The Up Side of Cancer

1. No bad hair days.

2. You feel so crappy some days you no longer mess with the toilet paper holder. Your husband doesn't complain, and even acts downright thankful when you place the Costco 6 roll bulk pack of tissue near the toilet for everyone's use. Notice...one end is open. How thoughtful of me!

Have at, family!


3. When you notice grown adults rudely staring at the lumpy, odd shaped port under your skin to no avail, you get to make the split decision to let it go or embarrass the crap out of them by screaming..."Take a picture...it's a port! I need it for chemotherapy woman!!!" I've taken both the high road and the low road and they both felt great.

4. You get to buy and/or make silly yummy cakes and cuss out cancer. Then you eat the entire cake by yourself because the family is too scared of your reaction to take a piece. I swear I found them in a huddle near the fridge one night trying to decide if it was worth the risk.

5. You get to love your sister and two brothers even more than you already did. (That's you, Dave, Danny and Carla.)

6. You get to see friends you haven't seen in years! You hear nearly bi-weekly from that awesome college roommate you always knew you should have called and written more often. (That's you, Lori.)

You get to laugh your butt off at lunch with old girlfriends that drove an hour + to see you when you ask one of them "Geez, it's been 10+ years, how did you meet your husband??....expecting the 'Through church, through a friend, or we grew up together response when she ever so dryly answers..."Oh, through a bunch of losers I dated right before him." Bwaaahahaha. (That's you, Kathy, Laura and Cara! Not to mention Sarah and Faith!)

You get to know people you mainly speak to online now-a-days! Thanks to April, Steph, Rachel, Char, Deb, Chris, Karen and so many others that leave so many encouraging comments.

6.a Oh, and the people who probably think they aren't that important but spend a brief 10 minutes of each day with me chatting about nonsense and our weekends? You learn that their concern means so much. (That's you.. Renea, Emily and Julie.)

6.b And, to those friends you stopped hearing from all together with the diagnosis 6 months ago? You get to patiently hold your tongue and listen to their stories that they haven't known what to say, or no stories at all because you STILL haven't heard from them. Sigh. Either way, you learn a lot about your friendships...and that's a good thing.

7. You find that good friends actually listen when you say "Keep talking about normal stuff! I want to know about your co-worker that is driving you crazy! I don't want to talk about ME... or CANCER... all the time!!!" (That's you...Paula, Eric and family, Lee, Kathryn, Diane...too many to count.)

8. At some point you get to scream "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS!!!!" and chop all your hair off yourself. It's liberating...and something a sane person wouldn't normally do unless he or she had this disease or one similar. Admit it, we've all wanted to chop our hair off at some point in our life when it just wouldn't mind. Now I have the perfect excuse.

8a You buy a bulk size container of Herbal Essences in March...and it only moves this much by June. Cost savings!!!



9. Food you probably shouldn't be eating anyway starts to taste really, really bad.

10. Food you probably shouldn't eat anyway starts to look really, really good. (That's you... Taco Bell.)

11. Your children tell you 16 times a day how beautiful you are, making you paranoid they've been prompted by someone. Who cares...it's still very sweet.

12. You become a millionaire by buying stock in Kleenex Co. Without nose hair? The amount I use each day is enough to make each stockholder rich.

13. No more expensive and painful eyebrow pluckings, and my arms are slick as butter. I could become an Olympic swimmer.

14. I thank Jesus every single day that although I will come through this, my small child was not stricken with it. Every mother says "I would take this from you if I could...." and I'm so thankful I don't have to say that.

Treatment was fine yesterday, and so was the testing on my head. :) I'm just as kooky as they expected me to be when they put me in the MRI machine. One more chemo to go. Love to all. :)

Cathy