#81 Look Away If You Must. (*Dad, Bobbo)

Today I drove to Toronto with our car that's still hanging on by a thread. Whatever. That's not the point but it adds a little stress to my experience. When you're driving an hour in traffic with a car that's tempermental it doesn't help the relaxation that's supposed to happen before a Vitamin C, Artesunate and B IV.

When I got to the clinic it took them forever to find a good vein, I ended up with that shit here.

It's not comfortable and the whole time it burns. So the experience is agitating.

Whatever. It's good for me. I survived and then I drove home in the potato hoping it wouldn't die.

I made it obvi. When I got home I thought I'd take a nice bath to relax me.

Here is where I'm going to advise those who aren't ready to see the real side of post chemo breast cancer, mastectomy, life to go back to tik tok or insta. I'm about to post some pics.

What do you think this is friends?

Maybe you wonder if Jason wandered in while I was in the bath to ask me to shave his neck.

No.

That's not the answer.

This my friends is what happens to the crotch when chemo kills all the hair and then the body decides to just grow it everywhere.

That's literally pubes from my crotch to my hip.

WHAT THE FUCK.

No one tells you this. I will tell you. Obviously I'm going to wax it off or shave it or whatever but....can. you. even.

I know you Italians out there might be able to relate but for me as a half Italian, before chemo it was like trimming a slow growing blonde bush. Now it's like I'm a 18 year old Arabian man. It's total garbage. Another way chemo and cancer are savage. Now I'm taking seriously the dollar shave club or whatever that shit is. NO joke. Send razors.

So while I sat there in the tub I thought, why not snap another shot. Does anyone wonder what my chest looks like now? I'm sure. Here's the waist up.

It's not perfect, theres some excess skin under my arms. Pinched where they removed my lymphatic system on the right, the left not so bad but still not flat. My chest in the middle pops out and my shoulders have lost all of their definition. This is the reality. No filter. I want people to see the reality of life after breast cancer. We just don't go back to normal, even if we're still alive and even if there are no signs of cancer in our cells. Even a bath can be a fucking experience.

Let's not even mention my forehead which is wrinkled and my hair which is...whatever.

I took the opportunity to survey my body. What's happening there. Here's my arm.

That was just a little bump the other day. I have matching bruises all over but for censorship purposes have left them out. You're welcome. LOL.

The other day I ran into somone who told me they used to worship my legs and then they asked me how I was and they proceeded to have a lenghty conversation with me about my hair, during which I could only think about how thick my hair was coming in not only on my head....if you get my point. I didn't mention the pubes. Obviously they'll know now what I was thinking.

Not gonna toot my own horn here but my legs have always been a topic of conversation. Just genetics. And relentless exercise but regardless, they they are. I thought about the phrase "Used to" and it made me feel a little angry and sad. I looked down at my legs and they looked up at me.

Check out these babies.

I've still got it.

Pubes up to my neck goddamn it.

No tits.

Hair like Chrisptopher Walken but fuck it.

I'm still me.

(Sorry Dad.... if you read the blog anyway...the imagery yikes)