Cancer Fatigue: Not For Me

“Not on the lips!”
“The hair! The hair! Just been set…”
“Taffeta, darling. No, the dress is taffeta. It wrinkles so easily.”Madeline Kahn as Elizabeth at the train station rebuffing her fiancé in Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein.I feel like a f*cking china closet over here. Just a little desert flower. I don’t like being a desert flower. Cancer fatigue, I guess. I put on overalls and go into the crawlspace of my house because someone has to do it. I hold down my children and watch as the doctors stitch up their chins and treat their head wounds. I go out of my way to try to drive over squirrels. I drink scotch on the rocks. Wonder Woman doesn’t need help getting into her glass airplane. She doesn’t talk about her body aches and elevate the status of those aches by adding “the” before the ailment. “Lordy! The gout is feeling rather poor today. Ohhh! And The rheumatoid!”

cancer fatigue

Cancer Fatigue: Still?

My body feels like a minefield that others have been forced to navigate around. I have taken up yelping. Strange thing, yelping. Turns out it’s not just for dogs. It’s for cancery people too. And wincing. Lots of wincing going on lately. Wonder Woman is not a good role model for this phase, I’m afraid. I think a better role model would be The Most Interesting Man in The World. He never says anything tastes like chicken…not even chicken. Stay thirsty, my friends.