Call It Courage

I had no intention of blogging today. I actually intended to go out, grab lunch, and work on other projects of interest, out of the confines of the home that I have been shut up in for over a week now. To escape to the Land of the Living. As I left my home, I made what I assumed would be a small decision. One that I thought I would be good with and that wouldn't effect me nearly as much as it is. I left home without a head covering. 

So you fully understand, this isn't the first time I have done this. I regularly drop my daughter off at daycare and drive around in my car without a head wrap. I can now walk around my home and accept visitors with little to no hesitation, balder than the day I was born (which, to be honest, wasn't very bald, at all). I am around people who know me, know my battle, and love me as other than cancer. I did not expect to feel much different when I ventured out in to the general populace.

Man, what I would do for a scarf right now. As I sit in the restaurant, I briefly consider making a dash into the clothing store next door and buying one. I won't because that somehow seems weak. Like I am letting cancer win. And I'm not going to readily give it one more inch than it has already taken. Still, my hands are shaking and my cheeks flame as I realize how valiantly people are trying to avoid letting their eyes settle on me. Not that I am a big deal, or even that much of an oddity, once you think about. Cancer is only too common in the world we live in. However, I am sticking out a little bit more than my hastily-made decision originally accounted for. My waitress, at least, is an angel and will be receiving a gratuitous thank you from me by the time I leave here. She is very careful to not let her eyes wander to my scalp and I can tell she is trying to show me that my appearance didn't shock her when she rounded the column I am being partially obscured by. Even though it did. Bless her.

What's funny is that I almost feel more comfortable with the man who smiled and nodded when we locked gazes, versus the ones that guiltily glance away. I am obviously trying to embrace a real occurrence in my life- no use pretending that I am not bald. Because I obviously am. He acknowledged it and moved on. I appreciate that.

This moment is a big moment for me because it is the first time I have truly felt brave since beginning my battle with cancer. I have been told many times since August that I am a brave person, that battling cancer takes courage, but I disagree. Not that it isn't hard to look death, or treatment, in the face, but simply put: it isn't optional. I fight cancer because I have no other choice. I feel true bravery requires one to have an option to not be brave- to run away. Like how I feel siting in this small cafe. Every time the door opens, and a new pair of eyes enter the room, I fight the urge to hide or to make an excuse for my appearance. I am, moment by moment, forcing myself to accept where life has brought me. I believe this is a good exercise in embracing suffering and moving past it. Sometimes, the best way to deal with pain is to experience it, take a deep breath, and realize, in the grand array of suffering, this is a mere discomfort.