Day one of wearing a headscarf.
So much of this shit reminds me of being 12 or 14 or some horrible age when I couldn't look anyone in the eye and my body was a traitor and I was invisible yet exposed all the time. No one saw me, but everyone saw me. I felt like I became these changes...the too big boobs, the greasy hair, the zits. Now it's the lopsided boobs, the lack of hair, and cruelly, still the zits. (Thanks steroids!) These changes has given me this other-ness, that others can't see past. I'm cancer girl now, and that's all.
That's how I felt then, in middle school, looking at the floor when I walked through the halls. Now of course I know that that wasn't true, that no one was looking at me and judging me, at least not more than they were judging themselves. But now I'm not sure.
It's the time of the week when the chemo side effects mess with my taste buds. Dessert is the only category of food that doesn't taste like metal. So cookies for dinner? Under consideration.