CHEMO CLOTHES GET A NEW BELT NOTCH

You’ve heard of ‘chemo clothes?’

That’s what you wear after getting the hell chemo-ed out of you, (hell = cancer.)

Either that or you’ll be walking around like a kid in big boy trousers that don’t fit, but might some day.

Today is that day. But it’s more about the belt.

I’ve had my belt on the same notch for five years.

Starting at 195 lbs of dehydrated chemo trash, I’ve pumped back up.

“What’s going on with your gut,” is the compliment paid by my wife.

Beer gut? Food gut?

No Chemo Gut

No one has a chemo gut sticking out there like Santa after a big binge.

If there’s any gut, it’s loose skin where a good gut used to be.

It may jiggle, it may sway, but it’s not what it used to be, which was a firm barrel of nutritional excess.

You could say the same about the rest of your skin, too. Loose.

The old saying about loving the skin you’re in? Now you’ve got a lot more of it.

My best example is soaking a garbage bag, tie it to your shoulder with your hand poked through the bottom. That’s chemo skin for chemo clothes, two loose layers.

About That Belt

It’s been on the same notch for five years because I’ve been cinching it up like a bull rider strapping up in the chute.

“Can you even breath,” wife asked?

“After I get used to the compression.”

“Why don’t you loosen it up?”

“Because it’s not too tight.”

“Looks tight.”

“I can get a finger in between, like a dog leash.”

“Better be your little finger.”

Tell me if you’re heard this before: My wife was right.

Do me a favor and let’s keep it between us on the blog. She was right, but she doesn’t need to know right away.

And yes, I can breath easier. The bruise on my hip where the cinched belt rubbed is going away, too.

All in all, I’d call this a breakthrough day, and who doesn’t like breakthrough days.

Missing My Chemo Clothes

The beautiful stretch jeans with an intricate pattern woven in? Expensive and good looking like a matador.

Smooth to wear, but they don’t fit.

My army shirt from 1974 fit better on chemo then it did back then. Not any more.

The snap button front short sleeved western shirts? The button pop now, and I couldn’t be happier.

When the weight came off my body it came from an unexpected placed: my shoulders, traps, and upper back.

I thinned out enough to look vaguely European.

The top pic is just before chemo:

This is my driver’s license picture.

Who complains about their driver’s license picture? Everyone.

Here I am looking like Little Face from the Dick Tracy movie.

I’d just pumped up twenty pounds from a svelte 240 to 260 on doctor’s orders.

The recommendation came after a neck cancer diagnosis.

No matter what you hear about cancer, it being a gift, or an awakening, or a revelation on what to do for the rest of your life, for me it was a green light to hog down like a competitive eater with no concern for health.

Just load up and keep going. Either that or get a hole drilled into my gut for a ‘feeding tube.’

Those were the choices before chemo and radiation. Yes, I will have thirds instead of a tube infection.

Fashion Choices

If your wife wants to dress you up like a Ken doll during chemo, why not?

Besides, you’ve got more to focus on than the latest style.

Keep your mind right before chemo appointments. Don’t balk at the last moment.

Be engaging during chemo, but not too engaging. Some people don’t want to engage because they’re super angry for being singled out by cancer.

Pro Tip: No one is too special for cancer, but not everyone agrees.

A few months after chemo, drop by the clinic and say hello. Let the nurses and techs see you survived and thrived because of them.

They may seem indifferent, but they’re working to get others to the place you landed.

Your thanks means more than you’ll know

Be sure and dress up for the visit. If you’re looking good, you’re feeling good.