Made it Through the Weekend

Thanks to the wonders of Dexamethasone, currently my steroid of choice, I made it through the things I knew I had to do this weekend, plus a few little surprises, with a minimum of orc intervention. I knew I had a reception I wanted/needed to attend on Saturday and a Tea today. and I knew about both of them several weeks ago. That's when I moved up my last chemo by one day, as though that was going to help. Then my doctor told me about extending the Dex. I'm sure there will be some sort of adverse reaction somewhere because all of life is a balance, but I made it through. I was exhausted when I got home this afternoon and slept through the end of the Giants LOSS--they still don't get it that they are the ones who are supposed to bring up my morale.
Anyway, the things I had to to do turned out to be more than I expected when Lee's niece, Deborah, called the afternoon of chemo to let us know that her mother had died that morning. The services were set for Saturday at noon. Good thing I'd already found out how to survive the weekend. Then the funeral was moved to 1 PM--the reception was at 2 ten or so miles away. No problem, I could be late, they would just be happy to see me, I hoped. I got up early yesterday morning with a list of tasks to accomplish. Find something appropriate to wear to both events that didn't make me look like a stuffed sausage--I still don't think it is fair that chemo wasn't the perfect diet plan for me. Not that I mind not dealing with the nausea, but I would have liked to look more like someone out of Biafra than the Arctic Circle. I found a black (with a little white trim) skirt that would do, a black top, a jacket that was mostly black but couldn't close in front, then decided that the Eastern Star reception would just have to be happy with me in funeral togs, because (1) there's no way I can fit into my regulation Deputy dress for this year--it was made shortly after Lee died when I was at my lowest weight in about 25 years, and (2) because there would be no time to change.
Now, to make myself look like a grown up lady. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be an actress from the time I was about four years old--this lasted until sometime in my freshman year in college when I decided I really didn't know what I wanted to do when I grew up--I'm still stuck in that frame of mind. One of the things about acting that fascinated me was the make-up. I have tons of make up, and I love it all. Some of it belongs in the Smithsonian and I'm almost (but not quite) thinking about having a ritualistic dumping of the high school make-up. Now do I use all this stuff? Well, I have on occasion. I was really good about it for a while, and I look pretty good with a pound of two of paint. Then I got lazy. But I had to look good this weekend. My skin is normally pretty red, and any sort of emotion makes it redder. Dex also makes it redder. At first at the infusion center, they would ask me if I'd taken my Dex the day before, then they just learned to look at my scarlet face and they knew. A few years ago, someone in a mall kiosk talked me into buying mineral make-up, saying it would help the redness. She was an adorable girl from Israel and I was in a mood to be sold to. Did I ever open it when I got home? Of course not. It was sitting waiting for this very weekend. And I think it worked. I went blonde this weekend, so yesterday I used the eye make-up that I got to go with the blonde CP. Today, I wore a light blue suit, so I branched out into cornflower blue and faded denim. And the eyebrow pencil, that I never in my life used before, has become my best friend. Even if I wear nothing on my face, I use the eyebrow pencil. I think I have maybe a dozen hairs in each brow and I truly mourn each new hair that falls out. I have gotten to be a bit of an artist with the pencil, so it isn't that bad.
Now that we have me dressed and painted, off to the funeral. I got there early and collapsed on a comfy couch till the family got there. It started late but didn't last very long. My sister-in-law's older granddaughter gave a beautiful eulogy for her grandmother. I don't care who you are or how old you are, when your mother dies you are a five-year-old motherless child and suddenly know the true meaning of bereavement. It's your Mom, for goodness sake--the rock in your life who was there before the heavens and earth were created and who is supposed to be with you forever. I felt very sad for Deborah, her daughters, and her brother Jeffrey. Glenn went on to the funeral reception before he had to go to work (he traded shifts) and I went off to the OES reception. I got there in time, surprise of surprises. It was a lovely afternoon and I'm glad I made the effort. Still, I was glad when I could go home and get into my jammies.
Today, I pretty much repeated the process of turning myself into a grown up lady, just wearing the pale blue suit and matching makeup and going to church rather than a funeral before the tea--also and OES function. I was a little more unsteady on my feet today, thanks to the peripheral neuropathy. That will get worse and then get better--or not, but I think it will. I spent much time sitting at the tea. Once again, I was really glad when I'd eaten myself stupid on adorable little cookies and could come home and crash. It is now pushing 9 PM and my bed and book are looking very good to me.
It was wonderful to be out and about and see dear friends, but oh, my, did my Queen Anne Wing chair look good to me when I got home.
I haven't checked the calendar for tomorrow, but I don't think I have to do ANYTHING. Tuesday I have an appointment downtown, so that's a BART trip, and I think I will take my completed cross stitch projects to the framer, who always goes on vacation for the month of July. Wednesday is the radiation simulation and Thursday, Elaine and I are off to Las Vegas for a wedding.
That's it for now.
xxooxx