I have this feeling that my hair is growing rather then falling out. It seems to be longer today then yesterday which is not exactly how I want this whole thing to go down. It is great in some ways because when I’m out and about with my new shaven head there is still some question to the exact motivation of my hair status. I could just as easily be some alternative punk type or just someone with cancer.
I had an interesting experience at Shoppers Drugmart today. I went in to ask for some help choosing make-up products that could create pretend eyebrows and lashes. I confessed my reasoning behind the search to the cosmetics lady, who suddenly transformed into my own personal cancer cheerleader. The whole experience was super uncomfortable. Saying that, I do find it interesting that almost everyone I meet has some story about a new mother finding breast cancer just after her baby is born. In some sense it’s nice to feel like I’m not alone and to find how many people seem to be affected by this.
The situation gets uncomfortable for me when the well meaning sales lady/ personal cancer cheerleader goes into a pitch about how many people she knows have lived 20 years after diagnosis. “Yes but did they have stage 4 cancer” keeps repeating in my head as the woman tells me I’m going to be just fine and how much I have to live for. Anyway, the experience wraps up neatly with me keeping my incurable cancer staging to myself, nodding politely and accepting a giant bag of free samples complete with a prolonged slightly uncomfortable hug from a stranger. She left the situation feeling like she had helped someone in need and I left reminded that things are not going to be okay, and I have a long journey ahead.
Everything the sales person was doing was well meaning and thoughtful. The problem for me is having to face my difficult and very uncertain future as I stand in the make-up department in front of a total stranger. The whole time i’m politely leading her to believe that what she is saying is not only true but helping me. When I’m hugging her, it’s not to make myself feel better as she would believe. I’m hugging her for her. It might have been better to ask her about how to keep goth eyebrows make-up from smudging, allowing me to get the beauty tips I need without the reality check I didn’t want. Saying that, I doubt punk girl would have left with the giant bag of samples that cancer girl got.
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