Chemo Five

Well, I was going to download my pictures from Canada and post them tonight. That would be one of the best laid plans of mice and men ganging aglee. The camera keeps shutting off when I try to access it. It may be the batteries, so I'll get some new ones and try again tomorrow. I'm not overly happy about that, but thems the breaks, as a co-worker of Lee's used to say.
Chemo went fine today. I can't believe it's the fifth one already and the last one is just around the corner. Fortunately the block that corner is on includes the Sonoma Mission Inn and Spa. Before I get there, I have to survive the orc wars and walk in the survivors lap in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life--hopefully the orcs will have retreated by then.
So what have I been doing lately. Monday was my annual eye exam. Something in my life is going right--no changes, no glaucoma, no Macular degeneration, no cataracts--yet. Have a good life and we'll see you next year.
Went downtown to see my therapist yesterday. I was feeling much better than I did two weeks ago. After the visit, I walked to the San Francisco Center, where I bought some more books--started on the Sue Grafton series, finally. Also went to Nordstrom where I couldn't find any clothes that I really wanted but did get some makeup--my eyebrows have been steadily thinning, so I got brow makeup to enhance them. My hair is still coming out, but not as much and now in inch or less long strands that are hard to pick up--so I'm just shedding.
Sorry about the pictures. I'll see what I can do about them tomorrow while I'm still feeling fairly good. I'm also hoping to make a run to the office to show the guys I'm still alive. Once I start radiation, I'll see if I'm up to maybe four hours a day. I need to get back to work before they figure out that they can get along perfectly well without me--if they haven't already. I miss my spreadsheets and fighting with vendors--er--setting vendors straight.
xxooxx

If I only have one life to live...

Those of you who are old enough know that the next line is "Let me live it as a blonde." Works for me. I picked up cranial prostheses numbers three and four yesterday. I haven't worn the redhead on the streets yet, but the blonde one is great. Glenn is worried that it will cost loss of brain cells. I say it leads to more exercise as I learn to flip it back. I love it.
So more good news--the wound is now only one cm deep. Wippee! Unfortunately, the opening is closing so I have an appointment Friday for the surgeon to open it up a little bit. I can handle that. It is uncomfortable for a day or so, but it beats having the thing close and get infected again.
I finished the first of the two sweaters for my night nurse's daughters and didn't have enough yarn to complete the second one, so I had to make a trip to the yarn store. Bad idea. Should have called and had her send the three skeins I needed. When I go to the shop, I want everything I see. Good thing I have LOTS of time to knit. Now I'm hustling on sweater #2 so that I can move on to other stuff and try to clear out some of the bags of yarn.
I'm now 2/3 through this chemo cycle. I know I need the next week for healthy cells to grow. Even so, this week I'll be pawing the ground, just waiting to get session #3 over. I still think the best idea would have been to put me in coma till the whole process is over--but then, I wouldn't get to knit. I guess life is always a series of trade offs.
xxooxx

Bewigged

One more step on this cancer journey. I now have the first of two cranial prostheses. It is not the one that matched my hair color--apparently that one is custom made and takes a little longer. Glenn said I look like a teenager. We will see what the rest of the world thinks as I spring myself on them.
At the hair replacement salon, first they shaved of my remaining hair (about 1/4 to 1/3 of my original volume). If I ever had a desire to become a Marine, this would be the time to apply. It was sad watching it go, but better in the long run. I threw away the plastic bag with the fallen hair I'd been collecting--it was one giant hairball. I feel like I'm wearing a hat, but I suppose I will get used to it. I had really good hair, which was a good thing, because I was never really good with it. I somehow missed the part in junior high school when everyone else was learning to fix their hair. I'm still kind of useless with a blow drier and a brush, so it was God's own mercy that my hair had a nice natural wave. With a good cut, I could pretty much just scrunch and fluff while it was drying and I looked about as fine as I was going to look.
So now I have cyberhair (and yes, that is what it is called) with a memory. My scalp still hurts and I'm so ready for this whole adventure to be behind me. Too bad--there's a long way to go. Tomorrow is chemo number two, and that will take what hair is left. After that, I will have a year to a year and a half to learn to love my cranial prosthesis.
xxooxx

Hairwatch

"Give me down to there, shoulder length or longer..." The lyrics keep running through my head. Might even be worth finding a turntable and hauling out my old late 60's recording of "Hair." The hair loss has started in earnest. At first it was the H&G thing of dropping a trail of hair wherever I went. This morning, my scalp hurt--losing chunks of hair can't be far behind. Individual strands are still coming out, but in greater number.
I remember being terribly concerned that my mother would lose her hair when she was diagnosed with leukemia--16 years and five days before they found my cancer. Eventually, hair loss was a non-issue, with all the other stuff that was going on. I know it has to happen, and I know that it will grow back before the end of the year. I have lots of pretty scarves and hats and the wigs are on order and due in on Tuesday. I'm trying to be strong about it, but right now all that isn't working. I almost wish that at a given signal it would all fall out and get it over with--there's that patience thing getting in the way of reality again. I could have it cut short or off--I just couldn't bring myself to do that. Some perverse part of me wants to mourn each hair that falls to the ground. I never used to mind losing the white hairs, but the brown ones are traitors. I always wanted to tape them back when they would come out before in the natural cycle of hair.
So I'm feeling sorry for myself this morning. My scalp hurts and I need someone to follow me around with a dust pan. I'll get over it.
xxooxx

May Day, 2008

When we were little, our mother and grandmother always told us that if we got up early on May Day, went out and bathed in the dew, we would be beautiful all year. Another golden opportunity lost. The morning dew did not see me today. Actually, the morning dew has never seen me--perhaps that's the problem. Even when I was a little girl (and yes, at one time I was a little girl--I've been 5 foot 6 since I was eleven but I didn't start out that tall), bathing in the dew just didn't sound like something I would like to do.
It's a holiday in Europe. Last year we went to the D-Day beaches and Mont St. Michel. It was a day of somber reflection and a dinner where we laughed so hard our sides hurt. It was our typical local dinner, complete with a first course of fruits de Mer that few of us recognized--or knew how to eat. After dinner, Tim, Lesley, and I walked from our hotel back to Mont St. Michel--about 3 miles round trip. We climbed up narrow streets and tiny little staircases and laughed lots more. I kept asking myself what I was doing out walking in the middle of the night. Unlike a normal walk, it was WAY longer on the way back. i just couldn't convince the two of them that since I was old enough to be their mother, they should carry me back.
I am now, officially, on Hairwatch. Everything I've read or heard says that hair loss usually starts between week 2 and 3 after starting chemo. Yesterday was week 2. I don't know quite what I'm expecting--to wake up with a head of hair left on my pillow, to shower it all off, to leave a trail of hair like Hansel and Gretl with the breadcrumbs. So I'm checking the comb and waiting. There's a lot of waiting with cancer. Patience has never been a part of my constitution and now I have to practice it on so many fronts.
I wonder if there is any dew left. Maybe I'll see if it works. Or maybe I'll save that for next year.
xxooxx