. It may be continued on a different website. I promise to update you regularly on anwarknight.com as well as Twitter and Facebook.  However until then, a big thank you to the CTV Web Team.  They have been so kind, encouraging and accommodating, during all the updates and technical tweaks. Thanks Guys!

I also need to express a heartfelt thank you the fantastic team at Princess Margaret Hospital. Dr. Kukreti, Dr. Wadhwa, Dr. Lau and of course, Dr. Gospodarowicz. The hospital is simply one of the best on the planet, and I am blessed to have this incredible team taking care of me.  Adding to that, I am so very grateful for my family and friends, who I will continue to embrace and thank privately.

And of course, I want to thank you, the viewers and readers. You have re-ignited the torch of kindness. It’s something that likely many of us have thought was extinguished years ago. We are quite regularly reminded of the, shall we say "not so good", members of society. The random acts of selfishness, violence, and disrespect. From day one, you have extended an unbelievable show of support, love and friendship, to a stranger -- a guy who simply tells you whether it will be cold or warm, wet or dry.

I have received messages and cards from across the GTA, the province and even from across the globe: Personal stories from others who have dealt with this disease, words of encouragement from courageous people like a 13-year-old boy who was successfully treated with a brain tumour when he was 10, to other lymphoma patients, both long-term survivors and newly diagnosed. All of you have surrounded me like an extended family.

I don't know how to thank you. I really don't know what to say. You have helped me more than you will ever, ever know. Lastly, for those who are dealing with cancer, yes, it's never easy -- but no matter what, never, ever, give up. As Christopher Reeve once said, if you choose hope, anything is possible. God Bless.

See you on Thursday....

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is bliss, taste it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.
--Mother Teresa

Do you remember the days as a young kid when you went back to school after the summer holiday, and one of the first assignments would be to write a short story on "what you did this summer"? Well, with the summer of 2010 now officially over, it’s something I started thinking about. "What DID I do this summer"? I would like to think … I made lemonade.

Of course, it's a metaphor and it certainly wasn't quite easy as that -- far from it. However, thankfully and surprisingly, I can say there ARE some positive things to come from this journey -- some things I have embraced, and am extremely grateful for. I feel I need to explain but just don't know how.

I'm not, in anyway, applauding this disease, but it has forced me to travel across a bridge that I have never crossed before. I have opened my eyes to things that one typically experiences from a comfortably safe distance. We all assume that situations like this happen to "someone else." Well this past summer I became the ‘someone else’, and perhaps you, reading this right now, have too.

Admittedly, each person, each patient, each outcome is unique. Regardless, for me, it's very important to focus on the fact that no matter what situation you're dealing with there is always something that will echo, at the very least, a feeling of comfort. No matter how small the triumph or victory, search for it and celebrate it. I don't believe there are rules to healing. Simply do what makes you feel good. Over the last several months, I have tried to do just that. In a small way it was a blessing to recover in the warm summer sun, resting in my own backyard, (something that would certainly not be possible had this all occurred in November). I also discovered and now rely on, a previously unknown pleasure -- writing. This blog has been somewhat therapeutic, and more rewarding than I would have ever imagined. I chose to share my journey with the hope of, perhaps, helping someone in some small way. As it turns out, you have helped me.

My journey is not over yet, who knows if it will really ever be over. That's why I've come to praise even the slightest sense of "normalcy." For example, I recently wrapped up a couple of relaxing days with my dog-in-law, Casey. (Animal lovers, you know, pets are family too.) She's a Rhodesian Ridgeback and Labrador-mix, a kind-spirited dog belonging to my wife's family who live near Stratford, in rural Ontario.

Heading to the rural rendezvous is always a nice escape. Lately it tends to nurture moments of reflection. This wasn't an intentional quest, but there's no doubt, it's awfully beneficial. Farm country always offers a refreshing new landscape, lingering barn smells not withstanding, with very little distraction, unlike the city. There are no congested exhaust-filled intersections, no traffic at all really, no coffee shop on every corner, no large crowds, no jet planes roaring above. What you get instead, a somewhat soothing calm that wraps you up like a blanket. On this visit I took Casey out for a long walk -- a rural afternoon adventure down a gravel road to, well, we weren't sure -- it was an adventure after all.

Casey loves walking, even though she has dozens of acres of her very own to play on. She is always excited to explore new territory. Her nose, no doubt, goes into overdrive as she picks up a Mandarin buffet-sized variety of smells. So off we went along this almost deserted road where there are rows and rows of corn growing. I could not help but notice the 2-metre high stocks doing what looked like a dance from the gentle fall breeze. They rustled and swayed in unison, like a carefully choreographed performance. I'm thankful that I am able to acknowledge something as simple as this.

I suppose anyone who deals with a journey similar to mine can't help but think of their mortality. It's probably something we all, on a rare occasion give thought to, but it becomes a little more front and centre when an illness enters the picture. It sounds cliché, but it really is true --  you do appreciate things more, even something like a countryside walk along a field of corn. I know that sounds silly, but I think it's a wonderful thing. Maybe its the fresh country air, the different sounds and smells, they wake up your senses -- kind of a "I'm still here and you know what -- I'm doing okay" sort of thing.

With all the scheduled treatments now finally over and the side effects slowly waning, it's time for me now to try and concentrate on the next chapter. It’s hard though, because there is an expectation that you will get this immediate seal of "healthiness" from the doctors when treatment ends. They don't tend to do that right away, especially with c_n_er. That, of course, only feeds your anxiety metre. You now become acutely aware of every imperfection that your body exhibits. For a moment or two, in your mind, everything and anything feels like it’s a part of the next shoe to drop. From minor aches, to sniffles and even, what's that? -- heaven forbid  -- (insert dramatic music here), is that a new potentially dangerous mole? It's all apart of the "what if?" phase. "What if the treatment didn't work? What if it comes back? What if my life will never really be normal again?" I'm hoping and praying it will be, while trying to keep things in perspective. I never lose sight of the fact that, despite my diagnosis,
I am indeed still very lucky. I know that, and will always be grateful for it.

Back to our walk, with the gravel under our feet, I noticed an occasional small pocket of dust trailing behind us as we continue our countryside stroll. We were about 3 km down the road when Casey froze and started to growl. Her eyes locked onto a herd of cattle on one of the neighbours' farms. The larger ones stood motionless while the calves quickly ran behind their mothers. I remember once a farmer telling me during a school field trip to the Royal Winter Fair, that cows actually don't mooo -- rather the sound they make mimics more of a "low." Hmmm, this was too tempting for this city slicker, how often do you get to pretend you're a Cow Whisperer (and with no witnesses)? So, after calming Casey down, I cupped my mouth in an effort to project more loudly and tested out the theory. "Looooooooooooooooowww".

While I'm sure you're thinking at this point, the weather weenie has lost it, I proceeded to call a few more times and guess what, my friends? The team of ¼-pounders (I'm talking over a dozen) then trotted intensely to the corner of the fence with extreme interest. Their attempt, or so I believe, was to get closer to the 2-legged Holstein and his four-legged, furry friend.

I wanted to approach the fence too, but Casey wouldn't have it. At this point I really didn't want to push it. So, taking a page from the Dog Whisperer, I snapped Casey's collar, and gently motioned to her. It was time to head back to where we started. As we wandered back toward the house, I realized that's the next phase of my journey... getting back to where I started... A day in the country does the body, and mind, good.

• Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow. - Dorothy Thompson

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Boy, before all this, I never really appreciated the comfort a Muskoka chair offers. The little luxury has become especially nice for me during the warm summer evenings. I'll quite often plop myself down in one on the front patio with a handful of store flyers in one hand and my laptop in the other. It's a nice little break just before dinner when my energy level drops near "empty". That was an expected side effect of radiation, but it's not nearly as bad as the dreaded chemo.

World Lymphoma Awareness Day Sept. 15, 2010 www.lymphoma.ca

To be perfectly honest, I actually enjoy having some simple structure right now. I hate the reason for it, but for the first time in months, I'm on a regular routine. It’s one that also requires an alarm clock, too. My radiation treatments are daily, with weekends off. It's almost like going to work -- almost. The late morning drive along the Lakeshore is quite a pleasure. I enjoy feeling the warm sun, and seeing the water and the hub of summer activity along the route. Dog walkers, cyclists, and kids playing in the wading pool at Budapest Park. They are all the delightful signatures of a perfect summer day, and in a small way, I am part of it. It just feels good. I savour these moments for as long as I can, sometimes even taking the longer route, if time permits. That is something I would have never done six months ago. This comforting diversion lasts all the way -- that is, until I walk through doors of the hospital.

Then reality sets in again. I'm still a patient. A patient, at one of the best cancer treatment and research hospitals in the world, mind you, but I am here for yet another radiation treatment. The team in the ward is fantastic. They're always very friendly, caring and respectful. They put you at ease, just before they zap the hell out of you. I try not to think about just what those radio-active beams do -- I'll tell ya though, I'm like a nervous kid when it all starts up.

I can tell exactly when the beam is about to fire up -- repetition has been my teacher. The precise and calculated electronic movements of the gurney, and oh yes, those specialized sounds; the whirling, revving and buzz-ing. Each day we go through the exact same setup, so I close my eyes, and to be honest, have a brief moment with a higher power. It may sound a little odd, but remember once you're in position, you can't move -- and not even for an itch. So for several minutes, with the medical team safely out of the radio-active zone, it's just me, the impending laser beam and I would like to think, God.

We all secure our private source of strength. It could be faith, maybe a friend or some other way. Whatever it is, it's personal and for many a crucial part of inner peace. As I lay on the gurney, there are so many different thoughts that go through my mind. Today I realized I'm still trying to convince myself that the distant glow I see ahead on this journey could indeed be, as they say, the light at the end of the tunnel. I have a hard time accepting that, perhaps, for now the worst of this journey could soon be over. I should be clear, it’s certainly not that I don't want it to be. I guess it’s just that, there's still that uncertainty -- the unknown. Will something else come next? It's like an open wound that won't heal. Although there is no real physical pain per say, I feel my body remains forever tainted because of the illness. Hopefully that feeling is something that will fade in the passing weeks, months and certainly years.

In the meantime my game plan includes focusing on recovery while working on efforts to expedite the process. I'm sure everyone reacts differently when dealing with this kind of illness. For me, the medicine/treatment is one thing and my lifestyle is another. I will likely never know for sure why I am one of the ones to get this disease, but I am going to do as much as I can with the hope that I can prevent it from coming back. I am much more in tune with what I deem toxic to me now, some might say I'm borderline obsessive, but I strongly believe our ever changing daily environment is making it easy for Cancer. Lymphoma is, in fact, now the Number 1 Cancer in 18-35 year olds and rates are still rising. I know there are endless studies and research on both sides when it comes to environmental toxicity, but for me its simple -- reducing my exposure is something I can actually control.

One thing that I have truly embraced is a new diet, or perhaps better described as a firmly modified one. Whether it has a direct impact on my future or not, I don't think it really matters. How can eating healthier be a bad thing? There are studies and a ton of research suggesting the benefits of natural whole foods, especially when it comes to preventing diseases. Although I am not supposed to ingest herbal supplements during treatment, I have found a new pleasure in eating organic fruits and veggies -- even breads, and grains. I'm regularly eating cruciferous  vegetables, like broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage, more home grown tomatoes, plus nectarines, plums, kiwi, berries, pineapple and many more. It is not only amazing how tasty these super foods are -- but also the rewards they offer the human body.
 
For a moment, please indulge me with a blogger disclaimer: If you are undergoing treatment or recently diagnosed -- it is important that you consult with your physician before altering your regular diet. Certain foods and supplements may cause adverse affects during treatment.
 
One of the first things I bought after my diagnosis was a juicer, with a little research and a lot of practice, I have become a perfected juice junkie -- Jack LaLanne look out! One of my favourite juice concoctions features all organic: broccoli, cauliflower, 1/2 of a red pepper, 2 carrots, an apple, and a handful of strawberries. It’s awesome.
 
Aside from the juicing, I am also trying to avoid white flour and refined sugars. I opt now for whole wheat or kamut, mixed with a little flaxseed. A recent study confirmed that cancerous cells use sugar or fructose as an energy source that can help tumours grow more quickly. I've started using agave nectar as a substitute. It is made from the same plant that produces Tequila or Xyiltol, which is an alcohol sugar made, most commonly, from birch trees.

Moderation is still key here, because it "is" sugar and still contains calories -- despite being a natural sugar. I know, I know, you're thinking -- he's becoming one of those guys -- "everything is bad for you" blah blah blah. Hmmmm, I don't think so. Admittedly, I'm much more selective, but to each their own. For me, its an exciting change that, I believe, makes me healthier, while creating an inhospitable environment for cancer -- that's not to mention a little bonus, I've lost over 10 pounds.
 
Okay, so that's enough of this Dr. Oz stuff. On to something a little more critical at the moment: my hair.

As you may recall, in a previous post, I remarked how lucky and blessed I was, that I did not lose all my hair. That is still the case, (he says confidently) yet my thinned out doo isn't doo-ing much else. I haven't seen much improvement. In fact, the back has turned a little curly. I know it takes time, and yes I realize it could be so much worse, but now I'm getting a little uneasy about it. I was so self-conscious that I went hat shopping. I wanted to add to the blue cap that I already have.

It was a task that was much more difficult than I would have ever thought. There are so many styles, colours, and fabrics. Hats for small heads, fat heads, hairy heads, bald heads, young heads -- old heads. For a fleeting moment, I almost considered a fedora, but I was afraid I looked like a cast-off from "Dancing with the Stars." Then there were the civil army-type caps, not too bad, but with my newly acquired facial hair, from a distance I could pass for a Cuban soldier. (Not that that's necessarily a bad thing). In the end, I opted for more of the same, but different colours - even a patterned one. It’s boring, perhaps, but safe.

Now, before I wrap up, I want to let you know that September 15th is World Lymphoma Awareness Day. Like all cancers, the earlier you catch it, the better. So what are you looking for? Well in most cases, including my own, it starts with a swollen lymph node. It doesn't always mean you have cancer, but certainly warrants prudent follow up.
 
You do know where your nodes are, don't you? That's okay -- I didn't either. To find out, see www.lymphoma.ca. It’s a brand new website setup by the Lymphoma Foundation of Canada. If you're newly diagnosed or have a friend or family member dealing with Lymphoma, this a great resource.

With your help, we can make people more aware of this disease -- maybe even, some day, eradicate it.
 
Thank You
 
 
Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon.
- Doug Larson