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.
