Written Jul 10, 2012 9:51am by Renee Albracht
I just got done walking across campus to take care of some business. First of all, this is the first time I have walked across campus in a month or so. I haven't done it often in the past four months. Between the heat and my low energy level, I couldn't. My office is a block away from the heart of campus. This in itself is quite an achievement.
A few things happened along the way. I have known that since I started chemo, my brain has been functioning a bit slower than normal. The right word doesn't come to me right away. I have forgotten the phone number to check my office voice mail. Things that used to come to me so quickly take time. I recognize some faces, but can't remember where I know them from. (This only happens with things/people I rarely use/see.)
I am walking down a hall that is in the process of getting repainted. One of the painters stops me and we chat. This is nothing new. It happens all the time. I like talking to people. I like being nice to them. Too many people walk by them and don't even acknowledge they are there. I don't like that. He asked me how long I have been working here and I told him. Then, he said so has he and that we talk all the time. He asked if I remembered him.
I felt bad. I could tell by his tone, a hint of hurt in his voice, that he could tell as I was walking by that I did not recognize him. I usually would have. I told him the truth and told him why I didn't remember him. I don't randomly tell people I have cancer and that I am feeling a bit slow, but I felt I needed to tell him so that he didn't think that my waves and chats in the past were not genuine.
Later, a neighbor stopped me and asked if I was the sheriff. I said no and started to tell him who I worked for. He waved it off and laughed and said he was joking. I should have known he was joking. The neighbors know who we are. I would have caught on and made some silly comment back at him. Today, I just stood there a bit confused as to why he would think I was a sheriff.
Hopefully, through getting back into work and reading and editing my own stuff and working out, I can exercise my brain as well as my body. I think on the days I can't work, I will try to do something other than watch television to help with this.
I ran into a friend of mine, Joy, who works in housekeeping while on my way to the human resources office. When I saw her, she asked me how I liked her hair. It looked the same as always except that she was also wearing a white (can't think of the word) thing that sits on the top of your head to keep the hair back. I said I liked it. She also had her long hair cut short a few months ago.
As I got closer to her, she pulled up a photo on her phone and showed me that she had shaved her head in support of me! She actually shaved it bald!!! Her wig looked so natural! I gave her a big hug and nearly cried. Wow! It's one thing for a man to shave his head, but a woman? One with gorgeous, thick, black hair? She also told me that she is a big supporter of cancer research and that when she cut her hair, she had donated it to locks of love. This was before I found out I had cancer. She is an amazing woman and friend, and as she says, sister in Christ.
While walking back to my office, I noticed another change, a positive change. There is a sidewalk that runs along the soccer field. It is paved as any other sidewalk, but there is decorative brick on the right and on the left. Before, I would always walk on the far right side of the sidewalk, on the brick, trying to stay out of everyone else's way. Today, I was half way down the sidewalk before I realized I was walking smack dab in the middle.
This may not mean a thing, but I think it does. I think by walking so far to the right, almost in the grass, I was trying to remain invisible, like I have my entire life. The wall flower. By walking right on the line in the very center of the sidewalk, I think it's a sign that I'm no longer afraid to be seen. I'm no longer afraid to be out among the rest of the world. Cool!
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| My friend Joy. |
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