You Sound Like a Real Attractive Guy

Sadly, many people reading this blog are too young to either know of, or remember, Gilda Radner - one of the greatest comediennes of the 20th Century. She died tragically in 1989 from ovarian cancer at the young age of 42, and you have to wonder what the outcome would have been If the onset of that disease had held off for another 20 or 30 years. Despite that, she left us with some hilarious characters and comedic bits from “Saturday Night Live,” including “Rosanne Rosannadanna.” This was one of my favorite Rosanne Rosannadanna bits from SNL’s “Weekend Update”:


“A Mr. Richard Feder from Fort Lee, New Jersey, writes in and says, "Dear Rosanne Rosannadanna, Last Thursday, I quit smoking. Now, I'm depressed, I get wet, my face broke out, I'm nauseous, I'm constipated, my feet swell, my gums are bleeding, my sinuses are clogged, I got heartburn, I'm cranky, and I have gas. What should I do?" Mr. Feder you sound like a real attractive guy. You BELONG in New Jersey!”


As it turns out, some of my favorite people are from New Jersey (you know who you are, Betty & Frank Carillo and Kevin Mooney). But I gotta tell ya… I feel a bit like a Mr. Richard Feder from New Jersey right about now and never realized how much quitting smoking sounds like getting chemotherapy. With a few extra, added benefits thrown in for good measure.


For starters, I admit being vain about my hair, and I am distressed about losing it, but maybe not for all of the reasons you might suspect. I am working wherever possible, and prefer to do that in the company of other people, but it’s embarrassing to sit next to someone while your hair appears to be falling out of your head at the same rate as our modern-day stock market. I’m self-conscious about it, which causes me to draw attention to it in an awkward way.


I noticed today that some of my fingernails are starting to turn an odd shade of purple. Without the benefit of nail polish, that is hard to hide. I have a big bump sticking out of my neck like the bolt in Frankenstein’s head that is pretty apparent whenever I wear a t-shirt or polo shirt. Oh, and I hiccup regularly for the two to three days after chemo. Apparently, this is not that uncommon, and some people even require medication to put a stop to it. Who knew?


Lastly, for now, I roam the halls at night. I went to bed at 7:45 p.m. tonight because I was exhausted after a long workday, and I am back up at 1:15 a.m. writing a blog entry and eating a bowl of Cinnamon Cheerios (I ate half of a baked potato and two forkfuls of corn before going to bed tonight). Please pray for my wife – at least she has been through this before as well and understands the side effects. 😊


Until next time,


Steve