Band-aids, Dory and Dad…

All kids get em… cuts, scratches and scrapes. Inevitably a band-aid always helps them feel better. Most of you might not know that I am the son of immigrants. My parents came over from England in the early 1950s. In our house we wore jumpers, supported Manchester United, spoke The Queen’s English and either took a lift or went up and down the apples and pears, but I digress. In our house they were not band-aids…we called them a “plaster”. We always had to get those nasty cheap fabric ones. I remember they were called Elastoplast, and to take them off was akin to having a limb removed without anesthesia. My father would always say the same thing “get on with it, I will count to three and pull it off quickly, it won’t hurt as much”. I fell for it every time. Dad would start counting; one, two…He never, ever got to 3. Somehow the early rip, tear, pull was supposed to help. It never did. My Dad passed away two years ago. He was an amazing man. I know if he was here my daily chemo ritual would be different, more regimented. Everyday I wash my red, sore splotchy face before I apply my chemo cream. There is a window of time, a few minutes of trepidation in between the stinging face wash and even more painful cream application. I imagine my dad standing beside me. I can hear him in his ever so eloquent British voice, “get on with it”. I know Dad, just gimme a minute…I can do it, I got this. I miss him terribly. 

 Today is a beautiful winter day with brilliant sunshine. That means another indoor day for me and the cat. She never goes outside and I am not supposed to let any sun hit my face while using Fuorouracil 5% chemotherapy. That’s okay, me and go-kart Mozart can check out the weather charts to see if it was safe outside (streaming 70s music today). I gotta tell you, I loved last night. We hung out with a fire and watched Finding Dory with the kids…and the one lesson that kept coming up in the movie was “keep swimming”. It is good advice. Keep swimming. It’s all good, I got this. 
Thanks for stopping by, day 13. Call your Mom and Dad πŸ™‚
God bless,



Author: ianmn

FOX 9 Chief Meteorologist Ian my life, love my wife, love my daughters and love my dog...kinda like the cat. I am the #stayskyaware dude.

19 thoughts on “Band-aids, Dory and Dad…”

    1. isn’t it funny how many memories we have and they all come to surface when we need them the most. So thankful you can recover at home. Having family around is the best medicine and it sounds like you have a great support team; I may not be family but I pray for you every day

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Hi Ian I’m just another rube following your blog and feel your strength through your words. “Well done ” as my daughters soccer coach use to say frequently. You got this.
    MH South of the river guy.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My husband had to do the same regiment a few years ago. Skin cancer runs in his family – some of his siblings have had to do the same. You’ve got this! And if any consolation, your face will be baby soft and new :).

    I had surgery in September and spent all of fall confined to my bed 3/4 of my day and most of our winter so far not venturing far. Lots of time for contemplating life and looking forward to more – wishing you all the best in your recovery!

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  3. I absolutely lose your outlook on life! I feel for you and wish you didn’t have to go through the pain of chemo. Having to apply it to yourself has to be so much harder than having someone else do it on their schedule. Keep your sense of humor Ian! We are all here for you, even though we are random unknown people…we are the ones that know YOU, and care about you, because you come into out homes every day/night. We are the ones praying for you and holding you up every day/night!!!!

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  4. You are a very funny weatherman BUT most of all you are a father~ friend ~husband etc… you can do this and be back with us soon keep your pops in your thoughts it will help you he will help you ~~~take care of you first !! Then help us like you have for many years!

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  5. I wish there was something I could do to ease your pain. I will certainly send prayers your way. I look forward to reading your blogs to see how you are doing and because your words have become an inspiration to me. God bless you and your family.

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  6. It’s a beautiful day! Unfortunately I can’t get out either, because nobody wants to come and get me. Oh well, enuf bout me. I’m sorry that this beautiful sun is bad for you, look for the time when you can enjoy the sun again!

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  7. My mother had 2 major strokes in the last 8 monyhs and is now immobile. I need to go back to IV chemo tomorrow as the pills do not work for me. This will be the first one that my mom won’t be there with me. Thank God for parents and hug them to your heart. You never know how long anyone has. Keep Swimming…πŸ‘πŸŸπŸ πŸ¬πŸ¦ˆπŸ³πŸ‹

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  8. Ian – I can’t believe you were born in England! I was born in Middlesborough, England and we immigrated to Winnipeg in 1952 – it is a small world. My dad, until the day he left us to be with the Lord, still sounded like he just got off the boat. Apples and Pears – heard that all the time. They were wonderful parents and I miss them dearly. Hang in there my fellow “Brit” – halfway done.

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  9. I lost my mom in 2013 and my dad in 2014. It sucks being a member of the Dead Parents Club. I wish I could say it gets easier. But it doesn’t. I miss mine every day. But I am a firm believer that they are always with me. Just as your dad is always with you and I am sure he IS standing beside you, giving you strength. Just keep swimming, Ian.

    Liked by 1 person

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