Clothes Shopping With Cancer
It can be a challenge. First. There is always the question of Do I REALLY need these things? You never know how much wear you will get out of them. Spending lots of money on clothes that will only be worn for one season seems frivolous to me.
But, I really needed some new capris. My old ones, worn last Summer, were made of cotton and had been worn to a deep softness, but that also meant that they ripped easily. I also had a few pair that I wore to my chemo and arsenic treatments and frankly, just looking at them gave me ptsd.
I decided to go shopping. I waited until early afternoon when I usually feel the most strong. As luck would have it, it was raining again....but it seems to be raining all the time these days, so I let it go. I made sure that I had sipped my protein drink. I was well hydrated. The last thing I wanted was to have leg cramps.
Because of the rain, probably, my joints seemed to be aching worse than usual. I thought about postponing this until T could come with me. She was still in school until the week after Memorial Day due to all the snow days we had this Winter. But, bringing her with me would have its own special problems.
We don't shop well together. T loves to search for bargains. I have always hated shopping and tend to have a good idea of what I want and once I find it, I try it on and buy it. I don't wander around the store looking for better buys. T would drive me insane in a woman's clothing shop. Our tastes are very different, too. While I prefer functional, but pretty clothes....T has taste that I unkindly refer to as aging dyke. She likes plaid. A lot. No. I wanted to get in and out quickly. Without plaid. I would do this alone. I had shopped for myself for our entire marriage. I would do this alone. Now.
I got into the car and backed down the driveway, only to have the tire pressure light come on.
Shit. A delay. I drove to Jiffy Lube, just a few blocks away and a lovely boy who looked not a day over 12 checked my tires, pronounced them all a little low and re-inflated them. (Thank you boy in the red hoodie....I gave you a five dollar tip and it wasn't nearly enough because not once did you call me Ma'am.)
On to shopping. I went to the shop in the strip mall that I always go to and was delighted and not so delighted that there was only one other customer. Delighted because I could take my time. Not delighted because I hate it when sales people follow me around, making small talk with me. I was pleased when I was greeted and left alone.
I immediately found several capris in my size and color that were made of cotton and went into a dressing room.
And collapsed. I sat down carefully on the bench after hanging up all the clothes. I felt as if I could curl up on the bench and sleep. My arms suddenly felt as if they weighed 20 pounds a piece. My hands were shaking violently. I bent over to untie my shoe and the room suddenly began to spin.
This was not an auspicious start. I sat back carefully, put my hands in my lap and just breathed in and out. In and out. In and out. Slowly, I felt my body relax. I caught my breath, half disgusted with myself. It wasn't that I was surprised. This happens when I awaken every morning. I get up and get dressed and make my bed. And then, before eating, I have to rest in my chair for a few moments. I just have no stamina. Whatsoever.
I started worrying that a sales person would come check on me. So...this time, instead of bending over to untie my shoe, I put my foot up on my knee and tried doing it that way. Better. I was wearing a sundress, so all I had to do was slip on the capris. Thankfully, the first pair that I tried on fit beautifully. Okay. I would buy one khaki and one navy blue and be done. Whew. Much easier than I thought it would be.
I did wonder if everyone has the same WHAT THE FUCK?! moment when they look in the mirror, though. Are my thighs truly that chubby? I mean, there were a few dimples there. And Jesus on a Pancake, my skin was such a deathly shade of white that if it weren't for my freckled nose and dark eyebrows, I could pass as an albino. I was amazed at all the tiny bruises everywhere. At every doctor appointment, the nurse says that she is legally obliged to ask me if I live in a safe environment, that I am not being abused in any way. Now, I wonder if it isn't because I look as if someone has been shoving me into walls. And my toenails? God, they looked kind of....yellowish. Ick. It had been a long time since I had gazed at myself full frontal in a mirror. I wasn't impressed. I thought of a statue that my old friend, Terri, had sent me. It held a maiden holding a flower standing next to a mother holding a baby and then, lastly, an old crone holding a book of wisdom. That was me, all right. I had definitely slid into crone territory.
I slowly gathered my belongings up and took them to the counter. Endured the sales person's pitch about joining their bargain club. Talked about the weather politely. Dropped my credit card on the floor. Twice. Bent down very carefully to pick it up twice. When the sales person handed me the credit card back at last, I had to struggle a bit to get it back in my wallet as my fingers did not want to cooperate. I looked up into her eyes and saw pity and a gentle understanding and felt embarrassed, but grateful.
I took up my bags and went to go out the door.
Could NOT get the door to open. No matter how much I pushed, I simply did not have the strength to open that door. I bit my lip. Shit. Fuck.
And then, the sales person was beside me, a very kind smile on her face.
"These windy, rainy days are awful, aren't they?" she said. "I can't tell you how many people just can't get that door open. Let's try together."
It was a lie. I knew that. So did she. But, it was such a kind one. Together, we pushed and the door swished open. I thanked her and went out into the pitter patter of the rain to my car. I got in and hurriedly turned it on and turned the heat to high. Sat there until the vents blew warm on my chapped cheeks. Then, I reached into my bag for my Starbucks card. I deserved my flat white today.
Sipping my drink on the ride home, I ruminated on how much my life has changed since cancer found me. I used to dislike shopping for clothes. Now I hate shopping for clothes. Shopping reminds me of how incredibly frail I have become. Or as T, says, "I worry about you getting robbed or carjacked because you are such an easy mark." I bristled when she said that, told her that I would just like to SEE some creep try to take on ME. But, now, I have to be honest.
I am an easy mark. I could so easily be hurt. Knock me down and I can no longer spring up to my feet. Every bone in my body hurts sometimes. My skin is soft as a rose petal, but thin as rice paper.
I am no longer robust and healthy. I am frail and weak. Time to face facts. I mean, look at me....I DROPPED my credit card, not just once, but TWICE. And then, it took me a while to get it back into my wallet. My fingers are now a crone's fingers.
But, I'm still here. I can still take you down in a debate.
Just don't challenge me to a game of table tennis.
Let's play chess instead.
But, I really needed some new capris. My old ones, worn last Summer, were made of cotton and had been worn to a deep softness, but that also meant that they ripped easily. I also had a few pair that I wore to my chemo and arsenic treatments and frankly, just looking at them gave me ptsd.
I decided to go shopping. I waited until early afternoon when I usually feel the most strong. As luck would have it, it was raining again....but it seems to be raining all the time these days, so I let it go. I made sure that I had sipped my protein drink. I was well hydrated. The last thing I wanted was to have leg cramps.
Because of the rain, probably, my joints seemed to be aching worse than usual. I thought about postponing this until T could come with me. She was still in school until the week after Memorial Day due to all the snow days we had this Winter. But, bringing her with me would have its own special problems.
We don't shop well together. T loves to search for bargains. I have always hated shopping and tend to have a good idea of what I want and once I find it, I try it on and buy it. I don't wander around the store looking for better buys. T would drive me insane in a woman's clothing shop. Our tastes are very different, too. While I prefer functional, but pretty clothes....T has taste that I unkindly refer to as aging dyke. She likes plaid. A lot. No. I wanted to get in and out quickly. Without plaid. I would do this alone. I had shopped for myself for our entire marriage. I would do this alone. Now.
I got into the car and backed down the driveway, only to have the tire pressure light come on.
Shit. A delay. I drove to Jiffy Lube, just a few blocks away and a lovely boy who looked not a day over 12 checked my tires, pronounced them all a little low and re-inflated them. (Thank you boy in the red hoodie....I gave you a five dollar tip and it wasn't nearly enough because not once did you call me Ma'am.)
On to shopping. I went to the shop in the strip mall that I always go to and was delighted and not so delighted that there was only one other customer. Delighted because I could take my time. Not delighted because I hate it when sales people follow me around, making small talk with me. I was pleased when I was greeted and left alone.
I immediately found several capris in my size and color that were made of cotton and went into a dressing room.
And collapsed. I sat down carefully on the bench after hanging up all the clothes. I felt as if I could curl up on the bench and sleep. My arms suddenly felt as if they weighed 20 pounds a piece. My hands were shaking violently. I bent over to untie my shoe and the room suddenly began to spin.
This was not an auspicious start. I sat back carefully, put my hands in my lap and just breathed in and out. In and out. In and out. Slowly, I felt my body relax. I caught my breath, half disgusted with myself. It wasn't that I was surprised. This happens when I awaken every morning. I get up and get dressed and make my bed. And then, before eating, I have to rest in my chair for a few moments. I just have no stamina. Whatsoever.
I started worrying that a sales person would come check on me. So...this time, instead of bending over to untie my shoe, I put my foot up on my knee and tried doing it that way. Better. I was wearing a sundress, so all I had to do was slip on the capris. Thankfully, the first pair that I tried on fit beautifully. Okay. I would buy one khaki and one navy blue and be done. Whew. Much easier than I thought it would be.
I did wonder if everyone has the same WHAT THE FUCK?! moment when they look in the mirror, though. Are my thighs truly that chubby? I mean, there were a few dimples there. And Jesus on a Pancake, my skin was such a deathly shade of white that if it weren't for my freckled nose and dark eyebrows, I could pass as an albino. I was amazed at all the tiny bruises everywhere. At every doctor appointment, the nurse says that she is legally obliged to ask me if I live in a safe environment, that I am not being abused in any way. Now, I wonder if it isn't because I look as if someone has been shoving me into walls. And my toenails? God, they looked kind of....yellowish. Ick. It had been a long time since I had gazed at myself full frontal in a mirror. I wasn't impressed. I thought of a statue that my old friend, Terri, had sent me. It held a maiden holding a flower standing next to a mother holding a baby and then, lastly, an old crone holding a book of wisdom. That was me, all right. I had definitely slid into crone territory.
I slowly gathered my belongings up and took them to the counter. Endured the sales person's pitch about joining their bargain club. Talked about the weather politely. Dropped my credit card on the floor. Twice. Bent down very carefully to pick it up twice. When the sales person handed me the credit card back at last, I had to struggle a bit to get it back in my wallet as my fingers did not want to cooperate. I looked up into her eyes and saw pity and a gentle understanding and felt embarrassed, but grateful.
I took up my bags and went to go out the door.
Could NOT get the door to open. No matter how much I pushed, I simply did not have the strength to open that door. I bit my lip. Shit. Fuck.
And then, the sales person was beside me, a very kind smile on her face.
"These windy, rainy days are awful, aren't they?" she said. "I can't tell you how many people just can't get that door open. Let's try together."
It was a lie. I knew that. So did she. But, it was such a kind one. Together, we pushed and the door swished open. I thanked her and went out into the pitter patter of the rain to my car. I got in and hurriedly turned it on and turned the heat to high. Sat there until the vents blew warm on my chapped cheeks. Then, I reached into my bag for my Starbucks card. I deserved my flat white today.
Sipping my drink on the ride home, I ruminated on how much my life has changed since cancer found me. I used to dislike shopping for clothes. Now I hate shopping for clothes. Shopping reminds me of how incredibly frail I have become. Or as T, says, "I worry about you getting robbed or carjacked because you are such an easy mark." I bristled when she said that, told her that I would just like to SEE some creep try to take on ME. But, now, I have to be honest.
I am an easy mark. I could so easily be hurt. Knock me down and I can no longer spring up to my feet. Every bone in my body hurts sometimes. My skin is soft as a rose petal, but thin as rice paper.
I am no longer robust and healthy. I am frail and weak. Time to face facts. I mean, look at me....I DROPPED my credit card, not just once, but TWICE. And then, it took me a while to get it back into my wallet. My fingers are now a crone's fingers.
But, I'm still here. I can still take you down in a debate.
Just don't challenge me to a game of table tennis.
Let's play chess instead.
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