Cancer Girl

For the last 10 months, every moment of every day was consumed with having cancer and everyone who looked at me saw someone who was unwell and struggling, Cancer Girl. I resented that that was all they saw. Then I made a discovery this week, that's all I can think about, talk about, dream about. It is still my focus. I am still Cancer Girl.

When will I feel better? When will I look normal? Will it come back and if it does, what happens to my eyebrows this time?

Everything and everybody looks and feels different. I get up in the morning and calculate how many hours before I can go back to bed. It is exhausting to be the new me.

I went to a "retreat" last week with my work colleagues. Besides the fact that I was unable to participate in many of the events that required walking on ropes and jumping off a telephone pole (I'm serious people), I felt somewhat out of it. Didn't these people know I had cancer? How could we talk about anything else? And truthfully, I didn't mention it even once, but I realized that it left me with little conversation.

I mean how long can you discuss the lesser known works of Jane Austen. I knew, however, I was really out of it when a friend told me a story and I noted how much it reminded me of an incident on Golden Girls.

So last evening, when a friend called and wanted to go shopping, I went. Even though it cut into my Everybody Loves Raymond viewing. We talked about my cancer, but we talked about lots of other things as well. We talked. We commiserated. We bought shoes. Because that's what normal people do, whether they've had cancer or not.