Chemotherapy, or: Your Miracle Aging Drugs

 Consider the alternatives, pal, consider the alternatives. 

That's what I tell myself as I remember the day's events: I was on my way home from my dose of Eribulin, the latest miracle drug, "a laboratory-made form of halichondrin B, a substance derived from a sea sponge," says the nearest reliable site. Chemos come from surprising sources--another one comes from yew tree bark.

This one, like all that I have experienced, is no beauty treatment. Partly it's the shutdown of estrogen receptors--not that you don't have any estrogen anymore; pleasant sources of the hormone include broccoli, red wine and orgasms--but the conveyor belt is slowed or closed. This results, as far I can tell from a stare into the mirror, include dryer skin--the lines in the forehead become more pronounced and hello crow's feet! Dewlaps, lines here, lines there--a plastic surgeon's dream. But I'm not in the mood for plastic surgery.

Plus there's the hair loss. Without eyelashes, take it from me, you look like a lizard. Eyebrows also do something for your face--I like them--but I guess one could always go for that penciled-in thin 1920s-30s look but, well, no.

Anyway, there was I was, heading home, with the fuller brush chemo look on my head and my missing-a-few eyelashes look when I stopped before crossing the street: a child waited on a toddler balance bike with her dad, who was explaining she couldn't cross yet because a car was coming. Especially in Germany (most of Western Europe) you don't let a child see you cross if a car's there or the light's red. 

Then the child didn't want to cross. It was fun to watch the car park. Her dad said, "Lass die alte Dame rübergehen!" (Let the old lady cross!)

Ouch. 

Fast forward: a few hours later I was having dinner with my two of my children and my son's girlfriend at the local Chinese restaurant. 

 The waitress was watching us. "Are you the grandma!" 

"No, I'm the very old mom!" I said.

 I really must do something about my skin and my hair. But I don't want to invest in surgery or La Mer Creme de La Mer face creme at Sephora or Nordstrom's or similar items. 

Hmm. Cucumbers?