Wednesday, September 26, 2012

In cognito

When I look in the mirror I know I look different.  For me it is the lack of eyelashes and my formerly bushy eyebrows looking pale and thin.  The eyes are the window to the soul and I guess that the framing makes a difference.  I notice the differences in my body less because I don't tend to look at my body when looking in the mirror.  But I know I am much skinnier that the Chuck who used to not worry so much about eating a bit more than required to sustain his energy needs.  But if you haven't seen me in a while, I'm guessing that the missing 40 pounds is noticeable.  And then there is my signature haircut that I've sported since the 80's.  The "polished" look is significantly different despite the fact that I've been described as a bald guy since my 20s.  With the glasses on, most say I look about 10 years younger.

 Last night we went to see a sold out speaking engagement featuring John Waters at the Grand Rapids Civic Theater.  Mary had acquired a pair of free tickets from a friend and we had made all the arrangements to participate in a rare evening event.  For me this means strapping on the food pump early so I can later go out unencumbered by the annoying appliance.

So maybe I should have not been surprised as acquaintances passed by me at a crowded public event, one after another without a flash of recognition.  Some, I nodded to and those who nodded back appeared to be reciprocating with politeness rather than connection.  Not a single person approached me or spoke to me (without introduction).  It's not that I am a super popular, hip, well-known guy but I do know a fair amount of people in this community and it was strange to feel like I was in disguise as people I knew fairly well slipped by right in front of me.

I've kept my cancer story off Facebook for the most part.   There is a link to my blog there if you search for it but so far I have preferred to make my social network presence low-profile and free from my health issues.  There are many people in the "acquaintance world" who would have no idea.

There is another reasonable possibility for invisibility and that is the social avoidance of discomfort.  Perhaps I was noticed and a conscious effort was made to pretend I was unrecognized while in the vicinity. What do you say to an acquaintance you haven't seen in 6 months who clearly looks a lot different; hairlessness and weight hinting at the possibility of cancer?  Who wants to have that conversation at a fun event?  I get that.  I have pretended to not notice people when I have wanted to avoid an inevitable and unwanted subject.  In fact, I find myself feeling empathetic with those people and I would avoid eye contact with some who I do not want to put in the uncomfortable situation of asking me about how I am doing.

The show was very engaging and funny.  Waters is so incredibly charming and comfortable in his own, weird skin.  His material is definitely not for everybody.  Despite being unabashedly vulgar, there is sweetness in his acceptance of everyone and humor in his flipping of popular convention upside down.

We were home by 9:00pm and even squeezed in a little ArtPrize and dropped off my car for some work at the Auto Doctor.  On a physical level it was a success.  I was tired but not overly so.  I strapped the food pump back on when we got back home and we plugged back into our more typical evening routine.  I did fall asleep before the Daily Show, however.

I think my hair is threatening to grow back.  The downy softness of the back of my head is beginning to feel a bit prickly.  Many friends are advising me to keep the look.  It is definitely easier to maintain than crappy hair.  Hope the eyelashes come back soon.

2 comments:

Mannie Gentile said...

Chuck,
I remember reading a John Waters quote, many years ago, on capital punishment; his choice would be the electric chair

"with a naked Ricky Schroeder strapped to my lap."

Hope you get a good eye-lashing soon.

Mannie

Mightmac said...

Chuck:

But you are such a sweetheart! I cannot imagine passing you by if I recognized you. That said, I wish I could give you 30 pounds I would just as soon NOT have. Hugs,

Helen