Party in the front, cancer in the back

I enjoy writing in my blog. I find it therapeutic, and I’m doing it mainly for myself, and also for Monkey and Bimble to read about when they’re older. I link my blog to my Facebook , Twitter, but I’m trying not to get too hung up on how many posts I get, or how many likes. I just enjoy writing. Of course, I can’t deny I feel a little frisson of excitement when I get comments or see a blog is “doing well”. I’m not a hard hitter by any means, as in, I barely have 100 views.

Which is why, I feel so humbled when people comment on my writing. Many people have said they like my style of writing – I just write the way I talk. I don’t use fancy words or Long sentences because I’m incapable of saying those things in normal Everyday conversation.

It seems that readers enjoy my little snippets of humour that I inject into my blog. I don’t really have an agenda of how this blog is going to be. Serious, humourous, who knows. It’s a bit of everything. It’s whatever takes my fancy at a particular time. Thank you for sharing my blog with people you think may be interested in reading, it does mean a lot to me.

Now – what on earth does the title of this post mean?? I’ve heard a few derivatives of this sentence :

“Busines in the front party in the back” means, from the front, you look like you’re ready for a day in the office. Sensible hair, reading glasses, no cleavage showing, sensible shoes. But from the back, your look, be it your clothes or hair, look like you’re ready to get down on it and party like it’s 1999 (or twerk, if I were to keep it relevant to today’s young people). Example – you may be baring your back with your tattoo showing on your lower back, hair that’s been teased or coloured etc. You get my drift right? References to this are from Fat Amy in Pitch Perfect, and a song by Karmin called Broken-hearted “Business in the front, party in the back, maybe I was wrong was the outfit really whack”. Etecetera.

Where does that leave me? Well, my last blog on my hair had many kind people commenting how the buzz cut suited me, my cheekbones popped, I should keep it like this all the time etc. I can’t deny, I felt kinda good. Because I thought that the look rocked too! There was even no filter on the photo. Got me thinking, chemo must be doing something right for my complexion.

Then – sigh. As with everything, reality hit. Monkey and Bimble can’t ever be anything but honest with me. They started pointing out the bald patches in the back of my head. Now, I’m not one to shy from the truth. And I feel, it’s important for me to share this with you. This blog ain’t just like “look at me! My life is wonderful even though I have cancer! I’m glowing! Look at my exercise! Aren’t I great? Aren’t I a role model for all those with cancer?”.

Oh Shut up Aly. We all know that there are millions of people suffering from cancer worldwide, and their chemo is making them feel crap. I’m SO FREAKING LUCKY that the regime I’m on is mild. Hell, my first trimesters had me feeling worse : carrying both my children in my uterus had me with my head in the toilet bowl 6-7 times daily in my first trimesters. So I know how lucky I am. I don’t want to come across as rubbing it in the face of all those brave souls there fighting for their lives.

Which is why, when things aren’t rosy, I’m sure as hell going to share it. So, my title, “party in the front, cancer in the back” means this :

Sure, the buzz cut looks great from the front. Now look, I took over 10 photos from different angles to get that look, with different smiles, half smiles, eyebrow raised or not, to get That. Particular. Shot. So here it is again. But, I’m also going to post the “cancer in the back” to say, on that very same day, this is what the back of my head looked like. Ready?

Remember this photo? “Party in the Front!”

 

…. And….. Cancer in the back. Boom.

So there you have it. That’s the reality of my hair. This is real, untouched.

Minutes after I was revelling in how good the buzz cut looked in the photo (top photo), I saw this other photo of my patchy bald head, I broke down, and sobbed, while Monkey and Bimble held me.

Hey – it’s only hair right? I can go through anything with those two girls and The Rock by my side.