Pinky Pie

Oy Freakin’ Vey & Me

Posted on: October 12, 2009

Scissors or vacuum?

Scissors or vacuum?

Mullet do

Mullet do

Mohawk

Mohawk

And sans hair

And sans hair

In the wonderful book, The Joys of Yiddish, “oy” is said to be a full vocabulary, not a word. Depending on the “utterer’s histrionic ability,” it can be a lament, a protest, a cry of dismay or a reflex of delight. It can be sighed, cried, howled, or moaned. And, of course, written.

They are many stages of oy-attitude, if you’ll allow me to coin a term. It begins with the simple oy and moves up or down the emotional ladder of “oy vey!” to “Oy vey iz mir!” I also discovered in the book today “oysegematert,” which means exhausted.

Oysegematert would have worked nicely for me yesterday had I known of it, but I’m quite proud of my own personal invention, “oy freakin’ vey.”

I have used it before, but I earned it yesterday. Sunday was my perfect storm of oy-attitude.

That it came on my birthday, on the day that the NOW on PBS ran in La Crosse (earlier in other places), my being three days from having chemo, on my last day of steroids following chemo just set me up.

By the way, having had my second round steroids following chemo, with all the emotional craziness that seems to come with them in me, I am officially giving up my plans to become a body builder and would say to anyone who takes them without a medical reason, are you nuts?

As far as the NOW program, it was terrific. Important points were made and I’m proud to have been on it as a patient of Franciscan Skemp. As important as it was and even with my humor, it still hit between my eyes.

Sunday was also a day after we had a cutting off my hair party. It was already falling out, so Diane my hairdresser of 35 years and good friend came over Saturday with another friend, Colette, for the honors. We took silly photos along the way – my hair as a mullet, a Mohawk and just bangs. The hair is actually down to about a half inch – and that is coming out, too.

Yes, the perky, upbeat, humorous breast cancer patient was nowhere to be found on Sunday. Pinky Pie was Punky Pie or even Funky Pie yesterday. But that’s OK.  It’s part of life and won’t last long.

It was my intention to write on my blog yesterday about the history of my birthday, which occurred on the day I was born. 🙂  I arrived a half-hour after my mom got to the hospital. I was always in a hurry and impatient even then. I have decided that while one should not rush one’s life away, I do feel it is absolutely appropriate to rush chemo away.  I’m halfway through these four yucky chemos and will have four sessions of other drugs starting in about a month that are not supposed to be as rough. But they can cause numbness or aches or nerve pain.

I’m sorry if it worried my family and friends when I did not respond to calls, email or Facebook on my birthday. It wasn’t personal. I didn’t even take calls from my kids. I just sent my love and words that I’ll be OK.

After my first round of chemo, I reached a point where I felt terrific. That day will come again whether it is today, tomorrow or the day after. Ups follow downs, whether in the stock market or inside me.

In the meantime, as a wise woman once said, “oy freakin’ vey.”

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3 Responses to "Oy Freakin’ Vey & Me"

You look great no matter what your hair style or non-hair style. Better birthdays are to come.

The pictures are great fun. Best wishes. What would life be without a sense of humor in the face of fragility.

I love “Oy freakin’ vey.” Think I’ll practise it up as substitute for “Oh, shit.” N

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