Confessions of a Cancer Patient

Sometimes unloading a random heap of honesty is just what the doctor ordered.  Ready? 

I’m not an optimistic person generally speaking.  But I’m surprisingly optimistic about my cancer.
I would rather be in a live show like Rent or Cats or whatever than to go and see it.  But I like dressing up and going to dinner!  And I like dancing.  Shows with lots and lots of dancing are the exception.  Also, I love the circus.  
Hair styles that haven’t changed since 1987 just amaze me.  I stare because I just can’t believe it.  Does no one say anything or do these people love it so much, they can’t part ways with their feathered mullet?
I think it’s weird when you post a bazillion pics of your girls night out that seems to happen every few days.  New Years? Fine.  Bachelorette party? Sure.  But…Tuesday, August 14th?  Are the duck faces supposed to make us believe you are all very happy?  They generally cause me to assume the opposite.  I see the emptiness behind the mascara, Girl.  
I will never relate to the pages in my InStyle magazine that encourage me to spend $1,600 on a fur bedazzled wrap as an “investment piece.”  I mean…who is doing this?  I would like to give them a tour of the homeless shelter where I work even as I am encumbered a bit by CANCER.  Buy pretty things, yes.  Things that make you feel a little special and cherished.  But don’t buy outrageously impractical things with any kind of regularity when kids don’t have enough food and people are still dying of diseases.  Your money can be so powerful if you use it well!  
Mayonnaise is terrible.  Look at it!  It’s awful.

If you eat it, I like you a little bit less and wonder what on earth is wrong with you.  I am capable of loving you, still.  But you may not live in my house.
I do not understand the sense behind plopping our kids on a strange, elderly man’s lap to talk about toys and candy.  It’s pretty weird when you think about it. 
I mean, ummmmm…?

I think my hair has not fallen out yet because it is afraid of me.  
I barfed blueberry oatmeal all over my entire bathroom during post-chemo round 2. 

 It was so icky, sticky and nasty, one of the cats came by, poked his nose in, then shrunk back, backed out the door and ran away.
So, those are today’s confessions.  Hope they made you laugh or feel less alone.