Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Never puke in a paper bag and other cancer words of wisdom


1. Never puke in a paper bag. Unless, of course, it is an emergency.  I will admit I had one such emergency as I was driving home from work one day.  I felt fine one second and the next second, well, not so much.  All I had in the car was a paper bag, thankfully it was padded with some tissues I had thrown in there earlier.  The bag barely made it home to the garbage can.  I now keep a puke (plastic) bag in my car.


2. Learn the difference between indoor pants, outdoor pants, and indoor/outdoor pants. Yes I said PANTS not PLANTS.

Indoor pants are pajamas or any other pants that are extremely comfortable but it is not socially acceptable to wear out of the house. Another example would be the pants to your birthday suit.

Outdoor pants are your everyday jeans and work pants. Anything you'd want to loosen after Thanksgiving dinner.

Indoor/outdoor pants. You want these, trust me. These are your pants that are so comfortable you can relax around the house in them but it is socially acceptable to wear them out and about. These would be your yoga pants, thick leggings (make sure you can't see your goods when you bend down) and the lovely velour pants popularized by Juicy Couture in the early 2000's (thank you Gela and Pam). These will be your ideal pants for going to treatment and the days post treatment.  Chemo is uncomfortable enough without having a button digging into your belly.

Are you wondering where sweatpants are? They're not here. My freshman year of high school I realized they always made me have a bad day and feel icky about myself so I swore off wearing them. They have no place in my dresser, on my ass, or on this list.

3. Hair, stop trying to control it. It will do as it pleases. If it wants to fall out, it will. If it wants to grow in white and wild, it will. Don't even try to bargain with it, it won't work. In 5th or 6th grade I fought daily with my hair. I wanted a beautiful wave of bangs to swoop across my forehead (it was the early 90's). Every day we fought. I teased, I sprayed, I begged to no avail. Eventually I bargained. I told my hair I wouldn't force it to do anything as long as it always looked decent. This worked for many years, until the week before my wedding when my hair decided to fall out. C’est la vie.  It’s just hair.

4. Buy the whole pharmacy. Trust me, you’ll need it.  One day you’ll be downing Imodium, the next day it’ll be Miralax. I have Tylenol and Advil and Aleve.  I have several types of anti-nausea prescriptions. You just never know which side effects you’ll get and when and once you think you know what to expect, it will change. If you aren’t on the treatment merry-go-round, constantly changing treatments, it won’t be quite so bad but you want to be prepared.

5. Pack your bags, you’re going on an adventure. A cancer adventure, YAY! Okay, maybe a cruise would be nicer or a trip to the jungle but you get what you get, so pack your bag and make the most of your day off from work.  
I have rolling shopping bag I bought from Marshalls and I love it.  I bring a quilt (lovingly made for me by a friend, thank you!), magazines, my phone charger, my lunch bag filled with snacks (another gift, thank you!), notebook if I am seeing the doctor, menus for local restaurants, and my computer.  The hospital I go to has DVDs you can rent for the day (if yours doesn’t, consider taking up a collection at work and donating them).  They also serve lunch but it gets boring after a while so we frequently order take out.  After lunch, curl up with your blanket and take a nap.

So there it is, five points to get you started.  There’s plenty more where that came from but I’ll spare you the details for now – I’m exhausted and I have a dog on my keyboard.

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