Most people see me when I’m feeling well enough to be out. That’s not to say that I’m squatting down in a rice patty, dropping a baby, and getting on with it, but I’m functioning at a relatively healthy level. Most who see me say I look good and that’s good for me to hear as well as feel. Some ask why I still have my hair, some wonder how I can work, some surprised ones probably think I’m already dead. The thing is what people don’t see. It’s not quite like an iceberg but you get the idea - when you don’t see me and why you don’t see me is because I look and feel like cancer. And the more I’m on chemotherapy, the more I am cancer. I was told today that my hair looks good, which is good to hear and relative to many cancer patients it’s really true. But my hair has probably thinned by 50% so to ME that’s not so good. And hair will grow back so what’s the big deal but, as a demonstration, to prove that my hair isn’t that good, for a small audience, I grabbed at my beard, gently pulled, then released half a dozen hairs onto a napkin. That’s not normal. That’s cancer. And I have it no matter what I look like.
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