At a recent birthday party, I was introduced to the friend of a friend of a cousin. She is very young. She is strikingly pretty. She has breast cancer. I spoke to her for some time. I can’t get the conversation out of my head. It made me think about my life, not so very long ago, when I had cancer. It’s rare that I speak about that time. It feels forbidden, like if given too much cerebral real estate, it could autonomously populate my body again. I do think about it often, though. Every day. I mean, it was my life. Just like my “normal” life these days, my cancer life ran the gamut of emotions. There were sad times, woe is me times, amazing times, and even some hilarious times – exactly like any other era of my life. Cancer days, though, were in black and white. There was a dark cloud over me, a Kansas tornado. I wouldn’t see in Technicolor again until it dropped me on the yellow brick road to remission. But, there were funny times, I tell ya. Take, for instance, wig shopping.
I wound up on YouTube recently, watching wig try on videos. That’s a thing. You can watch HOURS of videos of people trying on wigs, styling wigs, altering wigs, creating baby hairs on wigs (turns out baby hairs are really important), and even doing complicated, fanciful braids on wigs. I fell down a wig rabbit hole. Turns out, people wear wigs nowadays, just for pleasure. That’s not how I remember the wig world eleven years ago. In August, 2008, I had my first chemo treatment. I was in the TC/TAC clinical trial, affectionately referred to as the Tic Tac trial.
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