Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1151081
37 Q3 2019 / CINEMONTAGE while undergoing chemo, but I was determined not to let this take over my life. The job was to go for eight-to-ten months and I was not about to quit. In the next month, I had two outpatient surgeries — one to remove the growth and another to insert the IV port, three weeks apart. Once a week for the next 25 weeks, I had to take a blood test, but I always did it at 7:30 a.m. and was at work on time by 9:00. I had a fear of needles so I spoke with a co- worker who had many tattoos. He gave me pep talks and "therapy" to overcome my fear. One hears about awful reactions to the treatment, but I really had few side effects; I had no nausea to speak of and was no more tired than anyone else working 12-hour days. I sometimes wonder if I really did have those symptoms but would not allow them to overtake me because I was so involved in my work. So many people tend to become all-consumed by an illness if they have nothing else to distract them. Every three weeks, I would come to work at 6:00 or 7:00 a.m. on Thursday and work until 2:00 p.m. before leaving for the infusions. I was also taking mega-doses of steroids for three days. The first day it would counterbalance the chemo exhaustion. I would be home around 5:00 p.m., have dinner (I was rarely nauseated), relax and go to sleep around 8:00. I went to work early on Friday for 12 hours. The steroids kept up my energy. Saturday, I would crash from the steroids (and a 55-hour workweek), relaxing or sleeping all day. On Sunday, I would start to feel better, so by Monday, I had three weeks before the next round. I felt normal then, as if nothing was wrong and it had been a big misunderstanding. I immersed myself in my work and had positive thoughts. By the seventh week, I lost my hair. I have always been defined by my big hair, so I decided to get a similar wig to keep my look. Surprisingly, that was a bit difficult, unless I wanted a costly custom wig, so I opted for a temporary one from a Halloween costume store: a huge afro from the '70s. It wasn't way out of the ballpark, but it did get co- workers' attention. Several asked if I had gotten a new haircut, to which I replied yes, and the matter was closed. The following weekend, I got one closer to my original hair but a lighter shade. Again, this brought comments that they all liked the new color. One co-worker helped me pick out a wig online. Having very curly hair, I had a bit of fun and decided to get a straight-haired wig. I had still only confided in my closest colleagues so, being a crew of about 40, very few actually knew what I was going through. It was not unusual for women to change their hairstyle and color to crazier looks than I had. By this time, people from other departments noticed a change and started suspecting something. Everyone was so kind and didn't ask outright what was going on, but eventually I spoke about it and they asked lots of questions. I truly felt like a superhero because everyone told me I was. How could I possibly go through what I was going through and work so many hours — or even work at all? Keeping busy was my salvation. I was so involved at work that I didn't have time to think about my illness or my treatment. I had plenty of support. My closest friend from Denmark called often to see how I was doing, as did my family and friends from the East Coast who offered to help out in any way. One of my colleagues gave me a strong shoulder to lean on. He worked across the hall, and gave me daily pep talks and showed concern, like a big brother. However, during dailies in the dark screening room, I would usually break down and cry silently. I always sat in the back and didn't say much. I think some co-workers knew but gave me that time to be The Amazing Spider-Man 2. Columbia Pictures