Big Faker

It's funny how the old saying of life imitating art, more often than not, proves to be true.

Last night I was watching a rerun episode of Seinfeld: The Scofflaw. It was the one about George and Jerry's friend who admits to George that he faked having cancer, all the whilst taking advantage of Jerry's kindness, including buying a toupee with a gift card given by Jerry.

Turns out that recently there was a woman in Texas who did pretty much the same thing. She told everybody she had breast cancer, shaved her head to imitate chemotherapy effects, raised money for her "care", and then spent said money on a pair of fake boobs. (Read the full story as reported by MSNBC late last week).

Of course after watching the Jerry episode, and then hearing about the Texas story, I knew there had to be a sassy blog entry in there somewhere, so here goes.

First of all, I can't imagine the efforts that this women went to fake having breast cancer. Would it really be that much fun and worth it just to have a couple of hard-feeling, saline filled sacks inserted into your body ? I mean really, let's think about this. She had to keep her head shaved, wear makeup to imitate pasty yellow chemo-skin, always make sure she looked her worst, bring on the teary waterworks on cue, spend an inordinate amount of time lying on the couch watching a lot of crap daytime TV, have lots of dreary deep and meaningful conversations about her feelings, eat copious amounts of bland and tasteless food and then throw it all up to fake chemo nausea, write a bestselling book on "Why I Wore Spanx to Chemotherapy" or something similar, spend hours in doctor's offices reading about the scintillating adventures of Speidi in People magazine, and worst of all drape herself in garish pink survivor gear and bop out to "We Are Family"or "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" at any opportunity to rally the support of her community. Phew !

Nope ! It doesn't sound like something I would want to do. In fact I want to do just the opposite. Folks, I am going to fake NOT having breast cancer. Just think about what I'll have to do to pull it off. Spend my evenings draped in designer gear partying my ass off and all after 9pm, constantly laughing and smiling and lighting up rooms with my brilliant and interesting presence, field compliments on how beautiful I look and what am I using on my skin to look so youthful and healthy, never wear pink, excel at my high-paying professional career, go to the doctor once a year (and only to refill my Pill prescription), have so little time because of my busy and vibrant life that I am barely able to find time to blog about NOT having cancer, harvest my crops on Farmville, or update my status on Facebook, and best of all, enjoy and revere my REAL size 32A boobs !