Ive got a fantastic excuse for all those irritating things that cause hiccups in my daily path its called chemo brain! The wonderful Dr. Z (see above) warned me about this during our first consultation. Youll be tired, youll lose all your hair, you might get numbness in your extremities, youll get sores in your mouth, you could sunburned more easily, youll get chemo brain, youll HANG ON! I interrupted. You have to shout to get a word in edge-wise with Dr Z. Hes from Brooklyn and talks as if hes addressing the top row of the bleachers in a large football stadium. What the heck is chemo brain ? I asked, hoping it wasnt terminal.
Turns out that when youre on chemo, at least breast cancer chemo, your memory can get a bit iffy. This was not the best news to give a middle-aged woman whose memory is already a shadow of its former iron-clad self. Dont worry it usually comes back, he continued. Now, Dr. Z might have thought this was reassuring, but usually was not what Id hoped to hear.
There didnt seem much point worrying about something beyond my control, so, looking to put a positive spin on the situation, I announced to my husband that the next time I called him Toby (the dog) or Barnaby (the cat), he was to understand that my brain was clouded and it was all the chemos fault. He looked at me over the top of his reading glasses and rolled his eyes. What is it with men? Just because he can remember everything thats happened since this morning.
I quickly got into the swing of blaming everything on chemo brain, though, to be honest, I dont think my memory is any worse than it was. But youve got to admit its a great excuse. And it is, of course, the reason I left my cell phone in the bottom of the salad spinner and thus, finally, joined my daughters Sopping Wet Cell Phone Club.
I know it sounds funny, but Im really annoyed with myself. How stupid oooh, no, poor thing, dont you know she has chemo brain. She cant think straight! Well, what happened was this. I was talking to my mother as I went off to my vegetable garden to pick lettuce for dinner. Having hung up, I cursed my pocketless skirtand tried tucking the phone into my bra. That didnt work because every time I bent over to pick something the phone fell out. So when it finally landed in the salad spinner, I left it there. Seemed a good temporary solution. I wandered off to the front flower beds to add some nasturtium flowers and leaves to the mix, and to check on the tomatoes. I picked two early ripe ones. Had a chat with a neighbor. Gave my nephew, Lucas, directions for his run. Did some weeding. Went inside and had a chat with my brother, Andrew, visiting from Jamaica, while I ran water over the salad, giving it a good swish.
The phone bobbed to the surface. NO!!! Dead as a dodo. I charged upstairs to the bathroom to get the hairdryer, took out the battery, water dripping from the microphone and out of the keypad. Id recently coached Emma on how to dry her wet phone with a hairdryer, and shes back in business. But I dont think her phone had actually been submerged like mine.
Being the sort of person who tends to have a Plan B up her sleeve, Im thinking that if I cant get my dear little phone back in action, maybe its a sign that I should upgrade to something a bit fancier. I wonder if the nice people at Verizon give discounts on a Droid to people with chemo brain?
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