Name Tags to Warn Others of Our State of Mind

May 12, 2009

For those of you who’ve never had chemo, I’m going to give you a short example of what we call “chemo brain,” and how it can affect the daily lives of cancer patients.

Most people can surmise that chemotherapy drugs are very strong and not well tolerated in general. They carry with them a host of terrible side effects as well as lead to future diseases just by their administration. Given these facts, it shouldn’t be difficult to imagine that chemo can have mental side effects as well.

However, it was only relatively recently that science has admitted that “chemo brain” actually exists. Although they still cannot pinpoint exactly how chemo affects human memory, at least they’ve documented that it does. Not that most cancer patients need anyone to tell them this information anyway. We live it everyday!

Let me tell you a quick story about a “chemo brain moment” that just happened to me earlier this afternoon. And then I’ll explain why I’m thankful for it.

My friend, Ben, owns a pickup truck. I need to borrow it this evening overnight to move a couple of things. Our plan is to switch vehicles; I will drive his truck and he my Jetta. Then we will switch back in 2 days.

So this morning, I was grabbing my keys to head to the gym, like most mornings. When I suddenly had a moment of apparent clarity. “I’d better make sure I don’t give my house key to Ben or I won’t be able to get back in when I come home Wednesday night.” So I took my house key off of my key chain and set it aside on the counter with other important items that I must not forget to take Up North with me this evening.

Feeling proud that I remembered something in advance, I secretly gloated just a touch. My wife, Amy, is always teasing me about things I forget, so I pictured her being impressed that I didn’t forget this one small detail.

So I headed off to the gym for a fantastic workout and returned home about 90 minutes later. As I walked towards the door, I searched my key chain, like always, to locate the correct jagged metal instrument that will give me access to my house, and my lunch. As I toggled between the keys, I kept flipping between the two that normally surround my house key. “Hmmm, that’s weird. How can it be that my house key….THUD!!!” And there it was. The realization that I have just locked myself out of my own house!! The sound of the obvious hit me like a ton of bricks. “Oh my Gawd! I took my house key off and put it on the kitchen counter before I left the house!! Are you kidding me Chemo Brain?” I started cracking up, out loud, right there in my driveway. I was actually bent over laughing, holding my now overworked abs. ‘Amy is never going to let me live this one down.’ Damn, how quickly a little perspective can change an outcome.

Still laughing, I quickly realized that I needed to call someone with a key to let my dumb ass in the house. Since Amy was working, she wouldn’t be able to help, so I didn’t even call her. I called her Mother. We had a good laugh about it when she got there a few minutes later as she’s a cancer survivor too.

So why in the world would I be thankful for my chemo brain you’re thinking??? For starters, I got a jolly-good belly laugh out of the whole thing. And while I waited for Shirley to show up with her key, I was able to pull up a lounge chair and ataman from the deck. This allowed me to steal a few solitary moments, soaking in the early Spring sun here in Michigan. I just sat there quietly, enjoying the warmth and listening to the birds chirping. Now tell me, how could you not be thankful for a catalyst that put you into a scene like this?