July 12, 2017


Things got lit in the chemo room today. 


There was a 70 year old woman across from me who is telling her nurse that she recently picked up surfing. SURFING! She said, “I need to to move to Costa Rica so I can surf all the time.” I just nodded to myself and really think we all need to move with her. 


There was another woman across from me rocking a huge afro wig. I guess she had lost her hair and was like, 1-800-Fuck It. I loved picturing her at the wig store saying to herself, “Cancer will not stop me looking like a bad ass. I’ll take the biggest afro wig you got.” 


Then a group of four people walked in wearing Austin Powers costumes. They were playing the soundtrack out loud and telling everyone they wanted to shag them. Some older couples were very confused. Apparently this woman and her friends wear a different costume for every treatment. Now normally I am very anti-costume. “But Davey, you’re an actor- you should love costumes!” That’s like saying, “You’re a doctor- you should love when people use WebMD!” Or “You’re an accountant- you should love when people are boring!” This is especially true for my actor friends. I’m like, “You want to dress up and pretend you are someone else…try getting cast in a play.” 


These people, however, coming in costumes made me very happy. They were living their truth, showing their asses, and I think that’s the best possible way to handle chemo. 


Then, to top it all off, somebody just rang the bell. 


Ringing the bell is what you do on your last chemo treatment. I’ve noticed that people ring the bell all politely. Me, I’m going to try and break it. 


When I saw my doctor today, I asked her about changing the date of my last two treatments. She reminded me that treatments 11 and 12 might not be my last two. While she reminded me that I would not be on this regimen forever, since it got to Stage 4, the treatment plan is evolving. It was slightly disappointing news. In my head, this is over on September 20th. But the truth is, I have no idea when it will be over. Ever since I hit treatment 6 and what I thought was the halfway point, I’ve just been wanting this whole thing to be end. I've been wanting to get back to normal. But the thing is, I can’t do that. A watched pot never boils and a waited for bell never gets rung. This is life right now. Wishing it away will only blind me to the 70 year olds picking up surfing, the woman wearing the afro wig, the friends in the Austin Powers costumes. It will blind me to the fact that life can flourish in the darkest of times. A fact I miss if I’m just focused on breaking that bell. 






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