Every time I've come across an hour- or so long television programme devoted to extolling the virtues of a particular movie star, the first thing that comes to my mind is "uh-oh, he/she must be dying". Call me cynical but I'm very suspicious of unnecessary fawning.
This has come to mind because since my cancer diagnosis I have suddenly been told by so many people how beautiful I am. Flattering as this is (everyone wants to be told they're beautiful, after all) I am certainly no Angelina Jolie. Although I'm not a slob, I have enough self-respect to make sure that I leave the house with makeup and matching shoes. I've always believed in making the most of what a person has, without resorting to surgery and Botox*. However, the past month has been rough on me. Since the treatment, I now have to contend with:
1. a silly haircut and grey hair (no dyeing allowed)
2. a protrusion on my upper right arm which looks strangely like a third nipple (my portacath)
3. weight gain (I'm not exercising but am eating enough for three) and
4. bumps on my face (no-one told me about this!)
This is just the beginning of my problems because apart from most probably losing my hair, I may also lose my eyelashes and eyebrows. Which should give me a look of permanent surprise. Joy.
So, although I appreciate the kind words, I am realistic enough to know that I'm not looking my best. I promise though that I will not fall for the victim trap and start dragging my feet and wearing smelly old fleeces simply because I am ill. I will wear turbans, pretend the bumps are beauty marks, embrace my voluptuous figure and draw in my eyebrows. But you don't need to tell me that I'm beautiful. I relieve you of that responsibility. I'm not dying after all...
*Botox is one of the world's top ten deadliest poisons. If you're thinking about having it injected into your face, read this first: http://thexodirectory.com/2008/05/top-ten-worlds-deadliest-poisons/