You look good

Almost everyone loves a compliment. I'm not talking about those insincere platitudes tossed off flippantly, but an honest to goodness, genuine admiring remark.

During my recovery, I've appreciated compliments even more. After months of debilitating aches that left me hobbling and too much time as the hairless wonder, I finally felt good. While I still wasn't entirely satisfied with my appearance, I believed in most ways I did look healthy, attractive and "normal."

In the past couple of months, I've received more than my share of compliments. A few people, who I don't see regularly, actually had an awestruck tone in their voices when they said, "You look good."

One person even said my skin tone was so good, I couldn't possible have cancer anymore.

But I guess looking good, having good colour and a jaunty walk don't prevent tumours from rooting and growing. Thick hair, long eyelashes and sparkling eyes don't prevent cancer from re-gaining its hold.

I ran into someone the weekend before the doctor's appointment where I learned of cancer's return. She complimented me on my hair and how good I looked. When she found out the disease had returned, she was absolutely dumbfounded. "But you looked so good," she replied.

It's impossible to tell who has cancer by looking at a person. Heck, diagnosis would certainly be easier if it were. And ovarian cancer isn't one of those diseases where a person starts to lose weight and waste away. In fact, I'm rapidly growing in size. I guess there's more of me to fight, fight, fight.

I'm reading a book on cancer etiquette and it talks about the comment, you look good. This is a common line that many of those in cancer treatment hear (more than those who have other medical problems). Often those undergoing chemotherapy look pale, pained, are bald and possibly swollen from steroids - and own a mirror - so they know they don't look good.

When someone says, "You look great" the initial reaction is, compared to what? Friends won't usually say, "You look awful," even if it is true.

Bottom line, don't lie. Try things like:

"I like the lipstick you're wearing today."
"I'm glad you're doing so well in spite of the chemo."
" You look better than you did last week."
"You look stronger, how are you dealing with treatment?"
"I like your shirt, it brings colour to your face."

Rosanne Kalik, the author of Cancer Etiquette, and two-time cancer survivor wrote, "What I really want them to say is, 'I know you feel like hell. Please feel free to talk about it with me.'" Being available to hear the good and the bad, is better than any compliment - but especially ones that aren't sincere.

Yes, I still look pretty good, but hopefully I'll start treatment soon and that will change. While, I'm pretty cute as a bald chick, don't compliment me unless you really mean it. It's okay, I can take it.

Tina