Friday, February 6, 2009

I Got Nothing.

Yeah, I've really got nothing for you tonight. I'm pretty tired. I mostly worked today. But also, I've realized that my "Cancer Wins" concept (or the "Cancer Card" as the Cancer Vixen refers to it; and yes, that's her again on the left) doesn't actually work. That's just so my luck. I'm thinking it's worked twice in all of 7 weeks. Once with the aforementioned client and once when I asked JACK CLARKE (no idea if he Googles himself) to take over an emcee gig for me in April (and he would have done it even if I hadn't played the cancer card--he's just that way). But I've had a friend not able to get together because her spouse didn't think "cancer wins", an "opposing party" say "I'm sorry to hear that. And now, about me and the agreement I need" and today my older (bizarre on a good day) sister unsubscribed to my blog because she is, apparently, pissed off at me for suggesting that if she comes to the Birthday Boobie Bash on the 13th it would be good if she, you know, behaved herself. But she she's not going to see that I just said that, right? And unsubscribing must be the 2009 version of taking your ball and going home right? Except, I still have the it's the "I know you are but what am I" of ', that's not it, it's the '09 slammed door or hung-up phone? Oh yeah, and it's ridiculous and not at all in keeping with my "cancer wins" theory!! Particularly if it's followed by "anonymous" rude comments posted to the blog. Wait for it.....

On the brighter side, thanks for the recommendations on oncologists. Funny, no one called or emailed with a Riverside oncologist recommendation!! But, I do have an appointment with Dr. Bosserman in Rancho Cucamonga on Thursday. She was recommended by Dr. Glaspy and another friend whose mother was a patient of Dr. Bosserman. And although they originally told me two weeks, they managed to fit me in on Thursday. Now, I've really got to fill out that 1/2" of paperwork. And, my therapist is also in Rancho Cucamonga (you think I'm this calm, optimistic and well-balanced without professional help?) so my Thursday is looking pretty full.

And today I had my last hair cut of 2009 (and the natural blonde highlights were restored). I think my poor hairstylist is going to need more martinis than I am the night she shaves my head! From everything I've read and heard, it's better to just bite the bullet and shave the head after the first chemo treatment. Since I really don't want to be sitting at my desk or, my luck, in a meeting with a new client when suddenly clumps of hair fall out onto the desk or table, it just makes more sense to shave it off. I'm thinking at home on a Friday night with a big, big, big martini and a wig, scarf and all sorts of accessories readily available for warmth or humor or fashion or denial. Whichever is needed. But that just seems like an easier way to deal with it. Easier being relative of course. After all, the doctor guaranteed my hair would fall out. How often do you hear a doctor guarantee something?? So, I've got 4 maybe five more weeks of hair. After I get over the initial shock, I think I'm going to like being able to get ready in under two hours in the morning (hey, there's still coffee to be savored slowly each morning) and not spending money on hair care products and cut and color. Right, 'cuz I'll be spending it on wigs, co-pays, gas, parking fees and prescriptions.

Okay, that's a whole lot of nothing. And Chris is giggling away in the other room watching "Airplane." Which is just about perfect silliness right now.

Reporter: What kind of plane is it?
Johnny: Oh, it's a big pretty white plane with red stripes, curtains in the windows and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol

Speaking of I go.


  1. "Okay, that's a whole lot of nothing."

    NOT really! It's a whole lot of sadness and unhappiness about losing our hair... I'm (really) embarrassed to admit this (and only those that have been through it could possibly understand) but there were times I think I found it harder to accept the loss of my hair than I did the loss of my breast. Which made no sense; I knew the hair would grow back; the breast would not.

    You'll be ok, Teresa. But it won't be easy, I'd be lying if I said anything differently.

    "Humor can turn the unbearable into the bearable; the humiliating into the humbling; and the mundane into the unique."

    Kathy D.

  2. I like that advise above. You are so fortuante to have friends that have been through and have come through.
    Too bad (your sister) unsubscribed. It seemed to me that this situation, circumstance, predicament (I just love my thesaurus), okay "The Cancer" would have been a good oportunity FOR HER to make amends. But guess it wasn't in the cards!
    We are looking forward to your party and I will try my best to find something pink for your Dad!

  3. I commented on your Facebook version of this. Oh, and please post a picture of your Dad in pink...please! :o)

  4. Your posting wasn't about a whole lot of nothing, it was about a whole lot of pain and sadness and fear and the big question, "Why the hell did this happen to me?" Today I feel sad in my heart--I know what it's like to go through hell. No really. I really do know what it's like to go through hell. It's not fun and there is no rhyne nor reason for it (get it? I made a pun in the middle of being serious) (Sorry I felt I had to point that out to you, I know you have cancer, you're not stupid!). My hell is not the same as yours, but it is still hell. Just remember you got boobie pops and I did not.


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