the human thumb
MJE continues to be plagued with various unwanted consequences of a few too many cocktails, and no I don’t mean waking up and finding the dog wearing her underpants or discovering the bird feeder on the kitchen counter filled with mixed nuts and surrounded by bloated house mice. Those are the result of an overindulgence in delectable ethyl alcohol-based cocktails. No, I refer here to the vexing aftereffects of cocktails based on a mixture of far less congenial drugs, the sort that are literally designed to kill you. In MJE’s experience, consumption of even way too much of the enjoyable variety won’t off you, at least not right away, although you may wish you were dead.
Chemo cocktails are designed to attack fast growing cells like hair follicles and fingernails. And cancer. So like a fish, MJE started to rot from the top and the first thing to go was the hair on my head. Eyebrows and lashes, kaput. And then suddenly, just at the point where I could really use it, the molting stopped. My moustache and hag hairs seemed to be totally resistant, ditto leg and armpit hair. Now, I’m not sure if chemotherapy also induces paranoia but I strongly suspect a male correlation to this phenomenon. Any woman drug researcher worth her sodium chloride would conjure up an emulsion that would work from the bottom up and generate leg, armpit, upper lip, bikini line and hag hair loss from the very first drop. She’d put off the buzz killers until the very last.
MJE looks like a 5’3” thumb.