Cancer does not make you wise. That’s a secret we don’t like to admit to, but it’s true. Cancer does not mean that you stop making mistakes or the occasional error in judgement. I am fortunate, that I am practically perfect in everyday, but that does still leave some room for, you know, the occasional lapse in judgement.
It would be fair to say that I had a lapse in judgement last week. I knew it was coming. I had shaved off my hair and I was feeling weak. All so very weak. I needed a pick me up. I could feel it clawing away at my psyche, telling me that I needed to look better, but more crucially, that I could easily look better if only I invested a bit of time and money. The problem here however, is that I have no money. I do however have a credit card and my, do I know how it use it. It is also apparent that I have absolutely no self control. The excellent part about whatever came over me last Saturday afternoon, is that I did it all from the comfort of Mamma Jones’ sofa. No walking around shops for me. I can’t do that anyway. I have myeloma.
To be clear, ‘all’ means quite a lot of purchases with fake money. It is people like me who make this economy work. Cancer patients. Well, maybe not, I think there is a hole in my logic. We buy on credit and then have no hope of ever paying it back. In your face Barclays. In your face. Hello new stuff.
This week, there has been a steady flow of parcels coming to my front door. It has been lovely. Fake money and immense guilt aside, I have received, two pairs of shoes, two dresses, two skirts, a top, four pairs of earrings, two necklaces and a wig. There may well be the odd thing that is still outstanding, but only time will tell. Or Royal Mail.
I know it is wrong, but I feel so much better. I know that all this stuff will vastly improve my quality of life. It makes me hotter than I was before, and I know that I have the ability to be hot, even with my current, generous display of scalp. This new stuff, is going to make you tell me that you are in love with me, because you are. I can sense it.
In short, the retail therapy worked. It worked in Pretty Woman didn’t it? She may have been a prostitute, but I have myeloma. I deserved it more than she did, but I only had a credit card to hand. The spree made me stronger. I have new stuff. And as my six year old niece told me today, I am so ‘fash-ON’. She is wise, all so very wise. Probably wiser than me, but I can be forgiven. I have cancer don’t you know.
And that is my cancer card played for the week. Or maybe month, if something else does not come along to upset me.