A Look at Myself

            I don’t know what I want to write about today.  One thing that has been on my mind is an incident that happened the other day.  As most of you know, I am bald because of chemotherapy.  I wear a hat when I am out in public.  As I was standing in line at a restaurant a young man reached in front of me and said, “Excuse me, sir.”  He called me sir.  I know I am bald, but I don’t think I look like a man.  I realize I don’t have the figure I once had due to a breast reduction, but I thought I still looked like a woman.  I wanted to respond.  I wanted to say, “I’m not a dude.  I have cancer.” Instead, I stood there quietly and looked away.  The word “sir” hurt.  I know I shouldn’t let it.  The young man didn’t mean anything by it. At least he was polite.  A lot of people don’t say “excuse me” anymore.  

            Cancer has changed my perspective on life.  It has made me value the time I do have.  Cancer has made me want to fight to live.  Through my diagnosis and treatment, I have found a fight in me that I didn’t know existed.  Cancer has changed me physically.  I am weak.  I can’t walk very far without getting fatigued.  It has left me with discolored skin.  I am now bald.  It’s this last piece that has me looking like a man.  Until this incident I thought I was okay with my hair loss.  Now, I wonder if I should get a wig.  When I lost my hair, I made the decision not to get a wig.  I told myself that even without hair I am still me.  I am the same person I was with hair.  Well, I am still a woman.  

            This young man had no idea how much his words impacted me.  My cousin, Sara, and my friend, Maria, encouraged me when I told them what had happened.  They helped me focus on the fact that it was just an unobservant person trying to be polite.  They told me I look fine.  I am trying to believe them.  

            As I write this, my nose has begun to bleed.  Another reminder of the cancer.  Will it ever stop?  Will the reminders always be there?  

I cleaned up the blood and returned to my computer screen.  Still, it is annoying.  Cancer has changed me in more ways than I want to admit.  Yes, it has changed my perspective on life.  I value my life more.  Unfortunately, I also have more fears.  Every pain I feel makes me question if it is cancer.  My mind is consumed by the thought that someday the cancer will take my life.  I am waiting on blood work results.  My mind is telling me that the results haven’t come back yet because it is bad news.  I know that is ridiculous.  It probably just takes time to get the results.  Yet, my mind seizes every opportunity to think the worst.  Some of it is my anxiety disorder.  I am aware of that.  Cancer just added another layer to my anxiety.

            I know I should call about the results, but my mind is debating that.  If I don’t call, I won’t receive bad news.  On the other hand, if do call I might find relief.  What do I do?  I sit here unsure of my next step.  I write about it.  Get it all out on the page.  As I mentioned in my last post, writing is healing for me.  I am not sure if what I am writing now is healing or if it is just distracting me.  

            Cancer has changed me in good ways and bad ways.  I need to work on coping with all the changes.  That is why I attend a support group.  It is why I have a mental health team.  It is why I lean on family and friends.  I can’t do this alone.  Fighting illness requires a team approach.