flynn031

This New Year holds significance to many, for reasons which I am sure vary far past trivial conventions. I would consider myself one of many. As I inch closer to my last treatment on January 29 th , a date that still seems fanciful, I am reminded of another date: June 22 nd , 2014 otherwise known as “my graduation.” The day that we have all, as a community, agreed to mark the end of Said chapter in our life   and the beginning of said new chapter. I cant help but to critique such an odd belief that we all attach to this custom of graduation– it is much like that of the New Year: New beginnings, new resolutions, new chapter. And much like how graduation, for me, felt like a bridge that was never crossed, so did the new years and “new chapters” that trailed on behind it. But man that’s much too dark for my liking – just because I haven’t had the luxury of fresh starts and new beginnings lately, does not mean I have missed out. Like I say, this New Year is anticipated (with high hopes...

After more than two years of tolerating the cancer-killing drugs, I can only blame Murphy’s Law for the complications that I’m having now with merely 3 months to go. Yes, despite my complaining about the ghastly side effects, my body thus far has had no real unexpected issues with chemotherapy – until now. But of course, it’s nothing I can’t handle and something that I probably incited with my own ignorance. One of my maintenance chemo drugs, prednisone (the one that I can thank for giving me moon face, weight gain, ridiculous-pregnant-like cravings and a bottomless stomach) also has warning for side effects of weakening the joints. Woopdy-frigen-doo, I have mutating killer cells threatening to take over my body and here I am supposed to be worried about a little achiness in my knees? “POPPYCOCK!” – I respond to this dust-bunny of a side effect like Mr. Darling does to stories of Neverland. So much so that when I began to take notice of “my weak knees” it was such a pitiful issue that ...

Feeling like a true Italian at heart lately. Steroids ( Predisone to be exact) have been a focal chemo drug during this extensive maintenance phase. I’ve been taking the high dose medicine each month for five consecutive days, but for some reason, the effects never seem to wear off. But as I’ve mentioned in the past, this powerful-food loving drug has just as many pros as it does cons. The constant need to be satisfied by each consumption of food is as strenuous as the demand for lengthened slumbers and rest. In fact, since taking this drug not once have I gone to a restaurant without first inspecting its menu. Not once have I left a morsel of food on my plate after scarfing down my thoroughly calculated order. And as I once expressed this love of food through my cravings of Triple O’s burgers’ and pickles and cheese, I once again cannot stress how much P rednisone makes me love food. It’s hazardous. Even though I lack  gauge  of fullness, thanks to these steroids, and ...

Pray you never feel the abrupt rush of panic when looking back on your life – as an eighteen year old - and already finding yourself asking what if?. That feeling when your story line doesn’t fall parallel to that of Boyhood or your coming of age experiences don’t meet up to the standards of John Hughes. I was always a long-term planner who did whatever it took to mimic the happy life of a Molly Ringwald character, and live out all my passions through into my golden years. I knew what made me happy and If I found myself veering even slightly off my home-grown plan, I’d simply stop what I’m doing and change it.     So looking back on an unaligned, inconsistent and scattered storyline has left me with nothing but sheer fright. A horrific reminder that no matter how adventurous or innovative your friends are, YOU WILL NEVER LIVE OUT THE PLOTLINE OF THE GOONIES. Its a slap in the face. I hadn’t realized how detrimental life’s curve ball of the past 2 years has really been on ...

This month in Film studies (words I find myself saying much too frequently…) I learnt how director Alfred Hitchcock incorporates his iconic MacGuffin’s into his films and how they impose distinctive significance to storylines. For those of you who aren’t familiar, a MacGuffin  “…is a plot device in the form of some goal, desired object, or other motivator that the protagonist pursues, often with little or no narrative explanation; a MacGuffin is typically unimportant to the overall plot.” – Wikipedia I like to think of a MacGuffin, therefore, as a mere distraction: Something put forth by the director to distract the viewer from the driving purpose of the film; something that offers no explanation or reasoning; something that the film could still subsist without and that’s existence only helps develop the given story. As my first year at University comes to a close (only a month left of school before exams) I can’t help but believe that these upcoming months will be yet another ste...

Starting the 12-month countdown. As of January 2015 , I’ll have 12 more treatments left of what has seemed like an endless battle. While things should be getting easier, as this final 12 month stage of chemo is less intense, in a truthful simplification, it’s actually been quite the opposite.            1)       The effects of the steroids that I take once a month (turning me into a raging, munchie-consuming maniac) accumulate with each dose; meaning each time I ferry back to Vctoria after receiving treatment, the effects of the steroids are more intensified and my meal purchases from Triple O’s are consequently increased more in size – but as always, I view my food cravings as positives.          2)       The more normalized and routine my life becomes , the harder it is to accept that I am still in the midst of treatment. Each month I come home for my dose of chemo-cocktail, a sen...