Even though two new chemo treatments started today–> It didn’t suck. After sticking the IV in my as-sad-as-saying-goodbye vein, the nurse quickly explained everything about my new chemo treatment. “You are going to be bald in approximately seventeen days.” This did not make me cry because my husband and I have been having our own kind of you-are-going-to-be-bald therapy for at least twenty days in a row.
My fingers and toes will probably become numb as well, which means cutting myself while cooking isn’t going to hurt. Another plus is losing weight. Please, do not be angry. I can say anything because I have cancer and having cancer means I’m always right. This is how I feel, so it must be true.
Baylor doctors are sweet to cancer people because they print and sign a wig prescription. That’s right. Having a wig prescription means being able to go to a fancy Highland Park wig store to purchase a wig without paying for all of it. The insurance company cannot discriminate against bald people. It’s just not right. My wig is going to be regular. This wig of total hair importance is going to help my scalp become warm during the winter. This special wig is also going to help school children not become frightened when I arrive for important PTA duties. Being involved in the Parent-Teacher-Association while having hair equals total PTA volunteer joy, in my parental opinion.
There is so much about cancer that I, as a previous non-cancer person, was clueless about. It means your world is turned completely upside down whether you like it or not. Cancer reveals whether or not priorities are properly in place. The first thing to do is hug your significant other for at least twelve minutes. I don’t even want to think about what I would be doing if my husband was not sticking solidly by my side. I’d be lost, confused, and hopeless. If you do not have a human handy, then I suggest jumping on the online dating wagon– fast– because having a husband during cancer easily makes life worth living.
Things My Husband Does to Help Cancer Not Completely Suck:
1. Drives me to every single appointment, minus one appointment because I had three in one day
2. Hugs me in the closet when I start crying because internal radiation is a form of mental and physical torture
3. Says I will be beautiful as a bald girl
4. Unpacks my suitcase when we go to chemo
5. Plugs in my iPad charger before grabbing apple juice and snacks from the chemo snack area
6. Drives to the grocery store to buy Blue Bell ice cream and mini Kit Kats— day or night
7. Takes me to get tuna salad sandwiches even when he has four business meetings in a row
8. Reminds me that things could be so much worse
9. Promises to buy me a cancer survivor t-shirt the very second I become a cancer survivor