June 4, 2007 § 12 Comments
We’re all challenged; ears too large for our face, bellies too big for our backs, tender knees, overactive thyroids, and delicate hearts. Any number of afflictions befall us. They can be physical or psychological. I know people with both. They slow us down, they bring things to a halt.
Maybe yours causes bloating.
I integrate my disadvantages by disguising them as fashion statements.
“Fantastic haircut” I heard that recently in the ladies room
I‘ve been out, for business and for pleasure. It’s amazing what a snappy outfit, large earrings and lipstick will do.
“You look so chic” Perfect since I was dining at a Manhattan hot spot.
I have successfully concealed my cancer. My hair is growing. Everywhere. Not necessarily everywhere I want it. I seek out situations with good lighting.
My eyebrows were a surprise. Overnight a rush of charcoal punctuated my face. The reunion with my eyelashes followed. It was lovely.
I forgot I was sick. I started to plan. I planned to take a week off in mid-August. Seven easy days in Maine. Frannie would go to day camp and I’d make art with paper and pulp and images from my recent passage; bandages and bras.
I forgot about the mastectomy, I brushed off the radiation. I planned my fabulous summer. At some point I’d think about a bathing suit, or choose a T-shirt.
Then I received an email from my radiation oncologist and instead of a drive to the north shore, I boarded sonic transport to outrage. I didn’t expect to go there, I barely noticed the mileage. One moment I was at the computer, the next I was out of my mind uttering a language familiar when bleeped.
The mastectomy would mess with my bathing suits, but radiation would undo my vacation plans. Adding insult to injury, earlier in the week my oncologist was flummoxed. He wondered why was I seeing a physical therapist between surgeries. Gaining maximum mobility in my arm didn’t impact survival rates, so what was the point.
Outrage looks like every place else but it feels like fire and a rabid pit bull.
I am trying to live with my affliction. Then, some so and so reminds me that I can’t vacation as usual and worse some other suit with stethoscope seems to think reclaiming my range of motion is extreme.
I entered outrage earlier this week and have stayed here hissing. I can’t seem to find my way back to chill. I may go from outrage to mastectomy and remain in outrage. Since radiation follows, I might just spend the summer there.
While the bluefish are on a feeding frenzy, it may make sense to stay clear of my wake as well.
Short hair and a tough expression, it’s all the rage.