Having cancer is an opportunity to reinvent, and in so many contexts. And for me, it has certainly been in ‘good’ ways and not-so-good ways. I am maybe wiser but I am definitely a lot older too. The drugs are doing such a marvellous job of shrinking my tumour, but also of accelerating the ageing process.
I would prefer my physical transformation to at least slow down. Otherwise at this rate I will have skipped the entire middle-age chapter of my life and fast-forwarded to being elderly. Even my ipad fails to recognise my face anymore and my phone will not acknowledge my (presumably wrinkled) fingertips. It’s not that I mind getting old as such, but I do mind getting old before my time.
Maybe wearing something distractingly lovely and joyful could help? A bit? If I can cover myself up from the neck, right down to my ankles and my wrists, in a beautiful kimono, then the sight of me might be about 90% less alarming? If I put on a face mask, this disguise might be 92% effective. Or I could somehow roll myself into a ball of kimono-ness and just completely ‘disappear’ that way. Perfect.
I have read that a cherry blossom pattern is a wise choice for a kimono, as it symbolises new beginnings (Yes!), renewal (Yes!), beauty (Yes!) and the transience of life (Ooh… maybe!). It’s also a symbol of good fortune (Yes!) and longevity (Maybe, if I am in good enough health!). Apparently, kimonos traditionally come with a pretty bold claim too. They ‘live’ in the realm of the immortal and exist for over a thousand years. This may be a miraculous garment indeed. What a discovery!
So, it seems that I am likely to safely outlive my guaranteed appliances after all - but probably not a new and eternally-existing kimono. Kimonos are in a league of their own. They are like hospital gowns, only with magic built in! Wonderful! It feels like time to invest in a colourful, chemo kimono then!
