We need cancer because, by the very fact of its insurability, it makes all other diseases, however virulent, not cancer. ~ Gilbert Adair
It dawned on me this morning that, somewhere in the reptilian part of my brain, I still believe that I'm sick and, therefore, weird looking. It's hard to get over the feeling when you've spent most of a year looking like you're getting ready to die. Then there was that 7 weeks when I wasn't allowed to wear a bra because of radiation. I wore shirts over my tee shirts to try to camouflage the remaining (unsupported) girl. That was really depressing. I just had to stop looking at myself in order to pretend it didn't matter to me.
In reality, my hair is growing back really quickly. I was still pretty bald in July when I finished up radiation and now it's probably about an inch long. It's curly, thicker and much darker than my hair used to be. The hair on the rest of my body is coming back really slowly, but that's okay with me.
I also now have some color in my face. During chemo and radiation, I was just white the whole time, with dark circles under my eyes. My face was completely round because of the steroids they used. So there you are...a white, moon-faced bald person with dark circles under my eyes. Wow. I've never looked so attractive. I gave up the desire to wear make up or nice clothes. Partly it was because I just didn't have the energy, but it was also because I just hated the way I looked. There wasn't really anything that could be done to make me look better, anyway.
I've been wearing makeup for the past couple of weeks and I've even worn some skirts and dresses to work. I'm not getting much joy out of it, though. My therapist asked me last week if I was excited about being able to dress up again. Um, no. I wish I were, but I'm not. Throughout the past year of treatment, I always assumed I'd be happy to be able to dress up again. It's just another one of the many assumptions I've given up.
I just realized yesterday that it's time for my three month checkup. I think that's part of the reason why I noticed how unattractive I feel. I try not to think about cancer until I have to. It makes me so anxious to even think about going to M.D. Anderson. I feel a little queasy and a lot of dread. I'm sure everything will be okay, but I'll have to manage my thoughts until I go. My appointment is scheduled for next Thursday.
That means I'll be incommunicado for a while next week. On that note, I need to write a long email to the attorney who lives next door. I've decided to talk with him about the breast cancer diagnosis. They had been watching the cancer grow for some period of time. I did my part...I did monthly self exams and annual mammograms. Well, I'll save that for another day.
