April in February

I haven’t mentioned April for a long time. April was supposed to be my chemo alter ego…my thick flowing locks…my full head of hair…my reminder of what I was…BUT once sick with chemo April was not the attractive prospect she had seemed pre-chemo. Today, however, 2 months on from the last chemo treatment, she came out to play. It was short lived – I put her on – looked in the mirror a lot, ran my fingers through the strands, flounced about the house for a while and put her back on her wig stand again. I need the real thing now so will just have to wait or wait for the first backcombing opportunity!

The truth is that I don’t think I will ever be what I was again. This cancer  business changes you and, whilst I have had to think (and adjust my life) day to day because of (type 1) diabetes for over 27 years, cancer feels a whole other invasive deal. I don’t want to be a victim, I don’t want a “battle” I don’t even want to hear about how successful others have been at “beating” it – I would just like my old mindset back. Some days, many days in fact, are good and cancer barely flits about at the edge of my consciousness whilst I try to re-build, both physically and socially. Other days are foggy and treacherous – I sense the mendacious cancer lurking, seeping, alert to signs that I may be getting too positive.

So I try to hang my hat (or wig?) in the fug of the middle ground where my emotions are guarded and where my edge has gone. I want to wake up with energy, a spring in my step, clear skin, my old hair, more of my memory in situ and the cancer gone (tall and slim would be good too?!) … But you know what they say about “I want”?  – never gets…Drat and double drat!

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