My Wednesday View

You all know how I hate to brag...but I am the hottest, youngest, babe in this chemo joint.  I know this because I am the only person in the room that doesn't drive a Mercury Crown Victoria.  Also because patients have to state their birthdays to the nurses every other second.  I am the only one born in the 1970s.  Everyone else was born on the Banks of Plum Creek with Laura Ingalls Wilder.  But after five rounds of chemo and nine weeks of feeling like I am 103 years old, I have started to embrace the geriatric quirks of my chemo mates.  Like sucking on hard butterscotch candies and root beer barrels.  Mostly because I can taste the nasty saline flush in the back of my throat whenever the nurses mess with my port.  But partly because I now really just like butterscotches and their butterscotchy yellow wrappers.  (And I know you are all reminiscing back and thinking of where your grandparents kept their stash of butterscotches and barrels and those red cinnamon candies.  My Grandma Hess kept hers in a glass jar with an air tight seal on top of the TV that most likely was playing Hee Haw.  Or Lawrence Welk.) My cancer joint has a big honking jar of them right up front at the nurses station.  I grab about 12 of those suckers before I start my hours long session.  And then I get some more when I shuffle to the bathroom with my chemo pole.  It is during these bathroom walks that I get a chance to swap cancer stories with the others.  You know how old people love talking about their ailments and medications.  Well now I get to join them.  And I get to show off.  Usually I feel like I don't dress very cool.  But at Florida Cancer Specialists I am on fleek with the clothing trends.  That's because all of the other ladies are wearing gingham button down shirts with little sail boats and palm trees embroidered on them.  With Capri pants, natch.  I ordered myself Stitch Fix for my 40th birthday and have some new stylish threads.  But I am starting to bust out of them.  Unfortunately, my kind of chemo doesn't make me skinny.  OF COURSE NOT!  And I have gained over 10 lbs because of steroids and eating like a Tyrannosaurus Rex.  A Tyrannosaurus Rex with a hankering for butterscotches.    

Love this blanket Tami Tassler!  I had to wrestle it away from Caroline last week!