Who’s That Girl?

Come one, come ALL! Come on DOWN! Get your tickets HERE!! And step right up... into the fun house called "My Life Right Now". Move over, final dance number in Grease, this one'll give you chills, they're multiplyin'...

There I was, the day I hadn't expected so soon to face. But would not only be forced to that day, but then every one thereafter for the next 6 months of my life or longer. I was about to lift the curtains I'd been so cozily hiding behind for forty years -- otherwise known as my hair. It was gutting. So I had to throw a party. [Record needle falls off player from overuse.] 

Some context? I'm a control freak. The least compromising when it comes to my life goals and happiness. And Cancer just hates that. Worse than how an RBF woman hates my incessant smiling. Instead Cancer wants to play hide-and-seek with my greatest fears like we're wavy-floor dancing through a house of mirrors until I just give up. Trouble is, I just keep bouncing back like p'shaw, yeah right! Cancer's SUCH a party-pooper. 

So of COURSE the control freak who can't control about ANYthing else happening to her body turns to what she CAN: The narrative. The soundtrack. And the big event. 

 You free tomorrow night? I first ask my mother as my husband begins dialing his. My sister and sister-in-law come next... then oops! the entire mile radius surrounding our house. "Knock on all their doors, baby," I request of my 10-year-old "baby" Gianna just begging with her eyes to be given something that resembles responsibility. "Tell them there'll be food, drinks, music... and a show. Because today's my buzzcut "B-Day"... and I need them there."

I put husband on dinner menu duty. Mom on dessert. What do you want, Lee? she asks using the nickname only she, my father, and Aunt Rita have ever been given the legal rights to using without a death-stare. I text back: Think: 5-year-old birthday party for Cindi Lauper, Mom. Just over-the-top. Spoiler alert: she delivered. Good thing ‘cause I simply HAD to trick my brain that this was something worth celebrating. 

It's 5:15 and my mother-in-law shows up with smiles, hugs, and mixed drinks in tow. Tonight's about to get lit. The experience designer in me immediately kicks in and I start building my music playlist. I only want to hear the songs I've been dancing to in the car and the shower for the last month since my diagnosis. The lyrics have nurtured my soul. Tom Petty, Katy Perry, Beyonce, Queen, The Beatles, Gaga... the authors of my hymnal book.  

Food and drinks? Check. Dope soundtrack? Check. Perfect weather and party people? Check. Before you knew it, it was poppin' like a mouthful of pink BubbleYum. 

I was staring out at a sea of my closest family, closest girlfriends (in person and via FaceTime) mixed with mostly new neighborly faces. Recognizing next how briefly we’ve all known each other. But feeling so much like Dorothy looking back at her yellow brick crew going “I feel like I’ve KNOWN you… but I couldn’t have, could I?”

Even my perfect Pippina (our dog Pippa’s nickname when she’s being extra good) couldn't leave my side. No leash, not even a collar. It was like she could just sense how much she was needed, and reported in for duty. It was either that or the pizza… 

Prosecco cocktail, and unicorn "Summer Bliss" cake [you NAILED it, Mom] later... and it was showtime. I turned to my courage juice [Montepulciano D'Abruzzo don't let me down now] for a generous swig or two more. 

What happened next was something of a bliss-filled dream. Not a single drop of tears. I was surrounded by so much loving support and music whose lyrics said everything I felt but with a deeper, more profound poetry I could never achieve here or elsewhere. The day I don’t need a replacement. I told ‘em what the smile on my face meant. My heart going boom boom boom…  

And in the end when I gazed into the mirror slowly and saw an unfamiliar young woman... some distant cousin of Sinead O’Connor, but on the Italian side... I felt loved. I felt strong. I felt beautiful for the first time.

And I knew I was going to be okay.