The hierarchy of sick

My mom and I were laughing the other day about people who like to compete with their feelings of sick - "You have a headache?! I've had a migraine for a week now!" - and how cancer nicely quiets those conversations. But this weekend I had a rare moment of just being tired of the whole game.

I did my usual feel up after showering yesterday, to see if my two lovely lumps were smaller? same? mutating? I rubbed my head dry and glanced in the mirror quickly and felt so exhausted. Give me a normal headache, a regular bad day, a run-of-the-mill sleepless night. I need a break from being cancer girl.

I think it's been the week of delivering Stella to school and seeing the moms I haven't seen all summer and facing a barrage of hair loss questions and sundry. I really don't mind the curiosity and feel fortunate every day for the support I get wherever I go, but man, sometimes a girl just likes to take a nice walk with her daughter and talk about everything but the c-dawg.

Part of it is my own fault. I could have gotten a wig that looks like my hair - to pass a little more often - but that is tiring in a whole other way. So I wear a scarf every day. It baffles my neighbour, who asks me every time I see her about some aspect of the wig alternatives available. "Are there just no good ones out there? Are they too itchy? Too expensive?" They make me feel like a fancy girl, and that's great sometimes, but eventually it feels like wearing high heels to watch TV.

The scarf is an easy option, but it's the signpost to cancer, no? Even the cleaning lady at our hotel in Osoyoos said to me one day, "Do you ALWAYS wear that scarf?" Everybody's a fashionista.

We're at Sunday and both my girls are sick, and man, what I wouldn't do to brag about a good old-fashioned cold or flu about now.