On The Lighter Side

A Real Friend

When talking with a close friend the other day, I treaded lightly as I broke the news that I have cancer.”  In”  not knowing how she would take it, I had prepared for almost anything except for what actually came out of her mouth.”  She and her family have been going through tougher challenges than”  anyone should ever be faced with and I knew of the stress she’s been shouldering.”  Well,”  after my quick statement was delivered there was a pause on her end.”  Then, I heard a long, drawn out, compassionate “Ahhhhh””  Followed by “You’re my Real Friend.”  You are the only one who would go and get cancer to help me feel better about my stuff!””  The laughter was unstoppable from that point on.”  After all, “Cancer isn’t a swear word,””  it is simply a challenge to overcome.

Bad Hair Day

So here Steve and I were riding down the elevator on the way to another surgery. I was wearing my “New To Me” wig to see just how it felt when Steve explained to a 70+ year old women what all my excitement was about. After leaving the elevator Steve and I had fallen a good ten paces behind her as I explained about a friend who had been given a wig that was obviously an “Old Lady Wig, with all the curls and cut one might have.” Just upon opening my mouth and inserting foot, I then realized that she was in earshot of my careless comment. Oops, I started to laugh out of embarrassment. If it wasn’t bad enough Steve leans over and informs me, “Don’t worry, she probably can’t hear you any way.” Once again I enter the lobby of the hospital laughing in hysterics. We saw her a few minutes later and I could have sworn she scowled at me in passing.

Candy Bowl

While visiting an oncologist’s (cancer specialist) office last week, my husband noticed a rather large bowl of Hard Tack Candy at the front desk.”  So when we stepped in to meet the doctor, Steve, without missing a beat said,”  “I know you doctors support one another and I can’t help but to ask:”  If you have a large bowl of candy at your front desk then should my dentist have a plate of fried hamburgers waiting for his patients at his front desk?””  Way to meet a new doctor, Steve!” ”  He definitely keeps me laughing.

Don’t Give Up Your Day Job

Just a couple of one-liners from my dear husband, Steve.”  My brother Grant had called and was concerned about my surgery tomorrow.”  Steve consoled him by saying, “Don’t worry Grant, It’s just a SMALLLLLLL surgery.”

Steve also had to send an email notice to his work, in which he wrote: “I’ll be in and out of the office tomorrow.”  My wife has something she needs to get off”  her chest.”

Fake Head?

I met with an “Image Consultant” at the hospital today. It’s a really cool service they freely provide patients going through hair loss due to the effects of Chemo Therapy. A free wig, scarf, and two hats are donated to each patient. So, as I sat there looking at the wares I was informed that because the selection is rather limited for the wigs I might have to go to the American Cancer Society to get one that is more desirable. Then, she informed me that my insurance company might allow for a “Cranial Prosthesis.” ” “A What?” Yup, you heard right. Apparently, for the request to go through, it has to be submitted on the prescription form for a Cranial Prosthesis. Sounds like a fake head. I knew I was losing mine at times but this takes the cake. I wonder who came up with that one. I Would love to have heard the laughter in their office that day.

Hare Today, Gone Tomorrow

As we were walking across the parking lot towards the Cancer Radiation Center I noticed a patch of bunny fur right in front of the curb. I pointed it out to my husband and said, “Oh look, something got the bunny last night!” To which he responded, “Hey, this is the Cancer Radiation Center. Maybe he’s just going through Chemo like the rest of you guys. Yah, he’s a Hairless Hare.” As I started to giggle he continued on with his one-liners saying, “It’s a Receding Rabbit … or perhaps a Bald Bunny.” By this time I was laughing hysterically as I walked into the lobby.

Hot Wife

Just before my surgery, the nurses took me into an isolated room where I received injections of radioactive tracer dye that would mark the extent of the cancer.”  As they wheeled me out of the radiation room and met up with my husband, the nurse jokingly said “Stay 5 feet away from her, she is radioactive.””  His eyes lit up as he exclaimed,”  “Awesome!” ”  I’ve always wanted a HOT wife.”

Hydrate Often

I was talking on the phone today with a friend who is in the mountain biking industry.”  He gave me a suggestion that “instead of the doctors putting in Silicone implants, why don’t you just request some hydration bladders instead?”  That way they wouldn’t just look good but they’d be functional as well.””  So, instead of having a Camelback I’d have a Camel front.”  Pretty cool idea, Eh?”  I’ll have to run it by my plastic surgeon and see what she has to say.

I Can’t See The Trail!

As my husband and I were hiking in the Canadian Rockies this past week we followed a trail that appeared to disappear due to all the overgrowth.”  Not being sure of my footing because of the broad leaves that covered my view of the path I explained to Steve why I was going so slow.”  I stated, “I can’t see the trail.””  From which he replied, “I’m surprised you can see anything below you since your last expansion . . . and don’t be surprised if your feet shrink, because things don’t grow in the shade.””  Cute, Eh?”  He later admitted that he stole that joke from Dolly Parton.

I’m In Stitches

Not only did I have an amazing nurse with a quirky sense of humor, my doctor must have been her mentor. As the surgery was wrapping up, I asked how many stitches he used. He replied, “It’s rather difficult to count, but I would estimate somewhere around 40 to 50 running stitches. We normally use walking stitches, but seeing how active you are, we decided to go with the running stitches today.” FYI- walking stitches do not exist.

It’s A Plumper!

June 17th- The day before surgery I had the opportunity to spend the morning at Disneyland with my niece and a foreign exchange student from mainland China.”  Around noon, during a bathroom break, I glanced in the mirror and discovered that I’d “sprung a leak.””  Knowing that I’ve gained a few pounds lately, I humorously compared myself to the “Foster Farm Chickens,” a California TV commercial that shows these two mangy birds trying to be passed off as the all-so-healthy and naturally organic Foster Farm Chickens,”  who are continually being rejected by consumers.”  They resort to cosmetic transformation by having themselves injected with salt water to make them plump.”  The procedure turns bad when, in a grocery store, one of the birds springs a leak.”  Then, with the force of a fire hose unleashed, the “leak” takes out the produce manager.”  A young child standing near by alerts his mother of the intruders by yelling, “Look Mom, it’s a Plumper.””  So as I exited the restroom to meet up with my guests waiting on the curb, I jokingly said, “Look Mom, it’s a Plumper and it’s sprung a leak.”

We still had an hour to go before heading off to another doctor appointment, so, as I ventured around “The Happiest Place On Earth””  I giggled to myself and, without embarrassment, let those who might stare just think that I was a sloppy eater that day.

Mark It

Stepping into my plastic surgeon’s office earlier this week, she promptly stated, “OK, Strip and I’ll mark you!””  Quite surprised I couldn’t help but to ask her “Wow, you must have some amazing permanent markers, or am I not suppose to shower for the next two weeks?””  At realizing her mistake in thinking I was the patient going into surgery the next day, she almost fell onto the floor in laughter.

Missing Meters

Ten days post-surgery I attended church for the first time.”  As we left the building and stepped into the frigid air I mentioned to my husband how chilly it seemed.”  Once again he responded with humorous wit and said, “How can you tell?”  Your meters are missing.””  Oh,”  how it hurt to laugh 10 days post surgery.

Perky!

I was visiting with a friend, sharing with her the details on what is going to be happening with my double mastectomy and reconstruction surgery.”  Sitting quietly listening to the conversation was her 71 year-old husband who, after hearing the details piped in with his two-cents worth by saying:”  “I have a new motto. . .Down with Perky Breasts!”” ”  I busted a gut in laughter and when I finally stopped laughing to the point that I could respond, I simply retorted”  “You know when I’m 71 I’ll be right there with you on that one, but for now I say build them better than before.”

Stuff It

My thirteen year-old son was sitting at the top of the stairs, listening to a phone conversation I was having with a friend regarding my upcoming surgery.”  Once I hung up he said, “You know Mom, you really don’t need to have them rebuilt.”  You can just stuff your bra with some toilet paper.”  I know a couple of girls who do that right now.””  Got to love that direct approach.”  I’m still laughing!

Fit to be Tied

A major part of my second surgery was disconnecting one side of my latissimus dorsi muscle from my back and wrapping it to the front over the breast and connecting it at the sternum.”  This provided blood flow to the failed area and the new skin graft.” ”  That being said: here is another humorous gem from my dear husband Steve.”  Today I finally was allowed to ride my mountain bike for the first time in five months.”  After conquering a very steep hill without stopping I excitedly exclaimed “Yeah Me!”  I did it without dabbing.””  Steve then replied, “Why are you so surprised?”  Heck, you could do that with one boob tied behind your back.””  Once again I thought I’d lose it from laughing so hard.

What’s That Noise?

My minor surgery to have a Porta-Catheter placed below my collarbone happened today. This small valve is surgically inserted under the skin as a port to administer Chemo treatments. As I lay on my hospital gurney having an IV placed in the arm, we hear a loud hammering sound down the hallway. Without missing a beat the nurse states,”  “Oh, I can hear they are putting in the Porta-Cath in the patient just before you. You’ll have to wait a little while for them to clean up the mess.” She grins without looking up as she sticks the needle in my arm.

 

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