Don't show your face again

I’d like to preface this entry with a disclaimer, I’m a bit of a negative-nancy today.

I went for my routine blood tests and scans (bone, chest, ultrasound) last Friday. It should be a few days before I get my results back, until that time I’ll be doing my best to remember to breathe.

When I was still being treated at the hospital, I felt so safe there. When I’d be home puking up my innards, running a high fever, mouth shredded from chemo – and my doctor would tell me that I had to be admitted in-patient, it comforted me. I’d whine about it externally, but honestly it was comforting knowing that I was in route to be in the hands of people the cared and had the knowledge and calm demeanor to settle my rattling nerves. It was exciting to see which nurse would be mine for the night, always hoping for a favorite and catching up with them.

Cancer can make you feel independent and singled out but the hospital gives you a common ground. You’re surrounded with other families dealing with the same worries, and seeing the children was no longer as heart breaking for me as it was initially. And maybe that sounds cruel but I just mean that I looked at them more like allies rather than something so foreign and sad.

Having said all that, going back to that place post-cancer has had the opposite effect on me, which I didn’t expect at all. My sense of smell has heightened ten-fold since chemo. If someone has the slightest tinge of body odor or a warm, greasy scalp – I can smell it from across the room. The second I walk into that hospital I’m engulfed with scents that bring back uncomfortable memories. The bathroom soap, hand sanitizer dispensers, latex gloves, kitchen, paper towels – everything makes my mouth salivate in that about-to-throw-up kind of way.

When you are checked into the hospital, even for just scans, you are given a white band with your name and ID# to place around your wrist. When you walk through the halls with your family or visitors, I noticed that it’s common for other passer-by-ers to drop their eyes down to your wrist level to see who it is that has the unfortunate diagnosis of cancer. I’m guilty, too. I noticed that after people see your band, they will give you a smile and a tilt of a head with eyes that say “I feel sad for you, but I am going to treat you like a normal person and acknowledge you with this sincere smile”. Which is a nice gesture but actually infuriates me sometimes. Like smiling at someone with an obvious disfigurement or handicap. I think maybe this bothers me because society today is not normally as friendly under normal circumstances. Example, many times if I am just walking down the street or holding a door for someone I will smile and I find that it’s not uncommon to not get a “thank you” or a smile back in return.

I sound bitter today huh? This is obviously some kind of inner battle I have going on inside of myself. I thought it would help to put it to words. During my treatment I did my best to react to everything gracefully. In terms of my appearance, attitude, words, etc. In public I think I hid the fact that I was sick very well. I don’t like pity or “aw eyes” directed at me. So by looking “normal” in the hospital and wearing that wristband, it’s like my secret was out. That wristband is my gossip, my story. No matter how much weight I’ve put back on and how full my eyebrows and eyelashes grow in, I still have to wear that wristband each visit and people will know the truth. And not that I am ashamed of the experience or think that it is a top mission secret, but I think I am uncomfortable with the fact that this is something I can never get away from. Something that is out of my hands and not something I chose to participate in. I didn’t sign up for this.

I think what sparked all this hostility was learning about the health condition of a girl that my family became close with. Previous to cancer, she already had a full plate with other health complications. Her body didn’t handle the chemo well and she wasn’t able to go through with surgery to remove her tumor and the cancer has now spread. It makes me sick to my stomach and angry at how unfair all of this really is.

I think that attitude plays a huge part into the wellness of anyone with a beating heart, and it’s no different for someone with cancer. When I was battling cancer I gave it a somewhat non-chalant attitude. I basically covered my ears and made “La La La not listening” sounds. Kind of ignoring the fact that I had this beast growing inside of me with the power to demolish my existence in a short period of time. I filled my days with family and friends and read a lot of books, wrote a lot. Etc. Now that the cancer is out, I find myself finally being able to be angry about the experience. Like the attacker is out of sight and I am not afraid to tell him how I feel.

If you return, I will kick your ass. (again)

Anyway, as you did for me – please keep positive thoughts for this girl and I will surely do the same.

PS,
Smile at a stranger today. If someone smiles at you, smile back. Say please, say thank you.

If there's one thing i've learned it's that one step at a time can make all the difference in this world...

Neil Armstrong said it best.