The look of cancer
It’s funny that the previous entry was Race for the Cure, because now, looking at it, I do feel like I’m in my own race for the cure. Or at least, race for the remission. Tomorrow I go to Sloan-Kettering, where, I’m hoping, they will tell me that 1) I am on the right treatment regimen, and 2) they have a perfect vaccine that they want to test out on me. Ok, so maybe just one of those will happen. But you never know.
I don’t know if anyone has read Leroy Sievers’ blog called “My Cancer.” He is a journalist and TV producer and he occasionally reads his entries on NPR. The site is http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/
It’s a really amazing blog about living with cancer. Today’s entry was about appearances, and it’s coincidental because it’s something that’s been on my mind too. My TV appearance last week, for example, showed a very healthy-looking woman whose facade belied the disease that is ravaging her body. I do feel this enormous disconnect between what I look like on the outside, and what’s going on inside. I don’t even know what’s going on inside, but it sure isn’t reflected by my outward appearance. Due in part to the type of chemo I’m on which saves my hair from falling out, I look normal. Everyone is always so surprised when I tell them I have metastatic cancer. “Well, you look great,” they say. I know this is a compliment, but sometimes I don’t know what to say. I’m glad that I look good and that I don’t look like Cancer Patient. I want to do everything to avoid that look. It’s not a good look.
I guess this is all just to say that what I’m hoping for is that my insides will begin to match my outsides, and not vice-versa. But I know that’s always a possibility. I know I need a haircut, but in the back of my mind, I wonder if, a month from now, I’ll have any hair at all. But I might as well get the hair cut. My world if filled with these kinds of decisions. Do I use wrinkle cream? Do we plan a vacation for 2008? But even though that little voice questions it, I continue to use the wrinkle cream and to make plans. I have to. So I’ll get my hair cut and look good and pretend on the outside like I don’t have cancer. Maybe by doing things like that, I can trick the cancer itself into thinking everything is normal, and it will just go away…
I don’t know if anyone has read Leroy Sievers’ blog called “My Cancer.” He is a journalist and TV producer and he occasionally reads his entries on NPR. The site is http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/
It’s a really amazing blog about living with cancer. Today’s entry was about appearances, and it’s coincidental because it’s something that’s been on my mind too. My TV appearance last week, for example, showed a very healthy-looking woman whose facade belied the disease that is ravaging her body. I do feel this enormous disconnect between what I look like on the outside, and what’s going on inside. I don’t even know what’s going on inside, but it sure isn’t reflected by my outward appearance. Due in part to the type of chemo I’m on which saves my hair from falling out, I look normal. Everyone is always so surprised when I tell them I have metastatic cancer. “Well, you look great,” they say. I know this is a compliment, but sometimes I don’t know what to say. I’m glad that I look good and that I don’t look like Cancer Patient. I want to do everything to avoid that look. It’s not a good look.
I guess this is all just to say that what I’m hoping for is that my insides will begin to match my outsides, and not vice-versa. But I know that’s always a possibility. I know I need a haircut, but in the back of my mind, I wonder if, a month from now, I’ll have any hair at all. But I might as well get the hair cut. My world if filled with these kinds of decisions. Do I use wrinkle cream? Do we plan a vacation for 2008? But even though that little voice questions it, I continue to use the wrinkle cream and to make plans. I have to. So I’ll get my hair cut and look good and pretend on the outside like I don’t have cancer. Maybe by doing things like that, I can trick the cancer itself into thinking everything is normal, and it will just go away…
posted by Rachel Troxell at 10:21 PM
3 Comments:
I say you absolutely use the wrinkle cream, get the haircut and by all means plan your vacation for 2008. You are a fighter (as is your army), and we together will beat this. Rely on your strength and positive attitude to guide you. I think the blogger responders should help with suggestions on ideas for travel. It will be fun to see the various suggestions. I'll start. How about Muir Woods in San Fran? Now go make that hair appointment...
I can't speak to your interior illness. All I know about your insides is that there exists in there a beautiful woman who matches the beautiful woman on the outside. How about a trip to Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies, probably the most beautiful pleace I've ever been? I read a magazine article about it and it took me 20 years to get there, but it was well worth it - sky blue, vibrant green, turquoise blue water, white snow, clean air, peace. Maybe a sassy little streak of color when you get your hair done...
Well, You are a Diva and you damn straight look like one!
Lynn
Post a Comment
<< Home