Guinea Pigs and Other Rodents

"Shortly after my diagnosis, my doctor offered me the opportunity to participate in a clinical trial, and I eagerly accepted. He didn't use the term 'guinea pig', but that's how I saw myself. It didn't matter, though. I wanted every available weapon to fight my battle!

"The actual treatments using the trial drug began many months later. The drug was brutal, but by then I had learned the healing power of laughter. While browsing in one of those everything-costs-a-dollar stores, looking for something to amuse myself, I found a small face mask that was just a rubber nose with whiskers. It looked like a mouse's nose. Or maybe a rat's. Or maybe, I thought, a guinea pig's.

"At my next appointment, I sat on the table in the examining room sporting my shiny bald head, that oh-so-lovely hospital gown, my new nose and whiskers, and a terribly serious expression. When my doctor walked in, he asked (head down and looking at my chart), 'And how are we today?'

"I said in the saddest voice I could muster, 'I don't know about this clinical trial. I'm starting to feel like a guinea pig.'

"He looked up at me with a puzzled expression. A smile spread slowly across his face. Then he chuckled. then he started laughing. He laughed so hard he had to sit down. I laughed so much my sides hurt and tears rolled down my face. That rubber nose was the best dollar I ever spent." (Chicken Soup for the Breast Cancer Survivor's Soul, page 112)

I don't know if you find this story funny...I did...maybe you had to be there! But it gave me an idea for this week's Grace Notes. I've already mentioned how devastated I was when I started losing my hair. Certainly the wig helped. But mostly, I missed my eyelashes and eyebrows. So I became even more self-conscious about my appearance. There is a very fine line on how we view our physical bodies. On one hand, we can be obsessive and worry too much about the outward appearance. At the opposite extreme is where we don't care at all about hygiene or health. A good balance is in the middle...we are healthy (eat right and exercise) and "accentuate the positive" but we accept how we are and go on with life.

A cancer survivor contact of mine informed me of a support activity sponsored by the American Cancer Society entitled "Look Good, Feel Better". I went. Cosmetic companies and retail establishments donate merchandise to the cause. Local beauty experts (okay...maybe not experts, probably Stacey's Beauty School students) volunteer. I received a bag full of goodies including eyeliner, lip gloss, foundation, lotions...and suggestions on applying all that makeup on a face that wasn't the same as a few months ago. It was helpful and I used several of the techniques in the days to follow. It indeed made me feel better.

But as I thought about the name of the class, I wondered if the name needed to be enlarged by two little words: "Look (for the) good, and feel better." Humor and a positive outlook can make a big difference in the way we feel physically and, of course, emotionally. I would just bet the woman in the guinea pig story felt much better after releasing tears of humor in the doctor's office.

I need to work on this concept. I wish I had the "guts" to do something like put on a rat's nose and walk into a waiting room. Looking for the good, however, can even mean just replacing a negative thought with one more positive. For example, Negative: "Boy, it's cold today...I hate winter"; Positive: "Boy, it's cold today...one day closer to summer!" Hey, that makes me feel better already!

In case you can't come up with positive thoughts for today, here's a joke (keeping with the "rodent" theme). See if smiling and laughing make YOU feel better:

Hickory, dickory dock,
The mice ran up the clock,
The clock struck one,
And the others escaped with minor injuries.