Have you ever heard of the two-bucket method?

I hadn’t heard of it until last week when our well ran dry.

We’re now using the two-bucket method to flush our toilet.

It’s hard to put into words what it’s like to live without any water.

Essentially, everything is a chore:

• Washing our hands – bowl in the sink with a bit of water and some dish soap
• Making a meal – it’s difficult to cook without using water
• Getting a drink – we’re buying big jugs of water
• Showering – fortunately we have friends and Marc’s parents who have offered us their showers
• Flushing the toilet – the two-bucket method works but it’s tricky and if you get it wrong it uses a lot of water
• Laundry – we’re doing it at Marc’s parents in Barrhaven

For about a week now, we’ve been thinking and obsessing about water. It’s funny how much you take something like water for granted until you don’t have it.

I try to remind myself that we’re very fortunate and that there are worse shituations.
But I have to admit, some days I’m running a little low on optimism and a balanced perspective.

Looks like we’ll be drilling a new well. I shudder to think of the cost. But we don’t have an alternative.

Unfortunately we created this drought and overarching climate change reality by ignoring the signs as far back as the 1980’s. It’s only when it hits home that we have a tinge of regret.

Last week the Ottawa Citizen reported on what it’s like to live without water and to have a dry well.

It’s a very well reported and written article. I urge you to read it and think about your water usage and how you can cut back.

What It Means When the Ottawa Region Has A Severe Rainfall Deficit

Even if you live in a large city or town with municipal water, you will feel the impacts of drought (i.e climate change)—higher food prices, fewer birds, bees, animals, power outages, increased fires, power air quality, higher risk of Lyme disease, and the list goes on.

This word sums up what life without water is like: Discombobulating.

A big couple days around these parts for me and Marc.

On August 7th we celebrated our 21-year wedding anniversary. Wow—21 years. I can remember that day like it was yesterday (this is impressive since I often forget the code to unlock my front door).

Here’s some blast from the past photos of our big day at the Lone Star Ranch:

And today is another big day for us—it’s my 9-year stomaversary.

It’s funny, I’m so used to living life with a stoma and ileostomy that I forget that this isn’t normal. That most of you aren’t like me. It’s interesting how the brain and body adjusts to a new normal so quickly.

There are days when I hate this body and what I have to live with. But then I remember the days and years before the surgeries. I was barely living.

My stoma and ileostomy have not cured my ulcerative colitis—but they’ve made life a heck of a lot better. There is still consistent pain and the long-term effects of malnutrition, heavy doses of medications, and depression are a constant reminder that ulcerative colitis and its extra-intestinal effects will always be with me.

This is not a bad thing. It’s a gift. (I’ve written and said this before.)

Perspective. When you know how bad it can get and what you can survive—only then do you really appreciate what you have today.

And in case you’re wondering what a person with a pouch (bag), small intestines sticking out of their abdomen, no colon and rectum, and a barbie butt looks like—here’s a few photos:

See—I kinda look like you!

Geez things sure have been quiet around here for a long while. Sorry about that. It’s not that I haven’t thought about writing, it’s just that I didn’t get around to it.

You know how it is. You have a great idea. You tell yourself you’re going to get on it. And then, something else comes up and the moment has passed.

This is how it’s been for the last couple of months. So much has happened that normally I’d be telling you about, but I really couldn’t catch my breath to sit down and type.

But here I am.

So what’s been going on? February and March were a blur of the unexpected.

A car accident on the way home from a swim meet. I’m okay. The poor Matrix took a good bashing, but fortunately it was fixable.

Then just a couple weeks later, Marc’s appendix ruptured. He had emergency surgery and a five-day stay in the hospital. Fortunately Marc is recovering well and steadily getting back to feeling like himself.

And then last week I had cataract surgery. I learned in December that I had developed a cataract in my right eye. Another side effect of the medications I took to manage my ulcerative colitis. I am super fortunate to have been able to get this surgery done so quickly.

And now here we are. In between all this excitement there was life.

I was lucky to be able to attend a hockey practice with the Ottawa Charge. This was an experience of a lifetime. Definitely two hours that I will never forget. My eyes are a bit watery just thinking about it.

This photo sums up my experience…

I don’t know what I’m trying to say with this summary of the last few months. Maybe that we need to find the silver linings in everything and everyone.

There is a lot of bad news out there right now. And at times like this, it’s hard to find the goodness. But I’m confident you don’t have to look very far to find it. Your family. Your friends. Your neighbours. Yourself.

There is goodness all around us. Acknowledging this and giving ourselves and the people around us a little bit extra grace goes so far in smoothing out the bumps.

Control your controllables. This is all you can do.

I just finished rereading Between Two Kingdoms – A Memoir of a Life Interrupted by Suleika Jaouad.

I first read this incredible book in 2021, it’s a permanent book on my Kindle. And then when I saw the paperback in my very big bookstore, I had to buy it. Even though I have it on my Kindle.

For some reason, I needed to hold this book. To see the cover with Suleika, Oscar, and Sunshine sitting ready for the next big thing.

This book is not an easy read. It’s at times horrifying. Suleika brings you with her inside the many hospital rooms, ICUs, and chemotherapy appointments. It is an honest account of her experiences as a young person on the cusp of adulthood and suddenly dealing with death every single day.

When I first read her book, I knew a little about Suleika thanks to her NY Times column. I was drawn to her because of illness. While I have not had a cancer diagnosis, I do know what life is like with a chronic and at time debilitating illness.

I felt in 2021 that Suleika would understand me, and I her. We shared a common language and at some levels experience. What Suleika so clearly communicates is the life people like her, me, and anyone who has come out of the other side has to live through – the stillness and uncertainty between sickness and relative health.

This space is for me, the two kingdoms.

Rereading this book over the last few weeks has been a comfort. It reminds me of the importance of not losing perspective and the gift of making it through.

We are in some strange times right now – wherever you live in the world. Chaos, darkness, and not-great-humanity are everywhere. This book reminds you of how lucky your are and that there is indeed still goodness.

Definitely read this book. It’s not easy. But nothing valuable is easy. It might just help you shift your perspective. And remind you on those days when you need it, that you are indeed a fortunate person.

Suleika has a new book coming out very soon. Yes, I’ve preordered it… The Book of Alchemy – A Creative Practice for An Inspired Life. And if you haven’t watched it, watch American Symphony on Netflix.

Thank you Suleika for being so honest and open. We need more of this. And thank you for saying what is so hard for so many of us to articulate.

If you’re looking for the book, here’s the cover:

It’s not often I cry in my car while listening to my favourite song. I should have expected this to happen. After all, I had felt my heart pounding in my chest from the minute I woke up.

I told myself it was just “swimming” and there was no reason to be anxious or worked up. But sometimes I’m stubborn and refuse to listen to common sense.

So when My Body by Young The Giant started playing, it hit me in all the spots and I started crying. And like magic, once the song was over, I was a-okay.

One small panic attack in the car. Not bad. I take that as a win. Why all the tears and stress? I was on my way to the Nepean Sportsplex for the Nepean Masters Swim Club Red vs. Blue Swim Meet. (And I have a tendency to get a bit anxious and stressed before sporting events.)

This is a fun and very welcoming swim meet. No medals. No podiums. No prizes. Just bragging rights for the team that wins. Blue won – I was on team blue…

But this meet isn’t about winning.

It’s about all the other stuff that makes sport so special: camaraderie, inspiration, empowerment, fun, accomplishment, and motivation.

It was pretty cool to see and hear people cheering each other on and to listen to the conversations people were having. As I sat in the stands between my events I heard a lot of “great job – you looked smooth” or “you really have improved your technique” or “well done – what’s your next event?”.

The cool thing about a swim meet is you pay one fee and can sign up for as many races as you want. (Okay, at least this is how it’s been at the two meets I’ve done. I think there is a maximum number of events – but this is just a small detail. The point being – it’s like a swimmer’s buffet – swim as much as you can or want to.)

I swam in the 100 meter and 50 meter events for freestyle, backstroke, and breaststroke and I swam the 50 meter backstroke leg of the IM medley relay.

This was a lot. I didn’t have much rest between events. But this also made it a lot of fun. There was never any time to get bored or to dwell on one swim result.

I had zero expectations for the breaststroke and backstroke events – I didn’t even know my predicted times. So there was zero pressure. I just got in the water and swam as hard as I could.

I did have one major goal – don’t get disqualified for messing up the start or the turns. And success – I made it – goal accomplished – no disqualifications.

I took a look at my results this morning. Yep, I’m happy with them. The freestyle times were slower than I would have liked. But oh well. Three weeks ago my back was so sore I could barely walk. So I’m just happy to have been able to swim.

But here’s the thing, the times don’t even really matter. The best part about this meet was how it made me feel.

I felt proud. I’m proud of myself for doing it. It’s not an easy thing to do. And I could have so easily talked myself out of doing it. But I didn’t. I did it. It was everything I needed.

I needed to see and feel the empowering vibes of that swim meet. I needed to see people going for it. It really is so special to experience sport this way – everyone is welcome, regardless of age, experience, or ability. Just come out, put on your suit and goggles, get in the water, swim back and forth.

I can’t wait for the Winterlude meet in February. I’m already thinking about what events I want to do.

This is a video of me swimming the 100 meter breaststroke. I’m the person who didn’t dive off the blocks – I started in the water. One day I’ll be diving off the blocks.