(Original title – Diagon Alley)

So, things they don’t tell you about having cancer in the movies (which I’m sure varies greatly from cancer to cancer):

• There are so many appointments.
• There are so many tests before you’re even diagnosed. You don’t just go to the doctor and hear “fyi, you have cancer”. I had a really solid idea I had cancer after the first of my five diagnostic processes.
• I hope you like blood and needles, because this is your life now.
• Cancer hurts. Not the treatment, the cancer itself hurts.
• There’s a whole lot of waiting, which I hope you like because waiting is also your life now.
• Chemo doesn’t take very long to administer. I have two different drugs at the moment (AC – doxorubicin and cyclophosphamide) administered in separate lots.
• Hospital, insurance, loan, everything. So many paperworks.
• Depending on your chemo, your hair may not fall out at all. Or it will fall out quickly, except for this weird blonde hair that is so freaking stubborn and just sticks up everywhere.
• Most of your body hair might fall out, or thin dramatically, and two weeks after shaving your legs, you’ll still only have stubble on them. This is a bonus.
• Forced resting because of exhaustion is not the same as resting when you’re on holiday.
• Boredom is also your life.

I don’t know about anyone else who has undergone cancer treatment, but I feel oddly popular and a pariah all at the same time. Even with a dozen people around me, I feel alone, and the further I progress through treatment, the more that isolation grows. I look like a cancer patient. When the exhaustion sets in around 2pm every day, I feel like a cancer patient. I have days where I feel completely and utterly normal, and others where I don’t want to wake up because I’m so exhausted. Usually, I spend my days sitting on the couch alternating between staring out the window with my cat and watching TV. Then my eyes get sore or my back gets sore and I have to move around or take a nap or take more painkillers.