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© Genae M. Girard, 2009-2010
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Don’t Underestimate the Importance of Denial
~Ode to Denial~
Webster defines denial as:
“a psychological defense mechanism in which confrontation with a personal problem or with reality is
avoided by denying the existence of the problem or reality.” Every morning it’s the same thing. I glance into
the mirror and the sleepiness falls away from my brain and I am perplexed by the fuzzy head staring back at
me. “Oh yes,” I say to myself, “I forgot that I have cancer.” I begin to gather up products that mask my
appearance of going through chemo. My wig, my concealer, my eyebrow pencil…. I begin my routine of
painting, wig straightening and globbing on various make up products in an effort to look like Cindy
Crawford. I know I have gone too far when I see Tammy Faye Baker staring back at me in the mirror.
When I have an appearance of normalcy I set out into the world without anyone being the wiser. I have
studied statistics. I have an extensive breast cancer library. I have interviewed doctors as well as many
survivors. I feel like I have been in control and satisfied with my decisions thus far. I have recently decided
that on a day-to-day basis, I really appreciate denial.
You usually hear about denial in a negative connotation. I would like to portray it in a different light. Denial
gives me a brain break. I can forget that every Friday I get juiced with Taxol. I can forget the fact that I
have seven more treatments to go. I can forget that I filled in my eyebrows yesterday crooked so that I
looked angry all day. I can forget for the last five months my shaved head has resembled David Carradine in
the TV series Kung Fu.
So I would like to personally thank you, denial, for allowing me to forget for at least awhile that I am a
breast cancer survivor. Thank you for the countless times you have helped me get through the day feeling
great. Denial isn’t just for psychology patients and desperate housewives anymore.
got denial?
Ode to a Ponytail
When I was a child I had one of those Barbie heads with the hair that you could style. I
remember trimming the hair with blunt safety scissors, knowing that it would greatly
improve the look of Barbie staring back at me. When the cut was finished and I had
thoroughly applied sky blue eye shadow to the plastic diva, I noticed the hair-cut was not
very desirable. In fact, it resembled the time my mother had to cut bubble gum out of my
hair when I accidentally fell asleep chewing. The cut was short, wispy uneven and distorted.
I had just donned my first ponytail since chemo. It isn't long and flowing, but resembles
that of a Sumo wrestler before he is about to step his jumbo sized body into the ring. I
tugged and tugged to try to get all of the short wisps into a plastic holder. Success! I wore
the Sumo ponytail all day.
When I was a child I had one of those Barbie heads with the hair that you could style. I
remember trimming the hair with blunt safety scissors, knowing that it would greatly
improve the look of Barbie staring back at me. When the cut was finished and I had
thoroughly applied sky blue eye shadow to the plastic diva, I noticed the hair-cut was not
very desirable. In fact, it resembled the time my mother had to cut bubble gum out of my
hair when I accidentally fell asleep chewing. The cut was short, wispy uneven and distorted.
I had just donned my first ponytail since chemo. It isn't long and flowing, but resembles
that of a Sumo wrestler before he is about to step his jumbo sized body into the ring. I
tugged and tugged to try to get all of the short wisps into a plastic holder. Success! I wore
the Sumo ponytail all day.
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