She’s a little coo coo. Tower 10 as Bridget says, which I think means certifiable, without the cheque! She’s only coming out for special occasions … à la Coco Chanel.
If you are just tuning in … I had Triple Negative Breast Cancer and am going through chemo now. I lost all my hair after Chemo 1 which is chronicled in Ciao Bella. Then … I got five wigs! Oh, Heather … You didn’t! and Meet Sophie! and Foxy Roxy! were previously introduced.
You have yet to meet Storm! I AM the Storm.
Coco is Unique. Quirky. Beats to her own drum and dances with no concern who is watching … Coco walked into the Chemo Lounge like she was walking onto a yacht (there is a song in there). Brilliant two-toned pink hair – held back with a diamond comb – TYVM.
This wig is another Jon Renau special called Bettina in Frosting Pink.
Coco wore dangling pink earrings and all her bling. She threw silver glitter around like it was a dime a dozen (there is a story in there … Annie chewed the silver shoes I got out this morning and I lost my silver Tiffany bracelet … but we will find it!)
She wore a short gray dress … and 4-inch platform silver heels made even better by a glittery pink pedicure! Toe cleavage and delicate ankles … Andrew’s* favourite. I might have to blog about that sexscapade with Andrew! I did tell you I have tiny, little scars on each ankle, thanks to that sexy guy, didn’t I?
Coco channels a little Cyndi Lauper as well – and sings Girls Just Want to Have Fun! They just wanna …
I have a pink adult sippy cup from Indigo that says “Be so good they can’t ignore you” … and that is exactly my plan!
I think it was Audrey Hepburn who said “Make a grand entrance … even if you have to get stuck in a revolving door to do it.”
Coco arrived. All she needs is a purse chichi with a diamond collar and leash.
People stopped and dropped their jaws as I rolled into the Durham Region Cancer Centre! Really! Like I was one of a kind … cray cray.
The Chemo Lounge nurses stopped … and stared. I walked by their desk as if they should fall in line as part of my trailing entourage … and gestured with my hand that “Oh … I don’t do cancer the normal way … You won’t see anyone else like me in the Chemo Lounge!”
I smiled at my Chair 16 nurse and said, “You won’t forget me!”
I think Anastasia* actually rolled her eyes a little at all the girl drama that just blew into town …But the three of us settled into a nice chat about men and dating in this post-modern family world of our 50s as she started my chemotherapy.
I try to think of the Red Devil as my friend. I used to have a sign in my bedroom that said: Be the kind of woman who, when her feet hit the floor in the morning, the Devil says “Oh no! She’s up!”
I replaced that with a typography art piece of the word Grace when I decided there was no place for the devil in my bedroom. He did, however, show up in my chemo drugs. If this is a battle for my soul, I won. I may have traded in a few years but God and I keep my soul. And that is another post … Sex, drugs, rock and roll and religion all in one day! Coco needs a sleeping pill.
Edited to add: Coco thought she took a sleeping pill. Christyne texted the Gremlin Warning on time – I am like a little Gremlin that cannot be fed or watered after 9pm lest I choke on my snack. I ramp up with the pre-chemo steroids and eat, then crash with the sleeping pill and exhaustion in a matter of seconds. I fell asleep with a granola bar in my mouth after my first chemo infusion. However, Coco got the pills out – placed them on the counter then – Ohhhhh look! New earrings! She forgot. And two hours later I found them while peeing red. Let’s say goodnight again ladies! Off to bed with you two …
Anastasia told us that this red drug is so toxic that if it spills on my skin, I would need a skin graft … It’s like Alien blood. Tissue and nerve damage on contact … and they are pumping this shit right into my heart through my vein! No wonder I have a Red Devil expiry date. I can only get so much of that drug in this lifetime, as it can cause permanent heart damage.
My nurse suits up in a hazmat suit to administer my chemo cocktail by hand … just in case my vein springs a leak. Those blue gloves and waterproof gown (extra thick) are for her protection … not mine! She did not wear a mask but I promised not to be sick.
But in it went to do its kick-ass job of killing any stray cancer cell that may have escaped my breast tumour. I can only be thankful and hopeful.
I am grateful for the beautiful people in my life, like Christyne, who drove three hours today to take me to chemo. Jill – we missed you but want you and your family to get healthy – I will visit once I bounce back from Chemo 3! You, Jill … are the source of my courage to face cancer like I do … I’ve never forgotten your grace and your words. Love both of you.
I’m grateful I still have time and didn’t bleed out on the way home … Christyne is an EXCELLENT driver, but some idiot decided he was going to make a left in front of us with just the clearance of a few feet … and a few brakes! Christyne threw up the Mom Seatbelt arm! I love you!
I’m grateful that I am alive, and so are our children … We heard them call a Code Pink in the birthing ward while in the hospital today. That is an infant Code Blue …
I’m just grateful.
And with that quicky intro, Coco has retired to the boudoir for ce soir … I am comfy in my chemo slouchie cap knitted by Christyne. I am wandering into the chemo fog on a rollercoaster in the dark for a few days …
Fuck you cancer!
Coco/Lise (because Christyne is from Montreal aussi)
P.S. It’s probably a little disconcerting to interchange between she and I … my poor readers! She is I … I am her. We’re all good. All six of us. No Sybil here …
*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty and the innocent!
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© Lisa Jobson 2017