February 20, 2007

Hot Damm!

Scene takes place at a local café, while I’m talking for a few minutes with another mom during children’s storytime.

Me: “Is it hot in here or is it me?”
Mom: “It IS a bit warm in here. But you’re also drinking hot latte. [Touching my forhead] You don’t have a fever.”
Me: “Man… I’m so hot I want to take off my shirt and go bury my chest in the snow”
Mom: [blinks and looks away, not knowing what to say]
Me: “Sorry, that was too much information, wasn’t it?

------------------- an hour later-------------------

Scene takes place on the street; it’s 20F and the wind chill makes it feels like 11F. I’ve bumped into my babysitter’s mom, Jenny, who was a Dr. in South America. While talking with her I begin opening my coat, removing my scarf, taking off my gloves and finally my hat.

Jenny: “Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing out here.”
Me: “No… I’m actually kinda hot.”
Jenny: “How many layers of clothing do you have on?” [I’m known for my layering. Tammi doesn’t know this but when I met her for dinner I had wool/cashmere blend tights, a pair of leggings under a pair of corduroy pants. Over all my clothing I wore my Michelin style, full-length (sub-zero) down coat.]
Me: I’m wearing just 2 light shirts and 2 pants under my down coat. [I remove my coat to show her.]
Jenny: Let me see… [touches my forhead], you don’t have a fever. [she asks lots of medical questions, which I answer]. Hmm, you’re too young to be going through the change.
Me: What change?
Jenny: You know…the change [she says frowning at me for not getting her meaning.]
Me: What change?
Jenny: The…. change [she says speaking slowly as if talking to a retarded child].
Me: “Who’s on first?”
Jenny: “What?....”
Me: “What’s on second.”
Jenny: “What are you talking about?” [she’s got major frowning action going on now].
Me: “I don’t know [“he’s on 3rd”]. I have no idea what YOU”RE talking about.”
Jenny: “Well it doesn’t matter because you’re too young to be going through it anyway.”
Me: “Well, thank you for that non-diagnosis, Dr!”
Jenny: [She laughs, but I’m wondering if she really understands my sense of humor.]

------------------- 2 hours later-------------------

Scene takes place in my kitchen. As I wrestle with dinner options I call my blog-bro _Jon..

Me: "Jon, can I ask you a question about your wife’s chemo treatment? Do you mind?"
Jon: "Not at all. What do you want to know?"
Me: "I’m having insane cravings: Today I bought anchovies, feta cheese and olives for my dinner. Did she ever get cravings for foods like that?"
Jon: "Yep, she had some pretty strange requests."
Me: "Okay, I’m glad to know it’s not just me."
Jon: "No, it’s not just you. Oh by the way, she also had some major hot flashes."
Me: "Oh. My. God… I thought I was either going crazy or there was something seriously wrong with me. How did you know I needed to know that?"
Jon: "I just figured you did because it’s all part of the chemotherapy."
Me: "Oh, I can’t believe it… so that’s what’s been going on?" [I momentarily think about sharing how I wanted to take off my clothes and bury my chest in the snow earlier, but the look of that mom’s face came back to me, so I spared him. Some things are better left unsaid.]

Lucky for me I have this blog, so I can remind myself – it’s the chemo stupid – if I forget!

Jon, one more question. Is insomnia also part of this? It's 3:00am and I'm still not yet sleepy.

Posted by Michele at February 20, 2007 03:00 AM | TrackBack

That would have made a very interesting snow angel!

Posted by: Stephen Macklin at February 20, 2007 08:43 AM

I wouldn't worry if any one 'gets' your sense of humor. The fact you have one puts you far ahead of all the sourpusses. I'd say hang in there but maybe it's more appropriate to say "Hang OUT there" Ok, so my sense of humor is odd. :D By the way, I agree with Stephen. LOL, I can see it in Central Park!

Posted by: Lemon Stand at February 20, 2007 08:50 AM

Having not gone through the "Change" myself, I really couldn't tell you *all* of the _details_.



Posted by: _Jon at February 20, 2007 09:22 AM

with all those layers you could seriously live in Alaska! I don't even wear a coat. . . maybe I'm going through the Change!

Do you think that if I told voters I'm going through the Change, they'd take me more seriously? I could tell them, "I look incredibly young for my age . . . but *whispers* I'm going through the Change . . . don't tell anyone *wink*"

Posted by: oddybobo at February 20, 2007 11:32 AM

Nice to know other people slip up and give "to much info". ;-)

Posted by: vw bug at February 20, 2007 07:46 PM

My m-i-l is going through chemo too, but would probably like to change symptoms with you...she can't handle anything cold. She has to put on gloves to get something out of the cold. Drinking something cold is, as she puts it, like 'drinking ground up glass'.

Posted by: Mrs. Who at February 20, 2007 09:08 PM

oops, I meant, get something out of the 'fridge'.

Posted by: Mrs. Who at February 20, 2007 10:14 PM

Hmm, Mrs. Who, your m-i-l may have something called "cold-induced uticaria". Very odd syndrome. I learned about it from a co-worker last week, and met the guy who has it this afternoon. Humid cold is to a "uticarian" like a thousand bee stings is to someone allergic to bees. Strange disease.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at February 20, 2007 11:33 PM

Well... just so you know... I'd have laughed. Funny snow angel!

Posted by: Bou at February 21, 2007 04:57 PM

Tuning Spork - It's not a disease, it's one of the side-effects of the chemotherapy drug Avastin, and is in fact THE most common side effect of the regimen she's currently on.

Her extreme sensitivity to cold (heat doesn't bother her at all) lasts for several days after her infusion, which she gets every two weeks. I would be totally miserable, since I wouldn't be able to drink an iced Coke - my oft-daily 'fix' - let alone even pull one from the fridge... It affects her mouth/throat, hands, feet and nose. I've watched her recoil and drop a soft drink can as she grabbed it out of the fridge without thinking. Now she keeps oven-mitts next to the fridge.

She's incredibly good-humored about it... She's 66, but looks like she's in her early 50's, and most people who meet her have absolutely no idea that she has metastatic cancer and is undergoing chemotherapy. In fact, her employer and co-workers still have no inkling after over a year!

Posted by: Bitterroot at February 22, 2007 08:43 AM

Heheheheh!!! Shoulda known someone would make a comment about the snow angel! Funny stuff...

Posted by: That 1 Guy at February 23, 2007 01:37 AM

Huh?... Sorry, after the whole snow-chest thing, I sorta started drifting off into this little fantasy... :-)

Posted by: Harvey at February 23, 2007 09:43 AM