it's like a 5 o'clock shadow...for my head

I noticed on Thursday that my head seemed to be somewhat fuzzier, darker. But I didn't want to be jumping the gun here, stating that I might have some actual hair on my head.
Today, I took some pictures, and, yup, I seem to have more hair!

It's still quite thin, yes. And some of it isn't so much brunette as it is...void of color. But, it's there. And it's mine. By the time it's officially summer, I may be able to get away with wearing just a hat, on a really hot day, instead of a wig, topped with a hat, to protect my head from sunburn.

Also, my eyebrows are showing signs of coming back, though I'm not sure you can see that here.

Close up, in the mirror, I can see it. (This is my left eyebrow, BTW. Apparently, it thought it should match the right one. Stupid eyebrows. Do you have any idea how hard it is to draw eyebrows on yourself? Or how long that takes? Sheesh.)

My nails, however, seem to think it would be better to abandon ship.

Did no one tell them that chemo is over? Really, guys, you can stay! No need to peel off and regrow! (It's the index and middle finger there that are showing signs of peeling. So far.)
I trimmed them shorter, in an effort to keep them from catching on anything and getting pulled off. Not sure that's going to help, but, it was worth a shot. I'd say something like "why couldn't it have been my toenails instead", but, then one of those would want to come off, too. So, I never said that. Nope. And yes, I am aware that I could use a good manicure. It's just best if I don't do that until my nail strength is back to normal. I can live with ragged cuticles if it means keeping my nails. It's all a matter of perspective.

6th & final chemo

My mom came with me for this last session. (Which was on Tues, May 15) We were quiet, only talking a little bit. I was a bit loopy from the benadryl again, and struggling not to sleep, because I wanted to knit. Which I did.
(Mom was quiet partly because anything she said was commented on by the nearest nurse(s), and this made her feel as though everyone was listening. Which is kinda true. That's just how it is in the chemo room.)
Because this was my last session, there was a little bit of hoopla from the nurses, and a bottle of sparkling cider for me to celebrate with! (Sorry, no picture. I was drowsy and not thinking straight.)

When I talked to my onco, he was with me on the whole "get this port out as soon as possible" thing. He says we can leave it in until after radiation is over (they'll take blood about once a week), or take it out before that starts, if I don't mind a needle stick (I don't). I tell him I've always had an easy vein, but I'll see how I feel when we meet up again in June. No question of taking it out at the end of that day, as I would already be knocked down by the chemo; adding minor surgery to that isn't the best idea.

(Did you see what I said there? I don't have to see another doctor until MID JUNE!
I really like that. I'm so very very tired of doctors and nurses and always having to go back.)

I have been more tired. More down, emotionally. And sometimes, even now, two weeks later, I get a sort of wave of exhaustion. I'll be sitting at my desk, or even relaxing in bed, and suddenly, I'll feel as though I just finished climbing a huge hill, every muscle in my body weak, every joint sore. Like I just can't keep going another second. It passes fairly quickly. But that's strange, too.

In the meantime, my left eyebrow has decided it wants to match the right, so now I must color them both in. Sometimes more than once, since I tend to sweat them off if I do too much. I see no sign of these particular hairs trying to grow back just yet, either. Bother.

The hair on my head, it seems, got the message that we've had our last chemo, and looks as though it's trying to grow back already. It's just a light fuzz, filling in about the fuzz that never really left. But it's there. I think. I might be imagining it, actually. Not sure.

My weight. I'd like to ignore that issue. But I can't. I said before that I refuse to buy new pants. I still refuse. I can get into my skinnier jeans, without much struggle, actually. But it's not pretty. No, it's not a good look at all. And my face...ugh...it's all puffy (okay, it's fat). What's strange is that I seem to have gained more just in the last week, and I can tell you that I'm not endlessly eating (although, for whatever reason, this time my taste buds were almost normal), and in fact, I've been significantly more physically active than I was in between all the other chemo sessions. It's discouraging. I had been losing weight slowly, back in Nov/Dec, before the diagnosis. I felt like I was starting to look pretty good. And then apparently, I had to be one of those that gains weight while being treated for cancer. Because, why not? I think I find it more discouraging right now than how my head looks with it's uneven fuzz of hair. If they tell me I'm not supposed to try to lose weight while I do radiation (like they did when I started chemo), I think I'll explode. I mean, if someone is already overweight, isn't it okay if they continue doing something healthy, as long as they don't end up underweight? (HA! as if that could happen!) Not happy about how puffy I feel.

Anyway, puffy or not, for a while at least, life can tilt back towards normal. And maybe I can get caught up with things at home and work. Maybe.

I dropped my son off at the MTC today. It was a bitter-sweet parting. I started getting emotional as we drove over. I managed to hold it together (mostly) while we unloaded luggage and made sure he had the essentials. Then, as the two "host" missionaries were about to walk away with my son and all his belongings, I asked for one more hug. My boy hugged me so tight. Tighter than I've been hugged in a long time. Almost tight enough to last two years. Almost.

I'm so very proud of him. I know he's going to be a great missionary. But I'm going to miss him so very very much.

fuzzy and incomplete

Hair loss with chemo is unpredictable.
Not to mention, it's different for everyone, like most things with chemo.
Most of you saw how quickly my hair left my head, once it started. But what you may not know is that I never lost all of it. Some of it was just too stubborn to leave. Or maybe, somehow, the body knows just how much hair it can sustain, and that's how much it leaves. Whatever the reason, I still have hair on my head.

Not enough that I'd want to go out bare-headed.

No

 Just enough that it's comical.

It's all fuzzy. And usually, it sticks straight up.

At this point, shaving it off again would just be silly.

Also, while I hope I've been clever enough with the make-up that most of you wouldn't have noticed? I've lost a fair amount of hair from my right eyebrow.

And a few lashes as well.

I color it in, and mostly you can't tell. But it's a bit sparse. The left one is okay. What's that about?

Sparse just about sums up what hair there is on my body. Sparse, and also fine. What there is is nearly invisible. Mostly. (The upside to this? I used to have a few hairs on my chin, which I was obliged to pluck from time to time. Haven't seen any in months.)

A couple of weeks ago, I decided I'd shave my legs and underarms. Now I'm wishing I hadn't, because what's growing back in seems darker and courser. What was there was only visible if you got really close to me. Will I never learn?

Lastly, for the curious, even the remaining "canopy" has thinned to just a sprinkling of hair. I feel all exposed and naked. Even when I'm dressed. And some people, apparently, do this deliberately? Weird.

treatment #5

I am kinda starting to dread these chemo treatments. The recovery time is lengthening each time, it seems, with new side effects and pains. When I told my onco I was starting to resent the whole process he just looked at me and said, "oh, so, you're human? I was starting to think you were some kind of super-woman."
I suppose that just about sums it up. I had been feeling pretty good, bouncing back pretty fast, up to the last one.

Not really different from the rest in the moment. Except my port behaved right away and we didn't have to do much but lay me back in the recliner, and we had it giving up blood. But then I mentioned that I only had one treatment after this, so I wouldn't be keeping it much longer, and she informs me that no, they like to keep them in until well after radiation, because they'll take blood while that's going on, and then usually, she said, they leave them in until you've been cleared at the one-year mark.

Excuse me?

I do NOT want this piece of plastic, with its tube going directly into my jugular, just sitting there, for no good reason, for another YEAR. I'm gonna have to talk to someone about that. I can take being stuck with a needle if they need to, for whatever testing they'll want to do, once the prescribed treatments are finished with. But this THING has a popped stitch that pokes from the inside, and the tube jabs my neck in some positions when I'm trying to sleep, and I just think, maybe, we can do without it. I hope.

Anyway.

So they'd scheduled me a bit late in the day, 2pm, for what should take about 3 hrs. I came early for the blood stuff, so I didn't hold them up. But it was getting toward 5pm, and the first bag of poison was still not finished. I understand they'd like to go home, and I wanted to be done, too. After twice thinking the bag was empty, and it wasn't, the nurse decided to squeeze out what was left so she could switch to the other poison. Yeah. I felt that. She stood behind me so I didn't have to see her do it, but I could hear it, and then, my whole body went quite warm for about a minute. Quite warm. Ick.

It was really strange.

Then, the rest went as normal. Didn't take much longer and I was done.

It was after 5, so I didn't plan to go back to work, even though I felt fine. I did pop in for a few more minutes, to finish up some things, because I knew I'd be a bit spacey the rest of the week, if not worse.

And basically, that was all I was. At first. Kinda spacey Thursday. Kinda getting tired Friday, and only sort of woozy Saturday, but knowing my body would need sleep. I didn't try to push it. I tried to sleep. I just couldn't quite sleep enough, maybe. Or maybe, my body is more destroyed this time, and I needed more. By Monday, it was evident I wasn't going to make it to work. Still didn't sleep so much as I just lay there, resting (which is almost good enough), but it wasn't so much helping me to feel better.

I kept thinking, as I lay there drifting in and out of sleep, only getting up to use the bathroom, that I might be feeling better, sooner, if only I had an IV fluid drip. It's really hard to drink enough liquids when water tastes nasty, and even harder to drink when you're sleeping. So I know I wasn't getting enough to keep me hydrated, but still, I couldn't seem to make myself drink more. I keep trying. But my mouth feels dry (which is another side-effect, new for me) and no matter how much I seem to drink, I'm sure it's not enough, yet.

So here it is Friday, and I'm still feeling worn out. I've been in to work every day, but some days, not even for half the day.

And my room....it sort of....stinks. Just a sort of "funk" I can only say isn't...normal.

I think I'll be able to manage changing the sheets, doing some laundry. I should be able to. If not, I'll make my boy help me. Understand, it's not the laundry that will wear me out. That part is easy. It's the whole walking around the double bed multiple times while I put on new sheets. That can be kind of tiring, all on your own. I've always thought that when the bed is too big to make while standing to one side, there ought to be someone else on the other side to help you out. It's sort of a two-person job, when the bed is big enough for two. Should be, anyway. But that's neither here nor there. One problem at a time. Get past the cancer, and then see what's next.

I am so grateful there is only one more of these to go. At least then, when I start feeling better afterwards, I don't have to remind myself there is another one coming up.

hidden damage

I'd heard that your nails often show the state of your health.
Sort of a history, shown almost like the rings of a tree.
But I'd never been able to really see anything, until now.

Can you see it? Those darker curved lines at the base of each nail? (Or is it the lighter parts in between?) And there's another, coming in at the base, which you might be able to see if I'd taken the time to push back my cuticles before taking the picture (I know you'll ignore my lack of manicure).

I figure there is one "ring" for each chemo treatment. Probably takes a couple of weeks before it starts to show up.

Proof that my body isn't especially happy with how it's being treated.

It's not the cancer that makes your immune system weak, your body less able to do what it normally does. It's the treatment.

4th treatment, same as last time (pretty much)

Stubborn port again, but we were able to clear it and move along. Stuff would go IN, it just didn't want to come OUT. And since we have to test my blood before they'll let me have more chemo, (wait, like, it's some sort of privilege?) we have to get it to give it up, or we're looking at a needle stick. Bad enough I've got to walk around with this piece of plastic in me, reminding me every second of every day that I'm not normal. But lets add a needle stick to that while we're at it, okay? Not so much.

Anyway, I was alone for this one. Just the way it turned out. Twin1 had been already, so I didn't feel like I could make him come. Twin2 was sick (just a sore throat, but, not allowed) as was my mom. And my bestie, Betty, was out of town. Jupiter offered to come, but, I was really fine. I had the new socks just started, and I knew what I'd be doing with my time.

The benadryl made me super-sleepy, but I fought it and kept knitting. I didn't want to give up my knitting time. Or be caught snoring in the comfy chair.

Turned out okay - didn't make any knitting mistakes, and I managed to keep awake through the whole thing. Was a tad wobbly on my way to the bathroom a couple times, but I had the IV pole to hang onto, so I was fine. Uh huh. Fine.

This is how far I got with the new socks:

Not bad for just a few hours, right? And I got more done that night, after work.

I went back to work, after chemo. Right at this moment, I'm not sure I know exactly what I did for the couple of hours I was at the office that evening. Mostly office-type stuff, I guess. Not much in the way of client work, is what I mean. More admin and housekeeping/prep work for the month to come. Harmless stuff.

I worked the rest of the week as well. Mostly clear-headed until later Friday. But when I came home Friday, after feeling that I couldn't work another second at the office, I didn't get to sleep until well after midnight. Couldn't do any more desk work, but apparently I couldn't sleep yet, either. More than one kind of tired, I guess. I worked on a few projects from bed until I was finally nodding off.

Saturday and Sunday kind of blur together. There was sleeping, eating, watching some Netflix. And I went to the grocery store Saturday evening. Only gone for 1/2 hour, but it totally knocked me out. Got my ice cream, though, so I was happy.

Lots of tasty meals came our way, with some cute Easter lamb cookies from one neighbor. How sweet of them to give us that little bit of Easter! I was touched.

Back to work Monday, for about 1/2 day, but my mind wasn't totally clear, and I was tired and yawning all day.

Much better today. Except for that nasty taste in my mouth, combined with a feeling like the inside of my mouth has been roughed up with sand paper or something. Getting real tired of sucking on lemon drops or chewing gum, I tell you.

And this time, my fingernails hurt. All of them. Even my toes. It's like how they hurt when you've been using them (unwisely, I'm sure) to unpick a stubborn knot in your shoelaces. Do you know that feeling? Like I've used every single last fingernail and toenail like they were pliers or something, pinching with just the nail ends, and pulling at something. Except of course, I haven't. Even if I had, how would I have done that with my toenails? Not possible. But that's how they feel. It almost hurts to type. Wonder how long it will last?

out without

Saturday evening we needed to go to the grocery store. I'd been mostly sleeping all day, and I didn't feel up to putting on my hair. Something to do with wearing glasses, and the way wigs fight with that. I don't know. My boy said we wouldn't see anyone, what's the big deal, etc.

We saw people. People we knew. And I looked awful.

Sorry about that.

We were only out for about 1/2 hour, including travel time, but it felt like more.

I was one tired momma.