I've always felt a little bit like I was invisible, as if when I'm out and about, my plain-ness blends into the background, and that I am just another face in the crowd, unnoticed. I was always kind of comfortable in my 'cloak of invisibility'. This round of chemo has been kicking my butt. For the first time, yesterday, I was too tired to fuss with make-up. What does it matter anyway? My eyelashes are pretty much gone at this point, so mascara doesn't do me any good. My skin is so dry that I keep slathering moisturizer on, so no point in trying to apply makeup on top of that. I stared at myself in the mirror, and thought, "To hell with it" and skipped the wig too. I just pulled a hat down over my ears. We went to town, I got my shot, and we stopped at the grocery store. I've had such a craving for tomatoes, and so we stopped to pick them up. I walked into the grocery store too tired to even think about my appearance, just get my tomatoes and the other few things that we needed. Intent on my shopping, I missed it at first. People were staring, and when I met their eyes, they smiled at me, sympathetically. It's official. I look like a sick person, and sick people are apparently not invisible. I was glad to get back to the car.
I've been thinking about that today while I cleaned the house. I gathered up a pile of get well cards, and put them in the box with the others. I took a few moments to read them. What brave words in the beginning. Talk about kicking this with style and grace. Talk about my spirit and good humor triumphing over cancer. Those words sound so naive now. I still expect to triumph over cancer, but the whole style and grace thing, plllt. That's out the window. So is my humor, mostly. That spirit? Seems kind of flicker-y, like a spluttering candle. What I'm doing now, is enduring. Simply enduring, holding on the best way that I know how. It is not graceful. It is not pretty, but I am enduring.
Some days, that's all that counts.