Burning the Candle at Both Ends?

This is a phrase my dear Mother is prone to use on me. Yes, I have a tendency to burn the candle at both ends. I just like to be highly effective. Make a plan, get things done, enjoy the sense of accomplishment. Well, Day One of chemo was no different.

Think of it though. It was the first of many treatments and it started on the first day of Lent. How prophetic that I would start my rough road on the same day we count down to Jesus' "rough road." (It's probably inappropriate to compare a couple of cancer infusions to hanging on the cross, but I'm also not the Savior of Mankind.) So at least I will count the 40 days and 40 nights of Lent knowing that I'm suffering through chemo, but I don't have to suffer like Jesus did.

Either way, I had to go to Ash Wednesday Mass. But that was the last of a list of things I had to do on Day One.

First was the infusion. Then there was lunch. I was famished and Marcia agreed to feed me at the first place I found acceptable. We settled on Subway. I order my classic 6 inch Turkey Sub. It wasn't until Marsh ordered an egg whites sandwich that I realize she is a good Catholic and I'm a heathen. It's a Holy Day of Obligation and meat is out. Well, the poor guy behind the counter already made my sandwich by the time I thought of it. And I was so fricking hungry, I looked upward, said I was sorry and ate that sub like it was the last turkey sandwich in the world.

Next, it was off to the nail salon. You might think I was wiped by the first day of treatment and I was. But not too wiped that I couldn't sit for 45 minutes with my favorite girl. Anyone who has had a good nail tech knows, a nail appointment is more a counseling session with a polish change on the side. I feel bad for people who choose the non-English speaking nail techs - the feedback on serious life problems is just not the same.

Kay is my love and I wanted to see her, plus my nails were in desperate need to see her, so Marcia took me to the salon. We laughed, we joked, we picked the hot color of the week, and I left feeling prettier and happier than when I went.

It's always good to be around pretty young women like Kay and Erin. They always teach me something and Marsh got a lesson of her own too.


Erin offering tech advice.


For the woman who pays all her bills online, e-mail friends and family regularly and texts like a champ - Marcia is in a technology class all her own. But as she started texting Al in the salon, the phone would click with every letter. Erin said, "We have to change that." So the two of them sat on the couch and tried to manage the phone. It's that kind of full service salon.


So after Chemo and my nails, I finally went home to sleep. I took a much needed nap and woke up my own at 6:30 - just in time to go to Mass. Or so I thought. I pull up for what I think is 7pm Mass and there's no steady stream of people filing in. So I know I've messed something up. When I walk in the back, the service is halfway over - started at 6:30 - and I just missed the giving of the ashes, by like 30 seconds. So I sulk into a back pew and stay for the rest of Mass.

Afterward, I have the gall to stop and talk to Father Leo - who has been so wonderful since my recent diagnosis. I give him an update and he says he's praying for Chris and me. Then I point to my (empty) forehead and admit, "I missed the ashes part." He says no problem, we can fix that right now.

In the sacristy, he fixes me up with a prayer and a cross of ashes on my forehead. Then Fr. Leo looks at his work and laughs. He says, "Oh, I've kinda made a mess. But it looks like angel." I'm thrilled he let me slide, so I'm not picky. But then he leads me to the mirror and says, "Really, I'm trying to pretend that's an angel, but it looks like a bat." Either way, I got the ashes. That's what counts, right?

Angel or bat? You decide.