Sunday, June 07, 2009

Pollyanna and the City

When my oncologist suggested that I postpone my chemotherapy treatment by one week so I could attend the National Magazine Awards gala at which I was to receive the Outstanding Achievement Award, I was a little skeptical: should I endanger my life to pick up a plaque? Then she added that I would benefit from the emotional high that would ensue from having a fun night and being the centre of attention; she said it would boost my immune system and make the chemo work even better. "We don't pay enough attention to the psychological and emotional effects of such things on our immune systems," she said. I was even more skeptical.

But I believe her now. I have had such a great few days, and I'm sure it's helped my health. Joan D. flew out from Calgary on Wednesday and we attended a dinner party with some of my old Ryerson classmates at Liz's, which was fun. On Thursday, Joan and I rested in my backyard -- the weather has been sunny, dry and not too hot, my favourite kind -- and went for a short walk to the local coffee shop. My back is behaving better since I resumed taking the Naproxen, and as far as chemo effects, I am feeling almost human again, despite a hacking cough.

On Friday, the day of the gala, Mom and Rosemary arrived from Kitchener, and we had a girlie afternoon; I decided to wear my sparkly Indian lengha and to go completely bald instead of wearing the wig. To enhance the effect, I had a neighbour of mine come over and do my makeup -- not just any neighbour, but Diana Carreiro, who is a top makeup artist with The Artist Group, and who is featured in that award-winning "Evolution" video from the Dove Real Beauty campaign (you can't see her face very clearly, but it's her doing the makeup and hair). She does a lot of charity work, including for Look Good Feel Better, and I was thrilled to be the recipient of her largesse. The makeup made a big difference, I think. With a bald head, as Diana said, it's go big or go home. It felt like a lot of paint to me, but Diana told me that when she did Sophia Loren's face at the film festival, the actress wouldn't have left the room with as little makeup as she put on me, so I guess it's all relative. Anyway, I think it worked.I had a table of 10 friends with me at the gala, which was held at the magnificent Carlu -- women who've been unbelievably helpful to me during my illness. My award was the first one -- I think the organizers planned it that way in case I didn't feel well enough to stick around. But I felt pretty good, and ended up staying the whole night. I'm sure adrenaline helped me stand upright, but the right drugs and having time to recover from the chemo was the key. It was a magical evening. Maryam Sanati introduced me, and made me blush. Worse was the gale of laughter that went up around my table when Maryam repeatedly noted how "quiet" I am. Not sure what she meant by that! It's not an adjective most people who know me would use. Nevertheless, I was moved by her kind comments.

My own speech was a little on the long side, and I rushed through it, but I think it went over well. I took a stand for those of us who do the behind-the-scenes work of fact-checking and copy-editing, decrying sliding standards as magazines migrate to the web. Quite a few people came up to me later and said I'd made them resolve to do better. It's probably a futile quest, but I had to use the opportunity of having a platform to speak my mind.

I was well aware that I had been selected for this award partially as a representative of all the unsung people who do this kind of work, and the best part of delivering the speech was the opportunity to name as many of them as I could, and to hear the crowd cheer after each name. That was special. Perhaps I'll post my speech in a separate entry.

I wasn't nervous, but when I finished reading the speech and started down the steps in front of the stage, Maryam had to grab my arm because my legs simply turned to water and began to shake. I guess it was an adrenaline response.

My "Doris & Me" story didn't win anything, but I didn't expect it to, so that was fine.

Anyway, it was great to see lots of colleagues and to feel like a human being, let alone a celebrated human being. The next day, Mom went back to Kitchener (my sister was kind enough to look after my dad for the night so Mom could attend, for which I was really grateful; my Dad is aware enough to understand that I was receiving an honour, and I've saved a sweet phone message in which he congratulated me in his halting voice). Diane, Joan and I had breakfast at the local greasy spoon, and last night Joan and I went for dinner at Gio Rana's Really Really Nice Restaurant, a hidden Leslieville hot spot in what used to be my old branch of the Bank of Montreal. The food there is wonderful -- kind of neo-Italian, and they serve small plates that combine to make a splendid meal -- and I had a glass of wine for the first time in months.

It sounds silly, but I felt as though all those episodes of Sex and the City I watched last week when I was so sick had come alive for me for a few days (minus all the relationship angst -- thank God that's all behind me). The memories will help me as I head into round five of chemo.

2 comments:

Dré said...

CB, I recall Maryam saying you were "quiet but not shy/reserved" or some such. I believe she was (wisely) referring to the professional volume-level of your voice only! You looked gorgeous on Friday. Several people told me your speech was empowering, and nearly made them cry. So glad I was there to see you.

Cynthia Brouse said...

Nobody in my family would ever accuse me of having a soft voice, either! Good thing I don't work with them.

Thanks for your sweet comments, Dré. You looked gorgeous in that black dress, by the way!