Cancer Vixen

It actually started out with 9/11 -- the terrorists coming to New York, then I got cancer. Either can hit any of us at any moment and I refuse to be terrified by either.
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

An Interview with Cynthia Kling

Marisa Acocella Marchetto, a freewheeling, shoe-worshipping, downtown New York City cartoonist -- who was too busy to get mammograms or re-up for her health insurance -- had a charmed life cartooning for The New Yorker, the New York Times, and Glamour magazine, with a lipstick collection that would have made Jerry Hall envious . . . And to top that off, at 43, she got engaged to Silvano Marchetto, the sexy owner of Da Silvano restaurant. It would have been perfect, except one other thing happened -- she got cancer. Her hilarious, sometimes in-your-face graphic novel, Cancer Vixen, tells how she kicked this killer with the help of some hard-won wisdom and a pack of great friends.

Here, Marisa sits down with Cynthia Kling to discuss the details.

CK: How did this bad shit happen?

MM: Well it actually started out with 9/11 -- the terrorists coming to New York, then I got cancer. I feel like they were two versions of the same thing -- sleeper cells in the body that can wake up and wreak havoc on your body -- terrorists can do same with the planet. Either can hit any of us at any moment and I refuse to be terrified by either.

CK: A lot of times people feel like they might have cancer -- you always wonder if you would know. Did you?

MM: I felt this little lump. I knew it wasn't a pimple or mosquito bite, but I just tried to ignore it. I got a cold, went to the doctor, and he actually hit the bump with his stethoscope. "Were you going to tell me about this?" he asked. Then he does a breast exam, and gave me this giant fake smile. I knew I was in deep shit but I sort of went into denial.

CK: When did that change?

MM: I called a friend and I was just talking about nothing, some other couple or something. He accused me of being superficial, gossiping -- my friend, Mr. Very Important New York Times writer. So I told him that I had a lump. It was horrible to actually say it, but I loved shutting him up.

CK: Were you scared to tell your fiancee, the fabulous Silvano?

MM: Yes, he was surrounded by all these young models and actresses, I was 43 and I didn't even have health insurance. He was great about it -- but he's not too happy with me today because I lost the keys to the apartment.

CK: What did it mean that you didn't have health insurance?

MM: It was an added stress on the most stressful period of my life. I had to tell Silvano, who was upset I didn't tell him BEFORE. He'd asked me 6 months ago, if I needed it. I had insurance then, but it ran out a few months before the diagnosis.

CK: You have lots of very opinionated BFFs (best friends for life) -- like the fashion executrix bff, ceo bff, married mother of two in Connecticut bff -- who really showed up for you during this. Did they give you any dumb suggestions?

MM: Support groups. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down with a group of strangers and talk about cancer.

CK: Did they give you any really helpful suggestions?

MM: Going to Kabbalah. I thought -- what do I have to lose, really, checking into something that could actually make me a better, happier person?

CK: What's Kabbalah do?

MM: It's all about a shift in perspective. When I saw the first sonograph, I thought it [the cancer] was a black hole that was just going to suck me away, and then Dr. Mills, my breast surgeon, said it looked like a pearl. That made me realize, in that very split second, that I could look at it either positively or negatively. In that instant I made a promise to myself that I'd try to find out what's positive in this thing. Some sort of wisdom was going to come out of this, I just didn't know what . . .

CK: Did it?

MM: I think I finally understand how finite life is. And I try not to second-guess myself anymore -- if I counted up all the times that I'd second-guessed myself -- it's been years of my life. How in every bad situation there is something good. You know, if life gives you lemons, make limoncello.

CK: If someone wanted to stick a toe into Kaballah, how do they get there?

MM: Check out their website, and go to a class.

CK: How did you start doing the book?

MM: Lauren Brody of Glamour asked me to write about it. When the cartoons ran in Glamour, The New York Times wrote about it, and we sold the idea to Knopf. I had wanted to do it as a book, so I'd kept everything -- receipts, notes, Sketches, e-mails. My friends are now afraid to say anything to me, because they think I'll use it. (That's kind of a joke, but not really.)

CK: While you were sick, did you play the cancer card?

MM: Oh yeah, to get out of stuff that I didn't want to go to. Friends would say, "It's ok under these circumstances, but if you continue to use it after you're better, we'll know you're full of shit."

CK: Anything about having cancer that surprised you?

MM: I was coming from this whole da Silvano restaurant world, twenty-year-old blonds ricocheting off my husband and that made me feel really insecure. Then I realized that there was this great sisterhood of survivors out there who are really caring. It's ironic, but the worst situations bring out the best in people.

CK: Did you have any secret weapons to help you through it?

MM: Lipgloss and shoes. It was more of a secret attitude. I just really believe that if I look better then I will feel better.

CK: Let's see your shoes, were these cancer shoes?

MM: NO, they're my interview shoes. (Out from under the table comes a spectacular four-inch heel with glittery fish scales -- fabulous.)

CK: Last question: Who's doing the outfit for your book party?

MM: Zac Posen, he's so cute. But he hasn't returned my calls so I had to call his mother.


Marisa is donating a percentage of the book's proceeds to The Breast Cancer Research Foundation and to underprivileged women at the Comprehensive Cancer Center affiliated with St. Vincent's Hospital in Manhattan. Hopefully, with their help, we will all one day be cancer-free.

If you haven't already visited our new Becoming Fearless section, click here for more blog posts, news stories, and special features on relationships, work, parenting, health, sex . . . life.

Popular in the Community

Close

HuffPost Shopping’s Best Finds

MORE IN LIFE