Health and Fitness : Laugh With Kathy - The Way People Treat You

*In recognition of October being Breast Cancer Awareness month, Dean and Val have asked me to share some stories from my book Laugh With Kathy, Finding humor in the journey through breast cancer. Each week day during October, I will post an excerpt from my book on Vinton Today. Our hope it that these articles will give you a glimpse into what it takes to beat breast cancer. Proceeds from books sold in October on Amazon and from my website will benefit the Survivors of Benton County. Please note that I was diagnosed with breast cancer four years ago, had two years of treatment and I am now living cancer free. www.laughwithkathy.com Getting my single hair cut before my son's wedding. Friday, May 3, 2013: One of my observations has been about the way people treat you when you have cancer. It fascinates me that I feel the same, but people treat me differently. In the early stages, people would hug me like I was fragile or like my chest must hurt. I would tell them to "hug me like you mean it."� Breast cancer doesn't hurt. Once you lose your hair, all bets are off. It is hard to go unnoticed. When you are out in public, people tend to go one of two ways. Either they can't look you in the eye, or they treat you really, really nicely. I have had the best service at restaurants since becoming bald. I kid you not. My water glass is never empty. I seem to get served extra-large portions. If I pull my jacket around my shoulders, the manager turns up the heat in the restaurant. I watched my ice melt and Gene and the other customers sweat bullets at one restaurant until I finally relented and removed my jacket. Another observation is that people let you cut in line. They don't just let you; they practically beg you to. I find it amusing. And as long as I'm bald, I will never have to carry my own groceries. I'm telling you, a less respectable person could really take advantage of this cancer thing. When my mom was here, she commented that no one would even know I had cancer except for the bald head and missing eyebrows and eyelashes. I cocked my head, thought about it, and tried not to laugh. I'm sure there was a compliment in there somewhere. I think the best advice I got was from my two mentors, Julie and Chris. Early on, they told me that my job was to take care of myself, to do what made me comfortable, and to let everyone else get over it. I didn't fully understand that at first, but over time, I have understood what they are talking about. Wear a wig if you want to. Wear a hat or go bald if that is what you want. Wear your prosthetic or not. Get creative with scarves or jackets, or just accept that your temporary breasts aren't level. Celebrating the end of chemo with friends and releasing some balloons. Comparing hair length with my brother-in-law. Since I can't wear my prosthetic breast during radiation, I'm dealing with that last one daily. I wear a camisole with a pocket that holds quilt batting on one side, and I sag on the other side. As mentioned previously, Gene and Danielle have devised a signal for "your breast is on your shoulder"� that has me rearranging now and then. We just laugh as I shift and adjust. Nice to know they have my back (or front!). Fortunately, when I'm around my family, they understand my humor and keep me laughing. I recently had a photo taken with my brother-in-law as we compared "haircuts" and tried to decide whose hair was longer. We called it a draw.