A friend of mine has cancer. Cancer fucking sucks. Yeah, I know that’s not news to anyone. But it’s worth restating. Cancer. Fucking. Sucks. My friend is going to be OK, which is why I want to hug the universe in it’s stupid face instead of wanting to punch it. (For the moment.) But it reminds me that I have it really, really good. The worse thing that happened to me today was that I got bad cream in my coffee at the diner and I wasted 90 minutes watching a really crappy movie on Netflix streaming. If those are the worst things to happen today, I’ve got NOTHING to complain about.

There’s lots of stuff that the movies and TV doesn’t tell you about cancer and treatment because it’s not dramatically glamorous. Like your eyelashes fall out, your fingers and toes swell up until your nails fall off, that chemo damages your senses until all food tastes like dirt, or that your skin turns blue and green and you have to have ports and tubes surgically implanted and you can’t hug your kid until they get taken out. Like I said. Cancer. Fucking. Sucks.

People respond to stress and bad news in different ways, and of course friends want to help. And my friends is lucky to have lots of friends and family who love her into a million pieces and want to do everything they can. Unfortunately, when it comes to heavy stuff like cancer there’s not a lot you can do for someone else. Seriously, if I could be all like, “Hey, I’ll take this round of chemo for you. Go relax for a while. I got this,” I totally would do it. But it’s not like picking up the check at the diner. You gotta leave the tough stuff to the medical professionals and the even more tough stuff to the patient. But pretty much most of us just have to sit around and wait. And worry. And wait. And worry. And wait. And worry. And wait more even when time seems to have slowed down to 1/8th normal speed. And repeat.

So what can you do on the sidelines? While you’re doing all that waiting and fingers-crossing and positive-thoughts-sending? There’s always something to do. Better to keep busy than to sit around do all that idle worrying.

So, I knit a few chemo caps.

And baked cookies to eat in the waiting room at the hospital.

I knit this pair of Official Slipper-Socks For Kicking Cancer In The Face.

And sewed up a few headscarves for when the weather was too warm for a thick hat.

But when that’s done, then you go back to the worrying. And the waiting. Because all the worrying and waiting you’re doing? Your friend is waiting and worrying a whole hell of a lot more, times like a bajillion. So that’s important to remember.

That’s pretty much all I can do. It doesn’t make me feel any more in control of a universe that I’m pissed at for messing around with my friend. But if it makes an almost intolerably horrid situation slightly more tolerable to deal with for her, then I’m glad to do it.

What I did learn is that while Ravelry will hook up you with a ton of good, free chemo cap patterns to knit or crochet, there aren’t a lot of DIY options for sewn head scarves out there. Well, I mean there aren’t a lot of GOOD options out there. Googling “chemo scarf pattern” or any variation will bring up a lot of duds on websites last updated in 1997. Here are few of the ones that I used as baseline guides, with good results, though a plain hemmed 36” square seemed to work the best.

This turban was quick and simple, and the instructions are fairly clear.

The layout on this site makes the pattern a little hard to understand, but if you read through it a few times, you’ll glean how to make this doo-rag style cap.

This isn’t a pattern, per say, but if you’re an intermediate or above seamster, you can figure it out from the pictures.

So there you go; maybe those links will come in handy one day. All of them are easy enough and I ended up making 5 or 6 scarves in a few different styles in one afternoon. I  really, really hope not, but reality is stupid sometimes. Yeah, this went to a more depressing place than I intended, so let me just end by saying friend is awesome and totally kicked Cancer in it’s stupid, ugly face and I’m so happy about it that I’m considering hiring a skywriter.