I’ve always been one of those folks with exceptionally good health, and good luck in health in general (sounds ironic given the events of the last two years, but big picture-wise, it still holds true).
When my brother was routinely down for the count with whatever germs were making their way across the playground’s greater elementary population, I was the one bringing home Perfect Attendance ribbons.
I hardly even get so much as a splinter.
No broken bones, no braces, just a hideous pair of salmon pink and Smurfette designed bifocals that I was happily able to chuck off the back deck the last day of 5th grade.
So, all the little surprises that can come along with chemo really caught me off-guard, even with the extensive research I’d done prior to the first infusion.
And the only reason I even noticed it is because once I lost hair there, a suddenly runny nose became an everyday affair, and #gross, it comes on with little warning.
There I’d be on screen in the middle of a Microsoft Teams meeting with my team, or boss, or a prospective new sales partner and bam! A clear river of #awkward snot flowing from nostril to top of my lip before I even felt it happening.
Enter these little pocket-sized tissues. It’s like the sixth love language of chemo-treated cancer survivors. No joke. I got together with several of my best breast friends for a Galentine’s Day Brunch, and our sweet Deborah gifted everyone with swag bags – wouldn’t you know, a package of these essential tissues was in there, and it was one of My Favorite Things (thank you, Oprah).
Not that anyone on the other side of the screen could see it or even tell (oh the freedom of the camera OFF switch), but I was always embarrassed and kind of annoyed too. Stupid little indignance to have to put up with that was really getting in the way of doing normal everyday things. Be that as it may, it’s a side effect that seems to stick around, so there’s no point in bellyaching about it.
So I keep a packet of these tissues everywhere. Stuffed into every purse I own, my work and personal laptop bags, office desk drawer, the center console of Black Betty, etc., you get the idea.
Want to give a friend or loved one going through treatment something practical? Load ‘em up with these little facial pocket tissue pack lifesavers. I just nose they gonna love it.