What's making me jump for joy?
Eyebrows.
It's the seemingly inconsequential litttle things that you miss when you don't have them.
It might sound stupid but after a long and exceptionally unglamorous battle with cancer, two weeks ago I started getting back my eyebrows. When I first announced my diagnosis to my family and friends, Andrew emailed me and said I should just shave my head and grow a goatee. Why not? I'd done it before. (See above left)
What I failed to realize at the time was that I might not just lose the hair on my head. Depending on the chemo and the patient, there is no prognosis on just how much hair you might lose ... above or below the equator. I can't help but think of the countless hours that many friends over the years have wasted shaving their chests, etc. Little did they know they could get those results for free (ish).
Ten days after my first chemo it started. I was in the shower and the second the shampoo hit my head I knew. Immediately my hands were covered with what felt like soggy shredded wheat. The irony is that for the first time in years I had decided to grow my hair out. Above (right) is a picture of one of my longest hair stages with tennis legend Jimmy Connors. It was around the same time I got to work with former Miss America and broadcasting pioneer Phyllis George. My hair was bigger than hers. (Personal note to self: never, ever, under any circuimstances should you ever mention to a former Miss America that your hair is bigger than hers. Let's just say the atmosphere became quite chilly and the Miss Congeniality award went elsewhere.)
When I got out of the shower that morning the sight that greeted me in the mirror was nothing compared to the one that confronted me in the tub. It looked like Islamic fundamentalists had put Robin Williams and two alpacas into a cuisinart. You'll never know how much hair you have until you lose it all at once. Within days my balls made me look thirty years younger.
The first day I considered doing Joe Biden for halloween. By day three I couldn't pull off anything other than McCain. And we all know that was out of the question because Tina Fey was booked. Even Carson needed a sidekick.
Shortly after Christmas I was told my first round of chemo was not successful. Fuck. Within days I started a new combination of chemo drugs and that's when I lost the last of my hair, my eyebrows. Shaving your head can be a fashion statement. Not having eyebrows makes you look like you're visiting from the future.
Recently I got "the news"
My PET scan and CAT scan showed that I was cancer free. I cried my ass off. There were some people I thought I should tell in person instead of an email or a phone call. So last week I took a variety of busses, subways and trains from my home in Chester County, PA to New York.
I was on my way to the cultural center of our civilization. What were my plans? Something spectacular at The Met? A Broadway show? The Empire State Building?
No, I jumped right on the F train and went to Coney Island. I rode the Wonder Wheel and Spook-a-rama. I did three circuits on The Cyclone. Then I came back in town for Andrew's Bingo night.
It's the seemingly inconsequential litttle things that you miss when you don't have them.
Things you think about during three day chemo treatments and you wonder how much life is left.
They were all spectacular.
And I got to do them with eyebrows.
-Chris
flyingskooter@gmail.com
Eyebrows.
It's the seemingly inconsequential litttle things that you miss when you don't have them.
It might sound stupid but after a long and exceptionally unglamorous battle with cancer, two weeks ago I started getting back my eyebrows. When I first announced my diagnosis to my family and friends, Andrew emailed me and said I should just shave my head and grow a goatee. Why not? I'd done it before. (See above left)
What I failed to realize at the time was that I might not just lose the hair on my head. Depending on the chemo and the patient, there is no prognosis on just how much hair you might lose ... above or below the equator. I can't help but think of the countless hours that many friends over the years have wasted shaving their chests, etc. Little did they know they could get those results for free (ish).
Ten days after my first chemo it started. I was in the shower and the second the shampoo hit my head I knew. Immediately my hands were covered with what felt like soggy shredded wheat. The irony is that for the first time in years I had decided to grow my hair out. Above (right) is a picture of one of my longest hair stages with tennis legend Jimmy Connors. It was around the same time I got to work with former Miss America and broadcasting pioneer Phyllis George. My hair was bigger than hers. (Personal note to self: never, ever, under any circuimstances should you ever mention to a former Miss America that your hair is bigger than hers. Let's just say the atmosphere became quite chilly and the Miss Congeniality award went elsewhere.)
When I got out of the shower that morning the sight that greeted me in the mirror was nothing compared to the one that confronted me in the tub. It looked like Islamic fundamentalists had put Robin Williams and two alpacas into a cuisinart. You'll never know how much hair you have until you lose it all at once. Within days my balls made me look thirty years younger.
The first day I considered doing Joe Biden for halloween. By day three I couldn't pull off anything other than McCain. And we all know that was out of the question because Tina Fey was booked. Even Carson needed a sidekick.
Shortly after Christmas I was told my first round of chemo was not successful. Fuck. Within days I started a new combination of chemo drugs and that's when I lost the last of my hair, my eyebrows. Shaving your head can be a fashion statement. Not having eyebrows makes you look like you're visiting from the future.
Recently I got "the news"
My PET scan and CAT scan showed that I was cancer free. I cried my ass off. There were some people I thought I should tell in person instead of an email or a phone call. So last week I took a variety of busses, subways and trains from my home in Chester County, PA to New York.
I was on my way to the cultural center of our civilization. What were my plans? Something spectacular at The Met? A Broadway show? The Empire State Building?
No, I jumped right on the F train and went to Coney Island. I rode the Wonder Wheel and Spook-a-rama. I did three circuits on The Cyclone. Then I came back in town for Andrew's Bingo night.
It's the seemingly inconsequential litttle things that you miss when you don't have them.
Things you think about during three day chemo treatments and you wonder how much life is left.
They were all spectacular.
And I got to do them with eyebrows.
-Chris
flyingskooter@gmail.com
(do YOU have a Jumping for Joy story? Is there something that makes you say "wow, that just kicks ASS?".. then send it to me through this blog at andrewalt at aol dot com)
3 comments:
this is such a great story - thanks for telling it!! it's funny and inspiring.
Thanks for sharing your story, Chris, and thanks, Andrew, for providing a place for it.
Continued good health to both of you.
DL
What a beautiful and moving story. Thanks so much for sharing. One can never be reminded enough of how precious life is. We have to savor every moment!
Post a Comment