Stone Fruit
Thalia plugged her nose and took three gulps from the juice glass. Disgust danced a jig across her features. “We’re supposed to be getting our haircuts today.”
“Typist cancelled,” Cal sighed. “Seemed unnecessary since… Well, that’s why people keep giving us scarves.”
“Do WE have to lose our hair, too?” Tal demanded.
“I asked Typist,” said Nia. “She said we can keep ours. She’ll live vicariously through our styles.”
“C sucks! I hate everything about it.” Tears trailed down Tal’s cheeks. “And I hear what Typist keeps saying… We don’t have to love the cancer. Our job is to learn from it. But, WHY?”
Cal’s arm circled Tal’s shoulders in a show of solidarity. “And she keeps talking about metaphors and framing… Dancing instead of fighting, accepting instead of resisting, love over fear. I don’t like her very much right now.”
Nią cleared her throat. “Stop it. We will do what we have to do, and in six months they’ll remove the tumor like a pit from a plum. Until then, we just have to keep going.”
Stone Fruit
Had a big mix up at the store today. Apparently, when the woman said, ‘Strip down facing me,’ she was referring to my credit card. 😁
Also, regrading hair, Deb recommends looking into wigs. Her mom (metastatic ovarian cancer, diagnosed in her mid-80s) initially resisted but eventually relented. Mom picked a wig that looked like the way she wanted her natural hair to look, but somehow never did more than two days after the hair appointment; Mom said she enjoyed having that "I just got this done!" look. Deb's research found that getting a wig helps most women patients, whether they pick a style that looks "normal" for them or a style that goes in a direction that they never would have with their real hair.
"As straight forward as a pit from a plum." I'm carrying that image for you Gail.