Tis the season to be jolly. Mince pies, christmas pudding, chocolates, cakes, buns, biscuits, caramel treats....all sorts of lovliness. Pity I feel like barfing.
December and I feel Scroogie. I'm having a major Scroogie moment where all I want to do is banish Tiny Tim to the cold store and ration his lumps of coal to just one. Bah Humbug!
In the library the other day, I hesitated in taking my hat off - what is it? always with the hair - I was tired and didnt know if I had the energy to expose myself again. Dont worry, the only thing I was exposing was my head but still, its a heralding of my 'condition'. There were two computers across the way being used, one girl, she barely glanced at me. The other, and I have somehow developed a sixth sense about these things contained two ladies, relatively mature, in their mid forties. The hat comes off. I perceive them looking, their heads dip together, I hear them whisper, can periferally see them consult then both look up. Right...I feel particularly evil, so I look up and swivel my head, Damien-style and stare right at them....I see you, I mentally scream..and I know you're talking about me....HOW RUDE!
The older of the two offers a watery pity smile before bowing her head again. The younger lady can't even look at me. I glare...if only it was capable of running a small generator....this glare of mine...I would never need to pay an electricity bill again. BAH HUMBUG to you ladies and your badly permed updo!
I had a mini-pity party yesterday, just a mini one. It lasted for around three minutes. Thankfully, it was short lived. There was a girl in the coffee shop (Oh how we like to beat ourselves with the sticks of other people's perfection), she was gorgeous, I mean totally gorgeous, the most amazing flowing locks of coffee coloured hair, shiny and luscious, a walking advert for L'oreal 'Cause I'm Worth It!'. She had legs which went on forever, a waist the size of a thimble and the face...well, she turned around at the last minute, just when I was sheepishly, in a moment of weakness, reaching for my beanie cap to cover my patchy bald head. It was almost automatic, my tretcherous hand was inching its way, automaton across the table, in a real jesture of betrayal. Anyway, back to this Amazonia goddess, she was lovely, really really lovely, until she turned around and I realised, hey, she is just normal. Like all women. She has her flaws. It made me feel instantaneously better when I realised that she was not a reincarnation of a female Adonis. Shallow I know.
My hair has started to grow back. And its started to fall out. AGAIN! At the same time...how is this even possible? So I have new tufts of growth, like willowy rushes on my hair, interspersed with bald..... so amazingly attractive and a great conversation started, especially with complete strangers in the que at the supermarket. Though it does get a bit weird if they ask to touch it.
I think now that my hair is growing back and that I'm coming to the end of my chemo...yippeeeeee...I feel like Im about to re-embark into the real world again and I'm scared.
I'm not the same person I was six months ago, I can't just pick up the pieces and reboot my life. It will never be the same again. I will never be the same again.
I have the minor detail of radiotherapy to go through and five years of tamoxifen but the completion of the chemo seems to be the milestone, the marker for the road to recovery. Don't get me wrong, I'm setting my Sat Nav to that road and I'm high tailing it onto that track but I wonder what type of person I will be when I get onto that road. I wonder if I have lost a little of myself along the way?
It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't gone through all of this. I mourn the loss of a lot of things and especially the loss of the little bits of me that I won't be able to get back. I don't know if I will ever be able to walk into a room with the same confidence as before, to be able to approach situations the same way. This whole cancer business has left an unsightly mark, in actuality and figuratively on me and I needed a little time to shed a pseudo tear for the once Amazon within me. I will never be that way again, I've turned around in the coffee que so to speak and Ive realised that we are all not so different.
I wish it was over, properly over now, not just the last day of the chemo session but the ten days after where you feel particularly shit. But soon, soon, I will be reaching the end of my Everest climb.
Roll on christmas, some home cooking, some sleep, some mum and dad time and some well deserved rest.
Happy Christmas everyone. C x
