Handling Things Well

Not that kind of Händel.

One of the comments I get a lot when people find out I have cancer is: "You're handling this so well!" I love to hear it. It makes me feel strong and guru-like. Only one problem.

It. Is. A. Lie.

I can put on a good face for the public, most of the time. In the privacy of my home? Not so much. I can't count the number of times I've sobbed for what felt like hours at a time. I whinge constantly (did you like my use of whinge? It makes me feel smart to use unexpected words. Have I mentioned yet that I'm a total dork?). I yell and scream at my kids, at my wife (who takes care of me so well, and somehow loves me in spite of my many failings), sometimes at random strangers.

This is me, except not nearly as cool.

I've mentioned before (I think) that I'm arrogant, and that my ego revolves around my brain. I'm pretty sure I also shared that chemo messes with the mind. What I haven't mentioned is how difficult it is to deal with someone who is constantly trying to be smart when they clearly are not.

When I just let go and don't fight the fog, I tend to do much better. The strain of trying to cut through the chemo makes it so much worse.

And yet...

Almost every minute of every day I'm making the attempt to overcome that mental glitch. I know the people closest to me are going to suffer because of it, yet I continue to do it. I'm doing it right now. I've posted a couple of samples of chemo brain at work, but even in those moments I'm not positive that I wasn't still putting a spin on it. I so badly don't want to appear foolish.

I am terrified most of the time. There have been extended periods of time when I didn't leave my bedroom. I forced my family to run and fetch every little thing for me, because I didn't want to get out of bed. I totally could have. I made everything about me.

Which brings me to my vanity. I am vain. Really vain. I think I'm way better looking than I am.

In my mind, this is what I look like. Minus the hair.
Dammit.

Who suffers due to that vanity? Once again, the people closest to me bear the brunt of it.

It's bad enough that it borders on (or maybe crosses the line) into insanity. One of the major issues with chemo is the nausea. Oftentimes, cancer patients will lose dangerous amounts of weight in a short time. Not me. I've gained weight.

If this were about my heath, I would be grateful for the fact that I've managed to eat through the nausea, knowing that it will likely get worse. Instead, I came up with a cockamany plan. I mentioned in a different post that I had discovered a protein shake that I enjoy drinking.  My plan was to only consume those shakes. I have cancer and wanted to go on what amounts to a starvation diet. Not for heath, but because I wanted to look good.

So far in my treatments, I haven't lost my beard (I lost my hair a long time ago--nothing to do with chemo), my eyebrows or my eyelashes. I've been really lucky in that regard.

I seriously contemplated delaying treatments to make sure that trend continues.

The painful truth is that my chemo side effects are pretty mild compared to so many who go through this treatment. And yet my complaints box is full to overflowing.

You now know. I still hope you tell me that I'm dealing with this so bravely, because it feels good to hear.

But between you and me, there's not a lick of truth to it.
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Next up--Ben moves from the living room into the bathroom.

Did I mention that cancer makes you super stealthy? Well, it totally does.
Also, Arrested Development is one of my all-time favorite shows,
if I haven't mentioned it.

Next post.