Ah, that'll be the chemo brain

Of all the side effects, physical, visual, real or imagined, I'll take the one that turns me into a cute, ditzy idiot, since that always seems to be hugely advantageous for cute ditzy girls in life in general. Long before this most recent of sufferings, I suffered a very different kind. Four years of singledom. I am sure it was down to my floor-sweeping GCSE results, owning of own flat, and non-blondeness. I realise this is grossly unfair to many women, but I get my disillusional comforts where I can.

Luckily DadJokes overcame the extreme fear of being with a wildly intelligent and successful woman, but I always secretly envied those girly girls whose hair gleams and who are perfectly comfortable with their geographical knowledge of Britain: 'Ireland is an island, so that's how you know.' Cute right? It always seemed to work in my circle of friends anyway, I've even seen this character trait as a pre-requisite on Take Me Out.


So, I'm about ready to take advantage. Hair colour is not an issue for me right now, I can live under the guise of being a blonde (I should point out I'm not a pigmentist, some of my very best friends are blonde. And very clever, but not for the purposes of this post).

Next I welcome chemo brain, I thought it was a made up thing (not so, it has a proper name and everything! 'Mild Cognitive Impairment') I mused at how nice it would be to let a To Do list into my life. Little did I know this would be as necessary as breathing, and not nearly as easy. In essence, my brain has turned to jelly. At times it's funny, at times convenient (I'm pretty sure I can't get into trouble for missing deadlines at the moment). For other people I'm sure it's frustrating, Katie is not only picking up my slack at work, she has to keep a to do list for my to do list as well as her own. She really does this.

But mostly, quite funny. My proudest moment was telling my best friends boyfriend not to forget his Viagra for our plans that night. Cute! I've made it! I meant caffeine pills or something to keep him awake, but you can see where the fog set in, aww. As I write this I'm having to Wikipedia words because I can't think of the right one. If that isn't cute and ditzy I don't know what is.

So once again, a happy bonus. Just like pregnant ladies can happily eat for two for a few months, I can embrace my dwindling brain cells. I can't be told off by Sacha in the chemo suite for rendering a brand new Sharps Box redundant by closing it completely, out of curiosity. I can't be held accountable for potentially ruining someone's holiday by warning them I went there and it was DISGUSTING, and I can't possibly be of sound mind enough to realise the potential in this situation for some tourettes-esque mischief. Did I just say that? That'll be the chemo brain...




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