beauty and the beast

went to a real meeting today - with a lot of trepidation.

the jobs i've done since i got sick have all been emailed in and i wasn't sure if i was sufficiently civilized or lucid for polite company.

this morning, i put off getting dressed til the absolute last minute and then threw on a wooly chanel (my go-to for insecure moments) tunic and tights and a little woven prayer cap underneath my big furry hat because my hair is growing back in tiny little lines like a character from a charles schulz cartoon. maybe pig pen? someone whose hair all stands up straight.

so while i could not be the wonder woman and fix a computer glitch during the presentation - normally, my supermum fix-it powers kick in at moments like that - i did manage to speak in complete sentences and also get inspired to think of some cool stuff for the client.

but the whole time i kept wondering, how does it work for someone like me? what happens in the world of beauty when you turn totally skinny, lose your hair and have your eyes permanently puffy?

when you have cancer, even if it's on its way out, are you a living downer? would everyone want to avoid me?

the question is whether you tell people or not.

i mean, i have to tell them in meetings because i am almost bald. but if i've got my big hat on, do i tell people when i run into them in the hallway? i felt like i needed to tell people because i've fallen out of touch with everyone in the past few months.

so they wouldn't think i had just moved to bali (i wish).

and to also show that cancer isn't a death sentence. it's an imbalance, an illness that many people recover from and also one that can still allow you to live your normal life in the process.

i wanted to tell people so they could see that cancer is boring - but not oppressive.

you can be alive and thinking and going out

and writing

and coming up with good ideas (some related to commercial products :-)

even while you're kicking it.