I had a horrible dream about wearing makeup again! The smell of it! The feel of the foundation on my face! (Shuddering)
I haven’t worn makeup since the last of my treatment. I threw out over $200 worth of palettes!
I really loved my highlights. So I miss those.
I suppose I was dreaming of makeup because I was discussing side effects of my treatment.
More importantly how smart I was to wait before I started working again because the rumble bum was awful. Even now Standing in Second booth, having bloating and gas with the fan on made an explosive combination!
My mom was aghast. “Why are you so disgusting? No wonder you’re single! You talk so disgusting!”
I was kind of hurt. I was discussing cancer and medical issues and she was worried about me offending the opposite sex?! Get bent!
So I moved onto from my side effects to how I was paranoid I couldn’t differentiate between the pain from my diverticulitis or my hernia. Because my pain tolerance was askew thanks to the tumour I had.
She stared at me. “Don’t try to change the subject! I can’t get you married if you don’t grow up!”
“What would be the point of being married?” I exclaimed. “You can’t have any more grandkids!”
She glared at me “someone to take care of you”
I don’t care about marriage. I wanted to talk about my cancer. This is why I don’t like talking about anything related to my cancer.
I am made to feel guilty. I am made to feel like a “pick me” girl. And a humble brag.