Irony

"Sometimes the only sense you can make out of life.....is a sense of humor." ~ Unknown

Cancer is a mutation of cells; Cells growing out of control without a stopping point. It is not a venereal disease or an invasion of an antigen that takes over its human host. It's a genetic anomaly induced by environmental or hereditary conditions that cause the mutation of a gene. It can be awful and fatal but it can also be entertaining. Recently, I went to a movie called "50/50" with J. Gordon Levitt and Seth Rogen. It's based on the true story of someone who had an absolutely hideous cancer experience. I was mortified by the professionalism of the patient's healthcare team and the unbelievable treatment of his shallow, self-absorbed girlfriend. Then there was his relationship with his therapist. He was her 3rd patient ever and she was trying to counsel him as if she were reading from a manual. It was so ironically awful and tragic that it was funny. I was thankful that someone put all of this in a movie.

Irony. I had almost forgotten how important irony is for finding humor in tragedy. Alanis Morissette neglected to make reference to the irony of having a whole drawer of hair products, i.e. barrettes, combs, ponytail holders, headbands, hair spray and hair gel etc. and a Cancer diagnosis......"It's like a drawer of combs....with a clean shaven head.......And isn't it ironic? Dont chya think? It's like raaaaaaiiiin.....on your wedding day......" I could talk about irony forever. I find it tremendously ironic that the food I crave the most is refined sugar. Refined sugar or any sugar feeds cancer cells. Cancer LOVES the stuff, and I have a hankering for Mango Sorbet....Isn't it Ironic?

It's ironic that I got cancer while working as an oncology nurse....As my friend Jim said, "I know you're dedicated....but this is taking it just a little too far." Now that's funny.....and quite ironic.

I like to write with wit and sarcasm. I like to make people laugh when I share stories and I was determined to keep my posts light and funny while describing the human side of battling cancer. The problem is, cancer is not funny. Mention the "C" word and people get this awful, frightened look on their face that is hardly ready for a punch line. I have tried a hundred ways to make light of my experience, but recognize early that my gallows humor, born out of 12 years of Emergency nursing, only appeals to a select group of friends. Even when I am in a jovial mood, making light of my situation in groups of friends, I still sense deep sadness and tragedy that has since been magnified with the shaving of my head. This morning, my husband and I were discussing the last few days and the intensity of my symptoms with this last administration of chemo. I admitted that it was difficult and that I would probably be someone very different after all of this was over.

He responded, "Maybe you'll be nicer."

It was funny. His timing was perfect. It made me laugh and I was reminded that there IS humor in all of this, very deep, and rooted in tragic psychology that many people are not conscious of or are completely uncomfortable with. The key is timing and delivery and finding the really funny aspects of all of this that everyone can relate to.

Not everybody speaks "chemo". If I were to tell you a joke like,

"How many chemo patients does it take to change a light bulb?"

Answer: None, they don't have to change a lightbulb because they already glow in the dark.

One would have to know that the agents used in chemotherapy are often brightly colored (like antifreeze) or that they are so toxic, glowing in the dark almost seems like a plausible side effect. Most people don't get it. How can you be funny if you tell jokes that people just don't get? Or that people don't want to laugh at. Lately, I've been getting courtesy laughs and blank stares of "does she really think that's funny?"

The recent shaving of my head has created a new challenge for me in keeping things light. People stare and look away or tell me I have a "beautifully shaped head." It's sweet, but it makes me laugh. How do you respond to that? I like your head shape too? I try to come up with quotes from G.I. Jane or break into renditions of Sinead O'Connor songs but people don't laugh except for my friends with the same sick sense of humor who take it one step further with Kojak or Grace Jones references. Being bald is funny and so are the other side effects. One of the major side effects of the chemo is the nausea. When asked what it feels like, I explain, "It's like the hangover that follows a 3-day drinking binge of Jager-tee, Jagermeister, and Stroh rum at high altitude without eating anything prior." Most people have not had this unfortunate experience or anything similar to it. I wonder if I should be embarrassed that the wealth of my experience affords this analogy. Some people laugh because it is totally like me to have done something so wild and unbelievable, and lived to tell the tale. Others find me sad and unrefined. I say, drink the Jager-tee but stop there. It's enough to get the idea....

Another side effect is the intensification of one's sense of smell and taste. I can smell a ripe pineapple from a mile away. I can smell an oncoming rainstorm. I can smell my daughter's shampoo 3 rooms down the hall. Imagine the unpleasantness of this new heightened ability.....Yeah. Getting rid of the cats smells like a great idea.

Then there's this weird thing with appetite and taste. For women who are, or ever have been pregnant, they can probably relate. Once, when I was pregnant with my daughter Stella, I had an intense craving for chocolate cake. I wanted it freshly baked and frosted so I spent the greater portion of my day, while on bedrest, baking and frosting a cake. At the end of this laborious process, I was so excited to cut a piece of chocolate heaven and enjoy what was to be an experience of culinary mastery despite its Betty Crocker origins. I giggled with anticipation. I took one bite and then two. After three bites, I wanted to hurl. I cried for an hour that the joy of eating chocolate cake was so fragile and so fleeting. Marek gained 20lbs when I was pregnant, largely because this phenomenon occurred frequently and there was no one else to eat a perfectly well-baked chocolate cake. I was saved by an intense need for refrigerated, Entemann's, buttermilk doughnuts that never waned and thankfully, kept me out of a deep psychological despair. However, it also kept me out of a size 6 and my favorite bikini for quite some time too. Chemotherapy is much like being pregnant in that respect. One minute, I want huevos rancheros and the next, I am shuttering at the thought of an egg or anything resembling food. Water is repulsive. Despite the throbbing headache from being severely dehydrated, the thought of drinking water resembles the abhorrent act of eating a cockroach. I simply cannot do it. I can take small sips of Kombucha or fizzy drinks but water is detestable. My body needs it and I know it, but I swear it will kill me if I drink it. It's easier to curl up and wait for my ER friends to bring me IV fluids, .....which they never do of course because that is illegal, unethical and unprofessional.....I am still hoping that the healthy equivalent of refrigerated Entemann's buttermilk doughnuts will soon present itself. My psychological well-being depends on it.

The good news is my bikini still fits....well, sort of. Having one breast instead of two makes the bikini presentation a little....uneven and disturbing. The question is do you flatten the right side or build up the left with a silicone prosthesis? It's hard to hide the duct tape so flattening is a challenge. The problem with the silicone prosthesis is that it looks far better than the 30-year old, post-breastfeeding, slightly downward-turning breast on the right. (Yes, I said 30. I did not get breasts until I was 15.....so shutup). So, the bikini fits on the bottom but not on the top. After years of ski racing, cycling, and playing soccer, with far too much junk in my trunk, it is the first time in 37 years that this has ever happened. Now THAT is ironic.