There are lots of things that are sad and hard about cancer. It is difficult being nauseous hour after hour for at least a week. It is sad looking at the row of pills that now occupy my life. It is hard remembering which pills I have already taken that day. However, there are two things that beat out all of the other sads and hards.

The Sad—

There are times, days in a row even, that I feel pretty good. I don’t feel nauseous. I’m not tired and weak, needing to sit all of the time. I’m laughing and joking. Then I catch a glimpse of myself—in a mirror, a window, the glass in a picture frame,—and I remember that I’m sick. Everything is different now. Again. I’m the cancer girl. Again. This makes me the saddest. I thought I was done with all of this cancer shit. Here I am 15 years later, with a bigger cancer, dealing with a look I hate. I hate looking sick more than actually being sick. It makes me feel more out of control somehow. You can hide hair with a wig, hat, or scarf. But no fucking eyebrows? You have to take time to cover that shit up. Unless you don’t mind walking out of the house like:

I am not interested in being cancer girl. I don’t want to be someone’s learning experience. I want to look into the mirror and see me. It makes me sad that she’s gone right now.

The Hard—

The hardest moment is when someone—it doesn’t matter if it is a close friend or a stranger—sees you for the first time. You can see the sadness roll over them. It is the worst. I hate making people feel that way.