August 25, 2007
At which point my fellow baldies would reply, "Hi Kathy," in an unexcited, battle weary, morale flagging monotone.
I can't blame them for not being excited. It's hard for me to work up the enthusiasm one would think would come part and parcel with such an announcement. Which, I have to say, I find weird. I was sure that by the time I got to this stage, finally being done with the extended mass murder of millions of my cells, healthy and not so healthy, that I would be jumping up and down for joy, thrilled that the extended hell of chemotherapy was done. But I'm not. I'm too tired to party, it seems. I can't even work up the enthusiasm to get one of those little doohickeys that you blow into at New Year's Eve parties, where your breath expands and unrolls a paper funnel and it a emits a cheerful little sound. I just can't be bothered. I'm finally off the roller coaster, for which I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but I'm too discombobulated to be truly thrilled the ride is finally over with.
But at least it's over with. Because, for a while there, the car of the roller coaster stopped five feet short of the platform, and I was unable to get off the stupid thing because of idiotic safety regulations.
If you're interested in the entire, windy, tale, take the jump. If not, feel free to skip. You have my blessing.
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02:11 PM
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August 16, 2007
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Ooooh, lookie. Mike Rowe's painting the Mackinac Bridge a pretty shade of green.
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with all due apologies to Jeff G. for stealing his schtick. Again. For, like, the fortieth time. Because, seriously, I got bupkiss right now. Let alone gray matter.
Posted by: Kathy at
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August 11, 2007
Crazy Sexy Cancer is an irreverent and uplifting documentary about a young woman looking for a cure and finding her life.In 2003, 31-year-old actress/photographer Kris Carr was diagnosed with a rare and incurable cancer. Weeks later she began filming her story. Taking a seemingly tragic situation and turning it into a creative expression, Kris shares her inspirational story of survival with courage, strength, and lots of humor.
With experimental treatment as her only option, Kris became determined to find answers where there were none. She traveled throughout the country interviewing experts in alternative medicine as she tenaciously dove head first into a fascinating and often hilarious holistic world. Along the way, she met other vivacious young women determined to become survivors. Their stories are as poignant and exciting as the women who tell them. As Kris's amazing journey unfolds, she realizes that healing is about truly living rather than fighting.
Crazy Sexy Cancer is more than a film, it's an attitude! It's about rising to the challenge of life, and no matter what, refusing to give up who you are at your core. This story is as funny as it is frightening, as joyous as it is outrageous. Ultimately, Crazy Sexy Cancer is a thought provoking film about, friendship, love and growing up.
Now, I don't want to get down on anyone telling their tale of survival over this beast of a disease. If I'm allowed, so are they. What I am going to go postal on, however, is the name of this documentary. Crazy Sexy Cancer?
What the fuck?
If you look at the title, and, just for fun, decided to diagram it, "cancer" would be your noun and "sexy" and "crazy" your adjectives. Adjectives, as any first grader could tell you, are meant to "enhance" your noun. Adjectives are meant to make a simple noun, like, say, "cancer," more descriptive. As far as our two adjectives here, "Crazy" is simple enough. It doesn't describe cancer in a technical way, but it does describe it, nonetheless. What I don't get, and won't ever get is how you could possibly describe cancer as "sexy." I ask you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, what could possibly be sexy about cancer? Cancer is, by definition, abnormal cell growth. Tumors. Stuff that shouldn't be there. Can tumors be sexy? Is there such a thing as MRI pr0n? Step right up, get your Pet Scan jollies right over here?
I think we all know what they're going for, and it isn't to highlight how sexy tumors are. It's rather about empowerment. It's about taking control of your disease, if you happen to be afflicted with this particular malady. It is, in essence, about highlighting all that Girl Power crap the Spice Girls foisted on us ten years ago. That's all well and good, but the inclusion of the word "sexy" in the title of this film, well, it just freakin' offends me. I can't tell you how much it makes my blood boil to hear cancer described as "sexy," let alone to receive the message that I, as a cancer patient, can be "sexy." Well whoop-de-freakin'-do. Thank you ever so bloody much. As if being "sexy" was the most important thing right now; as if sexiness is the only thing my soon-to-be renewed existence was meant to revolve around.
Cancer ain't sexy.
Being a cancer patient ain't sexy.
There is absolutely nothing sexy about the entire experience.
Is it sexy when you're recovering from having a tumor the size of a baseball cut out of you and you can barely wipe your own ass effectively because you're so weak and the IV tubing keeps getting in the way? Is that sexy? Is it sexy when you vomit bile and are unable to eat? Is it sexy when you can't walk four blocks to the grocery store for an entire month? Is it sexy when you're stuck for five hours at a time in a recliner at the oncologist's office, receiving the most toxic drugs a body can handle without dying (and even then some people do) intravenously? Are anemia and neutropenia---my two current maladies due to the chemo---sexy? Are blood disorders hot nowadays?
What the fuck?
None of these things are sexy. Nor do they have a flaming thing to do with sex appeal. It's cancer for chrissakes. IT'S NOT A SEXY EXPERIENCE. It's not meant to be. For God's sake, not everything that happens to you during this lifetime is meant to revolve around what makes someone happy in the pants. Furthermore, to try and sell it as a 'sexy' experience, or rather one wherein you, the victim of this disease, can still, reportedly, feel sexy is to cheapen the entire process. Because, as I've come to appreciate, you get cancer for a reason. That reason may be, in strict scientific terms, that you can't fight off tumors because of one genetic defect or another. Or it could be more metaphysical. It might just be that you got cancer because God thought you could handle it. That He decided there were lessons in this life that you were meant to learn and you could only do so by enduring this experience. I don't know, but if the only lesson I was meant to learn during this whole ordeal was that I could still be sexy while I'm as bald as a goddamn egg and sick as a dog, well, I'm going to be pissed off.
Cancer is not something Madison Avenue needs to sell. It's already being sold to one in three people around this world, and it's selling like hotcakes, I tell ya. Every damn day of every damn year. No one needs to hire an ad agency to sell cancer. The sales figures are doing just fine, thank you ever so much.
I wish the filmmaker well. I really do. I don't want to shit on her experience or what she learned during her experience with cancer. I'll tune in when the film airs. But she could have come up with a better title.
Posted by: Kathy at
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August 07, 2007
Comfy recliner notwithstanding, as you might guess, I've had a pretty shitty week so far.
You should really try and make me feel better by helping James out with a donation to his Walk to Cure Diabetes team.
If your donation is $50 or greater, you'll get a free Gooey Cake out of the deal, too.
AND IT'S TAX DEDUCTIBLE, MY DEVOTED CAKE EATER READERS!
{Ed. Oh, don't look at me like that. I warned you that a guilt sledge was probably coming your way. Don't be surprised that I actually wielded it.}
Posted by: Kathy at
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