What Would Michael Do?

Okay, not so much the happy, comforting kind of warm. I just have a fever. :-)

Why is it that the moment you are at your weakest — the moment you’ve realized that the full head of hair you’ve always enjoyed but quite frankly took for granted is gone — the TV decides to bombard you with a million and one shampoo and hair care product commercials? Eff that bullshit. All these beautiful women twirling around in slow motion, swinging their annoyingly beautiful hair all up in my face. Seriously, the TV is at least a few feet away and the girls aren’t really here and yet I SWEAR I can feel the hair brush up against my nose and mouth, mocking the crap out of me. If it were real, I wouldn’t hesitate to grab a hold of the hair and pull on it until the bitches looked like me.

I’m not bitter, though. ;-)

It’s sad and fascinating at the same time that I do not exactly recognize the person I see in the mirror. It’s also sad/fascinating that I’m steering clear of cameras/video recorders because I do not want to ever have evidence of me looking/feeling this way and I’m also trying to stay away from people as much as possible. I would rather get a hundred shots of neulasta than have to speak to anyone over the phone these days. And I mostly just want to be by myself.

All of this and yet I stand in front of the mirror for what seems like hours, making sure a mental picture of what this is doing to me is forever etched into my brain. And I crave human affection far more than I ever have in my entire life. I’m a walking contradiction. And I’m more bored than I could have ever imagined.

I wouldn’t say I’m a masochist exactly, but the other day I was making some breakfast and I accidentally burned myself. I looked at my forearm, where I had singed myself, studied it for a second, smiled to myself for no particular reason, and then I put my arm to the frying pan yet again! Why? I have no idea. I didn’t really want to burn myself but I feel like maybe I wanted to feel a different kind of pain to distract me from the pain I’ve been feeling both physically and emotionally due to the cancer. Yeah, I know, there may be some cutters out there reading this that are nodding their heads in agreement right about now like they know exactly what I mean. I promise you, I’m not making it a habit. Like I said, I thought it was quite fascinating once I took a step back and realized how ridiculous I’d been.

Sure did cure the boredom for a few seconds though. *shrugs* :-p

My friend Clarissa was hanging out with me for a bit today. We were watching TV and being lazy together when she randomly asked me which of my possessions she could have if I died. Mind you, we joke like this so I thought it was hilarious and immediately started naming things. She wasn’t too pleased that she isn’t my first choice for my electronics but I told her she could have anything else she wanted so that made her happy. She then came and cuddled with me for a few minutes and said “but you’re not REALLY gonna die right?” to which I, of course, responded, “hell to the no.”

But in that conversation, I realized that I best deal with cancer with humor or just pretending that it’s not such a big deal. When I do that, I don’t fear it as much. Besides, I’m a Hodgkin’s kid…what’s there to fear, right? Ha ha ha I hate assholes that make it sound like it’s a walk in the park just because there’s a higher rate of remission. “It’s only Hodgkin’s” … oh yeah? Well, it’s only my fist in your face!

I kid, I kid.

Honestly, there are a few things I like about having cancer.

It makes me feel like the world has evened the score, for one. I was a bit of a douchebag between the ages of 18 and 24. I went off to college and didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. I was a selfish bastard who would date people and then dump them as soon as they began to develop an emotional connection to me. I’m sure I hurt several people. I was THAT guy. I’m far from that guy now. I’ve grown up a lot and I went through things that made me learn and be open to feeling and loving and I’m actually quite the opposite now. But still, it doesn’t change the fact that I was a complete idiot before. Another fine example: There’s a statue of a man where I did my undergrad that people would visit. Tourists would come rub his shoe for good luck. So many people do this that the actual tip of the shoe is a completely different color than the rest of the statue. Little do they know that it’s tradition at the school to get drunk and go piss on the shoe tip for the unsuspecting tourists the next day. And guess who did that on at least 5 occasions?

Yep, this guy. *points to self*

Not only did I piss on it, I actually would sometimes sit with friends and watch these poor people excitedly take pictures touching the pissed on shoe. It was like a game to me. I fucked with the world and I feel badly about it…so in a way, getting cancer is a good thing. It makes me feel like they’re all getting their revenge on me and I can let those things go…because hey, we’re even now. I know it’s not exactly how it works but when I think about it that way, justifying it like that puts a smile on my face. So whatever.

You have a free pass to pretty much say and do whatever you want. Family, friends, even strangers are hesitant to tell me anything. The other day I was at my local H-E-B (that’s a grocery store, for all you non-Texans) and there was an aisle that was particularly slippery. So, naturally, my sister and I started sliding back and forth, because that’s what 28 year olds do, didn’t you know? Anyway, I ended up hitting this old lady’s cart by accident, which ended up hitting her right on the ass as she looked through the frozen pizzas. I screamed “FUUUUCK!” as I slid and tried to keep from falling. And all my sister had to do was mouth “Cancer” and make cancer-face. You know the one.

My bandana covered bald head hasn’t failed me yet. I’ve never been more frank with the people in my life and they’ve never been so open to hearing what I have to say, whether it’s good or not.

I just get what I want. Pshh, never in my life have I seen so many people be so willing to bend over backwards for me. I could probably tell my mom, “I would like an in-n-out burger” and she’d be on the first plane to California to fetch me one. What the hell, right? That’s awesome. In my world of cancer, I am king, the bed is my throne, and everyone else? They’re my loyal subjects that do as I say. Haha okay, not really. I’m hardly a bother at all. But I just think it’s fun to remember that I have that kind of support. :)

Last thing because this is getting long and I’m freakin’ tired. I’ve always wondered something about cancer patients. Every time I’d see one at the store or on TV, I’d see their bald heads and always ask myself the same question: do the curtains match the drapes? Aaaaand…now I know the answer. Huzzah!

I can now die in peace. But don’t worry, guys. Not any time soon. I still have enough fight left in me to last another 60 years. :-)