The Face of Leukemia- Just look at me, really its ok.

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Bald is beautiful

We’re all born bald, baby. – Telly Savalas

I collect hats. It’s what you do when you’re bald– James Taylor

It’s a great event to get outside and enjoy nature. I find it very exciting no matter how many times I see bald eagles –Karen Armstrong

What’s so brave about being bald? I’ve not fought for my country or found the cure for cancer I’ve just gone out without my hat on! -Gail Porter

You know it is interesting to me this stereotype associated with being bald. If you’re a man, it’s obviously genetic. Poor you, trudging through life with the same cranial cul-de-sac formed upon you as your father and his father before him. Unless of course you are a skinny, emaciated man then you must obviously be dying from some rare form of cancer. Or you just happen to be Billy Corgan jr. or Michael Stipe then ROCK ON DUDE!!! BALD ROCKS YEAH!

But what if you are a woman? Sinead O’Connors’ shiny domeness was by choice, a political statement against a traditional view of women. (well-played I might add)  But what if you don’t have her “balls”, what if you are brought screaming and kicking into baldness? Seriously think about this, in our society a woman unfortunately is judged the moment she walks into a room. Not for her sunny personality or Mensa card-carrying IQ. Nope, she is judged for her looks. Make-up, clothing, body weight, eyes, breasts and of course her hair. That is right, men will either ogle a woman within the first 30 seconds, ponder ogling her over the next 30 minutes or write her off. In the mean time women within the room will smile to your face and talk shit the rest of the evening. Sorry ladies its true, I have witnessed more than my fair share of character assassinations based on any one of the above criteria not being met to perfection on more than one occasion.

People get real comfortable with their features. Nobody gets comfortable with their hair. Hair trauma. It’s the universal thing-Jamie lee Curtis

So imagine, carrying this social pressure your entire life only to wake up one day without one of these aforementioned 6 major sight line musts for survival. What would you do? How would you behave? Would you curl up into a ball and cry or say fuck it and march boldly into the world claiming my hair will not define me!

Jacy lost all her hair on or around the first week of December. It has gone from sadness to a fun playful experience then one of empowerment! She has come to terms with this loss, worn a few wigs to help with a social awkwardness associated with a woman not 1474617_10153673039070221_12575420_nhaving hair, and in the end decided that 9 times out of 10 bald is beautiful.

Now while none of us can say with certainty what we would or would not do as it has not happened to us personally, I am proud of my wife for taking this strong-willed, brave stance. She does indeed have a perfectly shaped head and I think she is hot, hOT, HOT bald! Really, like she could never have hair on her head again and it would be ok with me! The woman is drop dead gorgeous! Throw in her stunning smile, caring heart and amazing personality, well ladies and gentlemen we have the trifecta of baldness!

But let me say this before I drone on too much about the woman I love and her shiny new dome. When we are out in public.

I see you.

I see when you stare at her as though it is wrong for her to be bald.

I see you when you look behind her and sigh as though you just cant relate. It’s ok, we understand if you cannot, but please don’t be fake.

While eating in a restaurant I see you staring, with your smart ass smirks, elbows flying into each others ribs while walking by outside. Moron it’s a window, if you can see us I can see you!

My ears may be 47 years old but your mumbles are not quiet enough. She hasn’t lost her breasts and even if she had you shouldnt be staring trying to figure it out so don’t look, she isn’t skin and bones so quit guessing her weight, and yes she lost ALL her hair, so stop wondering about places you cannot see and how much wax is being saved.

If you are going to stare don’t look ashamed when I make eye contact with you, walk up and ask questions, we are always open to discuss Leukemia and its effects upon our lives.

When you do have something to say, dont automatically behave as thought this is her last day on earth. The news media has ruined the public in regards to behavior when confronted with a bald woman. Smile say hello and ask away with glee! We are happy to be here and so you should be as well. Who knows the bald woman you talk with may have alopecia, thusly not really needing you to pray for them, unless you feel that will raise hair follicles from the dead?

If you have had a couple of drinks, your inhibition is lowered and you feel as though it is the perfect time to act like an ass with rude or inappropriate comments about this beautiful human being or any like her that may be in my presence, understand this, I WILL  make it the very worst night of your life. I promise..

When my wife takes her wig off in the middle of a store and it shocks you, just chuckle. It is funny, we laugh about it all the time and will laugh with you I promise! But if you can’t chuckle politely than at least close your mouth, that looks funnier than her bald head and we would hate for you to feel bad about yourself.

Remember, people going through chemotherapy are no different from you and me. Most of them have an incredible sense of humor, some have survived the very worst of treatment, others are still dealing with an inner loss while a few are looking at just making it a few extra days.  These people, these priceless examples of survival and strength, still need to laugh, love, talk, and feel. They still need to be accepted as the very same human beings they were before cancer. They know they are not the same inside and nothing will ever change that, but what they don’t need is to be reminded through ignorance, insensitivity and callousness.

Look into the face of cancer, tell me what you see.

I see LOVE…

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The Faces of Leukemia (December 14, 2013)

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My face….

Its midnight and I can’t sleep. Facebook says: write something…. But I can’t, not for lack of inspiration but because my writings are more than Facebook can handle, the emotion, my feelings, inner torment. These feelings take more than a few lines to describe, more than a paragraph to sum up into a neat tidy little package. These yearnings, longings, fears, unknowns, hover over my head. They are kept at bay most of the time, squashed into remission by a steel will and optimism. Yeah optimism. The problem with optimism for myself is I am a natural pessimist. The person who says no first than after careful consideration reconsiders my response. Some would call it a natural negativity, I call it lessons learned through life experiences.

Why cant I sleep, what is tugging at my brain causing fear to paralyze me in bed with the light on? Waiting, no, praying the monster under the bed doesn’t come out to play?

It is the darkness.

With darkness comes silence, with silence comes thought, with thought comes sadness and with sadness comes fear. Fear for control I do not have, fear for an outcome which I know not an answer. Fear one morning I will awaken from this dream or nightmare and find myself alone. Now being alone is not so bad, that is when you have someone to come Unknownhome too. Being alone brings peace, it allows you an ability to discover and rejuvenate your self-awareness. That is unless you are already comfortable in that department. Being alone should be by choice not by design. Being alone should never be forced upon you unwillingly, in a cowardly act or unforseen circumstance. In the end it doesn’t matter what it is,or how it happens, I am scared of being alone.. I am scared of losing my friend, my wife, to that bastard known as cancer.

I roll over in the night and she is there, even sleeping she lazily smiles at me with the brightness of a thousand suns. She holds me in a way that even I can’t explain. I sleep well because her rhythmic breaths sooth me so. A touch of the hand, a brush of the leg, a heavy sigh, they all lend to the comfort that can be sleep.  And yet now no matter how positive things are looking in regards to her health, no matter what is happening in our lives there will always be an unknown. The unknown is Leukemia and it will remain hovering over us for the rest of our lives.

How many days do we have? Is it a year, three, five, ten or twenty? What is the outcome Unknown-3and why can’t we know. Doesnt the cosmic powers that be, the holy heavens above know we have children? Doesnt anyone understand the importance of this woman seeing her children grow up, get married, have children of their own? Doesnt my selfish rant have some bearing on our future? Although ultimately, knowing might not make things any easier, bitching about it now in a rudimentary way is cleansing.

Darkness creeps slowly, with it sounds of others sleeping makes me inevitably jealous. Closing my eyes, squeezing them tight,  praying sleep will come quickly for exhaustion consumes my very being. Reaching out slowly, nervously grasping a small bead like switch, turning off the light, which instantly turns on a fear. With this fear comes loneliness, with loneliness comes a absurdity in regards to wasted time worrying about an emotion that shouldnt be there since she lays right beside me, healthy (as healthy as one can be) and alive.

I hate you darkness! My heart beats faster, my respiratory rate rises and it becomes easier each time to hate you more! You envelop me, smothering me like a blanket, restraining me as a straitjacket would.. Your coldness leaves me sweating, wallowing in ice water and before I know it I just can’t swim anymore. Darkness you take pleasure in ruining my life, keeping me from the sanity so many others enjoy by midnight. You are to busy feeding my thoughts and dreams waiting for the cloak and dagger game you play to emerge from the shadows. I hate you darkness, I god damn hate you..

So many are wondering what its like, how your life changes upon learning someone you love has Leukemia or cancer. The questions are normal and I love being able to answer them. I am very thankful it is me who gets to support this woman. I am thankful God found a job for me that falls within my realm of understanding. I am thankful that I can hold this woman up, and help her walk through the next 6 months of chemotherapy surrounded by nothing more than our will and love. Most people wonder if there is something more, if there is something better they should be doing with their lives. Not me, God gave me my job, its right in front of me and she loves me to the moon and back. I don’t want to disappoint her, I don’t want to lose her, I don’t want to be alone.. Selfish as it seems…

Fuck you darkness, I hate you, I hate you all to hell….

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(Please understand this is just a rant. I am fine, we will prevail, we will kick cancers ass! I am not looking for sympathy or pity, but helping those understand some of the irrational thoughts happening when you are alone, in the middle of the night, trapped with  nothing more than the unknown and a crazy brain that refuses to quit thinking. It is after all why I write…)