I used the weekend to mentally prepare myself for returning to work. My boss was the only person that knew I had cancer. I wanted to get used to wearing the wig before my hair actually fell out, so on Monday, I would sport my red wig.

I woke up extra early to get ready. It was a tough morning, trying to get the wig situated in exactly the right position, flattening the flyaway strands and making sure it wouldn’t fall off while at work. I would have to change my wardrobe since the red wig didn’t match any of my clothes. I wore a completely black outfit and walked toward the subway with my head down, feeling like all eyes were on me. They must know, I kept telling myself. Is it that obvious? Maybe my black hair is showing through? Does it look stupid? I hope it doesn’t blow off.

Luckily it was a quick subway ride to work. I took the elevator up to my office, avoiding eye contact every time someone got on. Since I had just started working there I didn’t want to have to explain my new look to anyone. At the water cooler, Trent, the cute guy from the office, introduced himself to me. “We’ve met. I'm Asha.” “Wow. I didn’t even recognize you. You got your hair cut and colored.” “I guess sort of,” I mumbled. Later in my office, the CEO, Matthew came to talk to my boss. Known for being brash, he saw me and exclaimed, “What happened to you? This is an inauspicious way to start the morning.” Already more self-conscious than I’d ever felt in my life, I responded, “Yeah, having cancer isn’t the best way to start a morning.” His jaw dropped. My boss, who was protective of me, ran out of her office, grabbed him by the arm and led him away. Later he came and apologized profusely saying he had no idea.

It certainly was not the best day for me. The doctors instructed me to drink water and pee often to flush my system from the adriomycin/cytoxin chemotherapy drugs that they had injected into me. They warned me that my pee would be red from the drugs for several days. But they hadn’t warned me that I might have a severe case of diarrhea. I’m not sure that first day back at work could have gotten any worse. Around lunchtime, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and ran to the women’s room. There were three stalls and I opted for the large handicapped one because I knew I’d be in there for a while. I just hoped that no one else would walk in.

I sat on the toilet for several minutes until I was done. The pee was red from the medication and I worried I would clog the toilet with number two. When I flushed, the water level started rising. Please stop, please stop, I whispered to the toilet. It didn’t. It came up slowly over the rim and flooded the entire bathroom floor, so much so that it flowed onto the rug in the hallway. They closed the bathroom for the day.