I got lit up on Wednesday and made it through round four. ‘Tis the season to let the dog loose and spin some chemo bloopers. Warning: do not attempt any of these acts at home, or anywhere else for that matter.

I should have learned by now, but I’ll need two more rounds to prove: don’t take these drugs seriously.

Like a recovered alcoholic with all those funny stories of the drinking days, I live to tell. Or maybe some intoxication is required. So pretend you’ve had your cocktails, too, and hear me out.

Forget the chemo beanie, and laugh like you haven’t had these moments yourself.

As Alex likes to point out, I’ve had my fair share of bloopers way before chemo started. I can’t blame it all on chemo.

Or all on me, for that matter. Like today when Holly escaped. The bunch of us could have had chemo brain as we scrambled to bribe the dog home again.

Alexandra ran out with a bone, but I didn’t have the wherewithal to tell her to bring Holly’s leash and collar. Skylar didn’t have her boots, Alex didn’t have his phone. They told me to stay home (after my top ten bloopers, you’ll see why).

But the dog runs away from Alex, which she did during the chase. So that left Skylar running home (strike that, Skylar was most definitely walking) and calling out to me to come with her. She didn’t have the dog and couldn’t exactly remember the plan or, as we later found out, that she was to bring Alex’s phone.

I’m in slow motion as my chemo brain prods me to react to what’s happening. My daughter’s going to drive, and as she reminds me, she only has her permit, so I need to come with her.

Emergency noted. Chemo brain–WAKE UP! I remembered something about ice. Maybe it was on the roads. Chemo driver trumps permit driver. “No, I’ll drive.” I forgot all about that leash and collar, though I might have if only–but, the keys? Wrong ones. Where are they? Oh, Alex keeps his in his car.

Skylar’s in the car waiting. We drive down the street looking for the dog even though we know she’s didn’t run in this direction.

We can’t find Alex, Alexandra, or Holly for that matter, so we turn down a private road and turn around in a man’s driveway. He comes out with his dogs. Alex has to tell him we’re looking for our dog, as I hit the snow embankment three times for good measure and drive the getaway car in a beanie.

Clear of the man and his yapping dogs, Skylar gets out of the car to join Alex.

Somehow I have to collect myself and drive home again to get Alex’s phone and get myself equipped to join the search party. It’s not like I have a hat or gloves.

I take one last drive down a road to view the dirt road, where most likely, they’ll be. And sure enough, there’s Alexandra. She’s walking Holly down the dirt road with the leash and collar. How smart of her to think to bring it!

I scream out to get her attention–it’s not like the dog could run away again–and she yells back. “I got Holly.”

I drive back to report the news to the others.

When we get home, Alexandra tells us she didn’t have the leash and collar. Instead, Alexandra couldn’t get Holly to come to her, so she walked the bone just ahead of Holly and lured the dog home.

Now, if that isn’t a story to loosen things up!

Back to my TOP CHEMO BLOOPER ROUND-UP STORIES:

1. Last month, preparing for my next chemo collage board, I bought an extra box of printer cartridges. So when I ran out of ink while printing my next round of photos, I wouldn’t have to run to the store. Only I purchased 271, not 281. I threw my short coat over my long comfy, bathrobe-like dress and sweatpants, grabbed my purse, and ran to Staples in my slippers and my beanie. I’m not sure what gave me away, but the salesman ran over to me, pleading to help me.
2. Alex driving and almost… “Watch out! You’re gonna hit the dividend.” (I meant to say divider). And he was nowhere near it.
3. Meanwhile, I forgot my supplies to apply my port cream: gloves, so the cream doesn’t numb my fingers, and saran wrap to cover the port afterward. Alex tried to warn me when I dropped the cream on my pants, and I scooped it up with my bare finger. “Don’t!” But it was too late. (Don’t worry! It didn’t numb my finger anyway, so much for that cream). To be safe, I used a tissue. Without saran wrap, I covered the port with an extra disposable face mask instead. Later, when I explained to the nurse what I had done, she smiled and gave me a hospital-issued mask. She told me I’d have to put it on top of my cloth one. What part of my story did she not get? I already had two masks.
4. During chemo, I couldn’t find my partitioned off area. I found someone who looked enough like Alex sitting in a chair, so that room looked good enough. Meanwhile, the nurse was yelling, “Mrs. Ortiz, it’s the wrong hallway.” She then tried to make me feel better, “They all look alike.” Yeah, so do husbands.
5.  Walking the dog with the family the day after chemo, Alex said to wait to give the woman a safe distance to pass before we crossed the street. I confused my daughter with the woman and wondered why my daughter was heading home without us. I dashed across the street to walk side by side with her.
6. Late to a doctor’s appointment, I told Alex we could take the stairs. Only I got winded and said, “We have to get off here. I don’t care if it isn’t our floor.” It wasn’t our floor, and a woman came running over to tell us so. She took one look at me and escorted us through the hospital to the doctor’s appointment. No one even took our temperature.
7. In the Costco line, I pulled out my phone. Not paying attention, I rammed my cart into the lady in front of me—chemo beanie to the rescue. The lady took one look at my beanie and apologized to me.
8. Waiting, what seemed like forever, for a parked car to move. Thankfully the car behind me beeped. Too bad I couldn’t stick my head out and show her my beanie.
9. My phone doesn’t recognize my face anymore. No wonder why.
10. Remember that ink I needed to buy? They were all out at Staples due to COVID. Who cares about a pandemic and people working from home anyway? So I ordered it online (for the next chemo board) and went to put it away. And guess what I found? I had another box, after all!

Moral of the story: Though we’ve all had our fair share of bloopers, all we needed was the beanie to get lit and make this season Merry & Bright!