the thing about my hair

Now that I have basically no hair of my own left on my head, I must admit, it is rather freeing. I can understand now why some women would choose to shave it off before any of it begins to come out.
If you do it yourself, it isn't just something that happened. It's something you did. And that can be empowering.

I guess I held out as long as I did because I wanted to see if it was actually going to fall out. How silly would I have looked if it never even thinned? Even though both my chemo meds listed hair loss as a possible side effect, I figured there was at least a little hope that it wouldn't happen. Once it started to come out by the handful, I knew it wouldn't be long, and that's when I went wig shopping in earnest.

I didn't realize, at the time, that others were dealing with my hair loss, too. I hadn't thought a lot about that side of it, beyond knowing that it might be disturbing to some, just thinking about it.

My younger boy has a difficult time looking at me when I'm walking about the house bare-headed. I sympathize, and I try to remember to at least put on a hat so he doesn't have to see how bald I am. My mom made me a couple hats, of soft knit, and these are incredibly comfortable.

It was my mom that surprised me, though. When she read the first post about my hair loss, it made her sad. She didn't like to think about that happening to me. She told herself it was just hair, but, practical as she generally is, that didn't seem to help much.

Saturday evening, when I was ready to have the rest of my hair buzzed off, I went over to my parents house. I had planned to have a friend do it, but she wasn't able to come over. So I asked mom to do it for me. She hesitated, just for a moment, but not because she didn't want to buzz my head. She just didn't want to clean it up - we like to do this sort of thing outside, on the lawn, but it was too cold and dark for that. (See, she's totally practical. I love that about her.)

We set up in the bathroom, and she cut off sections of hair, and then started in on the final buzz cut. When she was done, she asked me if she should clean up the neck area. I told her to leave it - it's all going to fall out eventually, so it didn't matter.

We gathered up the hair and put away the tools, and I thanked her and went home.

The next day, after dinner, she told me that she was glad she'd been the one to do it. Cutting and buzzing off the rest of my hair had been good for her, because it wasn't just something that happened, it was something she did.

A few years ago, I'd had her buzz my hair short in the summer, because I was going to camp for a week and I wanted to be able to quickly shower and get on with my day without worrying about my hair. I wonder, now, if I hadn't done that, if I'd be as okay as I am about how I look now. About having to cut my once long, thick, curly hair so short. Or having no hair at all on my head.

It's one thing when you've decided you want to cut it off. It's quite another when it happens against your will. It takes time to adjust to it. I've had some time to think about it, picture how it might happen, and how I would look. And I was smart to go out wig shopping with an open mind, ready to try anything.

It's different, but, I'm okay with it. And so is mom.

thinking about strength

I've been thinking lately about one of the qualities that I've been told, over and over, I have in abundance.

I think, in part, because I'm a single mom, people assume I must be really strong. Spiritually, mentally, maybe even physically. And I've always been of the opinion that, no, I'm not. Not any more than anyone else, anyway.
I mean, yes, I did, in a lot of ways, take the part of both parents in raising my boys. But in so many ways, I didn't. The things that I did, most of them, in my mind, fall under the category of "survival", which translates for me as something you just do, like it or not. Not doing them wasn't an option. Everyone needs a roof over their heads, money to maintain that and to pay for other basic needs like food and clothing, and so I went to work. What's so remarkable about that?

And then this happens. Breast Cancer.

And again, for me, it's a matter of doing what needs doing. It's not about whether or not I think I can handle it. Is there really a choice? Would any of you, having found a lump in your breast (or other cancerous growth, anywhere), just put it out of your head? Tried to forget about it? Tried to pretend it wasn't there?
Because otherwise, what else do you do? You have it looked at. And you take the advice of the medical professionals that attend you.

That's all I'm doing, really. Following the advice of those who know what to do.

I've often wondered, over the course of my young life, why it is that I am able to handle so much, what it is that Heavenly Father was expecting of me, beyond what I was doing at the moment, that I would need such an abundance of strength? Because, in some ways, I accept that I am one of the "strong ones". (I also believe we are all strong, in different ways.) I didn't like to think about what challenge might come my way that I would need to draw on my inner strength and courage to survive, or even thrive, while dealing with whatever it was.

While this particular event in my life may not be the biggest challenge I ever face, this is clearly one of those things that I needed that strength for. I guess I can accept that. I can see that what I've had to build up, over time, through faith and perseverance, is now serving me well. But that doesn't mean I don't wish, from time to time, that this was not happening. Because I do wish that. Or, at least, I wish it was already over. Sometimes.

With adversity comes blessings. Always. And I want those blessings. I really do.

My oldest boy has just been ordained as a Melchizedek Priesthood holder in the LDS church. This means that he is able to give Priesthood blessings. Blessings to heal the sick, to bring comfort and peace to those facing challenges. Last night, he was able to give me my "evening before chemo" blessing. This being his first experience, I wondered what advice to give him. He asked my dad what formal parts he needed to say, and I turned to say to him that he could, if he wanted, say a small prayer for himself that he would be able to know what Heavenly Father wanted to say to me through this blessing. But, as I started to open my mouth, I realized that this is my boy that has always been able to just let things flow through him. When he feels something, he just lets it happen, he doesn't fight it. I realized, if anyone could be a conduit for the Lord, to say what He wanted me to hear in a blessing, it was my boy. He was ready. So I said nothing.

It was a very sweet blessing. The words he said came directly from the Lord. I knew it in my heart and in my mind as I listened to my boy. Words of comfort and encouragement. And not just about my cancer and the peace and comfort we have all felt, myself, family, friends, as we've dealt with this challenge. Peace and comfort that have come through the gift of the Holy Ghost.
There was more, about my boys. Words of comfort to a mother that often wonders if she's done the right things, raising these two boys.
These were not the words of a 19-yr-old boy. These words came from a loving Heavenly Father. And I am so pleased that it was my boy that was able to speak them.

If I have strength, it is because the Lord has blessed me with it, and I have had enough faith to accept it and allow it to grow within me. For that, I am thankful.

2nd chemo

My older boy came to sit with me this time. He wasn't ready when it was time to go, so I had to just give him directions on how to get there. He was there a while before he found me - I'm not right as a blonde, in his head. Incognito just by changing my hair.

Less of the floaty feeling from the Benadryl this time. Either I needed some of it for my sinuses, or I'm used to it.

I mostly knitted while the meds dripped slowly in. My boy read a few short stories he'd downloaded onto my Kindle. Turns out, it wasn't just me having wi-fi issues last time. The nurses said it's been broken for a few weeks. They called their IT people to ask about it, but it's not fixed yet. I hope it works next time, so I can at least compose a blog post while I'm there, and capture what I'm feeling at the moment. I'm glad my phone allows me to facebook if I want to.

This time, when I'm done, the bone/joint pain starts in right away, and I'm already uncomfortable just driving home. I take Claritin and Advil as soon as I get home, which seems to do the trick, thank heavens. I have work to do, at the office, before the fatigue sets in.

I told my onco about how the nausea meds gave me a headache, and he called in something else for me, in case I do need it. It may make me drowsy, but, that's much better than a headache. Currently, I'm fine. No discomfort as I write this. That's a blessing. I should sleep well tonight. Last night, the steroids kept me up past 2am. Oddly, I was fully awake at 7:30 when my alarm went off.

I think I'm going to try taking the steroid doses further apart on Friday. The overlap makes me tense and too jittery. My right shoulder wouldn't relax until well after 6pm yesterday, and it was very painful, knotted. Enough so that I couldn't work at my computer for more than a few minutes at a time. I don't need that, and I'm sure I'll get enough sleep once the fatigue sets in Saturday to make up for any sleep I miss Friday.

We talked about my side-effects from last time. How I'm fatigued, like I have the flu, but also hungry, all the time. He said that's new - he's not heard of it being that way for anyone else before. Most feel their appetite wane for the first couple days, and then it comes back. Leave it to me to be different.

He complimented my hair. Said I was positively glowing. Looked at least 20 years younger.

I'm telling you, ladies, if you ever have to go through this, do yourself a favor, and get at least one wig you LOVE! Spend the extra money to get a good one. It's worth it. Have fun with it! I've got lots of pretty scarves and hats, and I've yet to wear them outside the house. I just love my new hair so much, and it's comfortable on, so, I keep wearing it. Best thing I've done for myself so far.

That's 2 down, only 4 more treatments to go. One-third done. I can do this.

(didn't get any funny taste in my mouth this treatment. wonder why?)

(addendum: My port was stubborn this time. They had to flush it a few times before it would let them draw blood. I really hope it keeps working like it should. I don't want an IV in my arm - it impairs my ability to knit.)

buzz is fading fast

I've noticed, with this super-short buzz, that I have more naturally dark hair than I thought I might.

I started going gray when I had the Twins, so dying my hair isn't a new thing for me. It's just that more and more of it was turning up gray in recent years, so, that there was anything left of my natural color was surprising to me. But obviously, with it this short, most of that dark hair must be natural. My last color treatment was in early January.

At any rate, brunette or gray, it's thinning fast.

I forgot to take a picture Sunday or Monday. I took one post-shower Tuesday, but the lighting was odd and bluish, so we'll just skip to Wednesday (today):

Interesting how it seems to be evenly distributing the hair loss. I do have a few bare patches in front, but from the back, it mostly just looks thin and sparse.

FYI: I still can't seem to pull much of it out on purpose. Weird.

Also, for the curious among you: Yes, other places are shedding as well. I still need to shave my legs and underarms (not that I bother, unless they're going to be visible), but I think I can safely say that I won't be needing a bikini wax by the time swimsuit season hits.

changeable

Saturday, I wore the blonde, and I really liked it. A lot.

Sunday, because it was a special occasion for Twin1, I put on the short brunette, so he could see how that looked as well, and let him choose which one I would wear to church.

I'd tweaked it a bit, played with it until it looked cute to me, so I wasn't hating the brunette. I just really love the blonde.

He chose the brunette.

Both boys say they don't recognize me right off in the blonde. And the short brunette, it looks sort of like the haircut I got in Paris, my second trip to Europe. So it's more familiar.

All through church, people kept coming up to me, telling me how cute my new haircut was. Mostly, I smiled and thanked them. I do like it, and the boys are right, it looks like me.

Occasionally, someone would ask when/where I'd gotten my haircut, and then I'd confess that it's a wig. It was only after church that I realized I could have just said I'd had mom cut my hair Saturday night, because that's when we'd buzzed off what little remained. (More on that later.) But I didn't really want to go into that with anyone and everyone - cancer is a difficult thing to take in when you didn't already know. Those that did know, they were every bit as complimentary.

Thing is, now I'm wondering, will I have to wear the brunette to church every Sunday? I don't intend to wear the same wig to work every day. I've got that other, long, brunette wig coming soon, and I know I'll want to wear it. Not to mention, there will be days I don't want to wear a wig. I already tend to walk around the house with no head covering.

Is it too disturbing to others, this changeable hair?

Day 17

I'm convinced: the best way to have a good attitude about hair loss with chemo is to find the right wig (or wigs).

Every time I looked at the short, dark wig, I'd sneer at it. It looked good on, but, I just wasn't thrilled. I wasn't ready to go that short again right now. Or something. Which is what led me to go out wig shopping, never mind the cost. (Yes, they can be very expensive.)

In contrast, every time I looked at the blonde wig, I'd think to myself, "once I lose the rest of my hair, I get to wear that!" And that's the kind of thing that can boost your day, even if your hair does come out by the handful in the shower. (Which it did, more so than yesterday even, but I'll spare you the pictures this time.)

This morning, I brushed my hair (which resulted in a smallish handful of loose hair in my hands), and considered, just for a minute, not washing it today.

It still looked normal. I knew if I washed it, I'd lose a lot more hair, and I'd have to just give it up and buzz the rest off. But, buzzing off the remainder today seemed more logical than trying to fit that in tomorrow, what with church and everything, so, wash it I did.

Now even a stranger would know I was losing my hair. It has the fine quality of a toddlers' hair: lovely soft, but so thin. If I didn't care much about how I looked, I suppose I could have gone out like this.

But I care.

Plus, I had that cute blonde wig waiting for me! How could I resist?

So today, this is me:

For one thing, I got a lot more looks driving to work as a blonde in my convertible than I ever did as a brunette. As for those that know me? My co-workers all like it. My Twins? Well, they'll get used to it.

hair loss increasing

This may be a bit of TMI, but, I wanted to show exactly what's been happening, so, I took pictures.

Of my hair.

Which I'm shedding at an alarming rate. (Sorry.)

On the left, that is most of what I shed yesterday (day 15). I didn't wash my hair that day - I only brushed it. I was going to try on wigs that morning, and I wanted not to be damp.
On the right, the larger mass is what came out as I washed my hair this morning (day 16). The smaller is what came out as I rinsed. (Less a little that came out while showering the rest of me that I didn't save for you.)

In the interest of perspective, I'd say that the larger mass, if gathered up softly, would be about the size of a softball. Roughly.

You may be wondering, with that much hair just falling from my scalp, if I've any left?

(Personally, yes, I was afraid to look in the mirror after I finished my shower. And I didn't dare even try to put any product in like I usually do. I knew that would just result in more hair in my hand and less on my head.)

Took pictures of that, too.

Ready?

Not bald yet. Not really even noticeable.

Even from the back.

Surprised? I was, too.

I'd read that you could lose up to 50% of your hair before anyone else would notice. I found that hard to believe. But it's clearly true.

FYI: Touching my hair, in any way, especially running your fingers through it, does in fact result in a fair amount of hair coming away in your hand. I don't recommend it.
Oddly, I still can't purposely pull anything out if I try. Not that I'm yanking hard on it, you understand. Just grabbing a hank and giving it a tug. It's just thinning itself.

Tomorrow? I'll be having an impromptu "coming out" party for my hair. I'll be buzzing what's left of it short. I think. Anyone care to join me?

Wig Shopping

So, I've already got the one wig, from the gift closet at UVRMC:

But my current hairstyle is rather longer:

In fact, this is the longest my hair has ever been in my adult life, and I sort of like it right now. So I needed another.

I decided to go to Taylor Maid - a Utah-born costume shop and salon. I have had occasion to meet the owners, and they're nice people. I figured I'd be more comfortable talking about my hair with someone I already know, and I knew they'd give me good wig advice and help me figure out what was best for my face, etc.

Rick and the girls from the salon were fabulous! We tried on quite a few different styles, I looked through a catalog or two, and I ordered one that looks very like my current actual hair, in what I hope is close to my natural color (he helped with that, too, and we're sure we got it right).

And then, because when I tried it on, it looked so good, as-is, I bought this one:

What do you think?

I never really saw myself as a blonde, but, I don't know...I think this works.

losing it

This morning, as I unbraided my hair (long hair should be braided at night, to keep it from tangling and getting everywhere), there was a fair amount of hair that just came out while I finger-brushed through it.

And then, in the shower, running my fingers through my hair as I gently washed it, it didn't seem to take much to pull out more. Not that I was trying, mind you, it's just one of the things that happens when you wash your hair and then put conditioner in it.

I was half-afraid to pull the towel from my head afterwards.

I still have hair. I still look normal. But it's on its' way out.

For the record, this is day 14.

(was scared to try it, but, I am happy to report: when I grab some hair and try to pull it out, it doesn't just fall away in my hands. thank heavens.)

actual normal

Last night, when I got home from work, I remembered I had to get into my yarn stash to extract a particular color of a particular yarn that I need for a little project I'm working on. I knew it was there, and where it was, basically, and knew that getting to it meant moving many things, leaning, reaching, rummaging, etc. Hard work, in other words. But I felt up to it.

I put on a movie in the sewing room (I need distractions like that), and went to work.

Rummage was successful, movie wasn't over, so I sat down, started the movie over (since I'd missed much of it while I had my head in the yarn stash), and started in on another project that I'd been meaning to get to. Next thing I know, it's past midnight, I've gotten carried away doing this project, and I don't feel anything but the normal, everyday tired that I used to when that happened.

Seriously.

As I tidied up and headed for bed, I thought just how nice it was to have stayed up late doing stuff I used to do, feeling like I used to feel.

Like a normal person.

day by day

I'm told I should really start to lose my hair around day 17, which will be this coming Saturday. In the meantime, here are some changes I have noted (after the days of fatigue) since that first dose of chemo:

Day 7/8 I notice my face looks sallow, and possibly a bit jowly. I wear blush and excessive amounts of powder to try to maintain a normal appearance. I hope it's not permanent. I have the sort of complexion that has allowed me to wear little-to-no make-up, even in my 40's, and still look fairly pretty. I'm admittedly a tad vain about this.

Day 9 I start to notice a change in the texture of my hair. At first, it seemed to get a bit glossier, softer, directly after chemo. But now it feels rough, dry. And it seems not to retain as much conditioner when I wash it. This makes no sense, as hair is basically dead anyway. However, I do know that my hair tends to be glossier when I've been consuming more protein and drinking plenty of water, so, maybe it's not that weird. (Note to self: drink more water. And maybe have a steak for dinner.)

Day 12 I think I'm starting to see more hair in the hair-catcher in the drain after my shower. Being realistic about it, I have noticed that the amount of hair fluctuated somewhat in sync with my monthly cycle, so possibly, this means nothing. But the paranoia is starting to get to me. The suspense of "when will I lose my hair?" could possibly make my hair fall out from stress. Seriously.

unsettling

While thinking about the word 'sanguin', and reflecting that this word perfectly describes how I've felt about my cancer from the day I found it (so certain that, while I will have to deal with it, and that it could be a fair amount of disruption in my life, I'd get past it and be done with it), suddenly, I'm not so sure. Still certain that this is not going to kill me. But now, I'm not so sure about the "done" part of it. Or something. I have no idea. It's unsettling.

random fun(?) facts of the moment

1) I eat an OBSCENE amount of food. All the time.
Okay, quite possibly, it's just a normal amount of food, but, I don't remember when I last ate three actual meals per day. I usually grab something like toast or a granola bar for breakfast, then munch on pretzels or possibly some raw veggies at lunch, and then by the time I'm done with work, I'm too tired to eat a proper dinner. I grazed, but hardly ever sat down to a proper meal. And I rarely packed a lunch for work. This morning, I packed a baked potato (w/butter & sour cream), leftover tomato sausage soup, crackers & cheese, pretzels, and a lunchable in case I needed a snack. Which I did.
Obscene, I'm telling you.

2) For the moment, my hair is looking and feeling quite soft and lovely. I wash (conditioner only) my hair every day, which I tended not to do. I used to let it ride a couple days between washing. And no, I am not yet losing any of it - normal amounts of hair in the hair-catcher in the drain.
When my onco was talking to me about my hair, and when I could expect to lose it, and saying how it could come back different, I looked him straight in the eye and told him I would hold him personally responsible if it came back in straight. He said he guessed that was reasonable.

3) It takes me about 3 hours to get ready in the morning. I feel pretty good when I get up, but everything I do takes much longer than it used to. Plus, I have to stretch (to make sure my muscles on the right will still have their full range of motion and strength), and currently have had to clean and dress this small part of one incision that didn't close properly, and also massage some Miracel into the other incisions to help them heal invisibly/faster. Those things only take a few extra minutes, but somehow, it translates to way more time than that. And by the time I'm dressed and ready, I need to eat again (see #1 above).

4) I can't fall asleep at night. I go to bed, like usual, and read (currently reading The Number Devil - enjoying it immensely - thanks Matt!) until I'm dropping off, but then, once I've put away the book and glasses, and shifted the pillows, I'm not so much sleepy as I was, and I try to just drop off again, but it sometimes takes hours. I can now, sometimes, sleep on my right side, which helps, but I can't do it all the time. I can't seem to get totally comfortable. Random unrelated parts of me ache, or I can feel the port line sticking into my neck, or my right arm gets a little numb. Or, more often, I'm just too warm and I have to throw off the duvet, and then I'm cold, so I pull it back over me, and then I'm too warm, and it can go on for hours.

5) Random, small discomforts disrupt my day/night. Parts of me ache for no apparent reason (chemo, or Neulasta, probably), and it's hard to relax. I also seem to get a headache nearly every day. I used to get them about once a year.

6) I am congested, and my allergies are acting up, especially at night. Drives me crazy. It's already hard enough to get enough to drink in a day, and then I need more because my sinuses are behaving badly. Nice.

7) If you were to ask me, no, I'm not particularly concerned or worried about anything (yes, I realize, there is this huge obvious thing going on, but I think I'm dealing with it fairly well). Clearly, I'm stressed - my body says so. Either I'm more anxious than I think, or it's the chemo. Or both.

8) I crave (and by crave I mean to the point it seems more important than life itself) human touch. I always liked a good hug, yes, but now, it's like I'll waste away to nothing if I can't have several per day. And I could really really really use a good long snuggle. And a foot rub. Or maybe a head massage. Okay, all of the above. Volunteers?

9) I'm slowly regaining my usual energy level. I think I'm getting about 1 hr per day more before I'm totally exhausted. Next week I might be up to going dancing again, if I'm lucky. This weekend, I wonder if I might manage a girls night? Possibly.

10) Sometimes, after I eat, I can taste coffee. And I haven't eaten or drunk anything even remotely related to coffee.

11) I had a moment, on Sunday, when I just wanted it all to stop. All of it. I wanted the poisons out of my body NOW, I wanted the port removed, and I wanted to be done. (The surgery was totally successful, so why should I have to do this?) I was just so DONE with all of it. I got over it. Mostly. I DO want more than a 70% chance that I won't get cancer again. I DO want to live to be an old woman and see my boys have families of their own and all that good stuff. I'd just like to skip this bit and get back to normal.

12) I'm starting to wonder just exactly what normal will look like after this is all over. Or if I'll have to adjust to a new normal permanently.

3rd & 4th day

Sunday, it really started to hit me. I felt okay when I got up, and church wasn't until 1pm, so I figured I'd at least try, even if I only stayed for Sacrament Meeting (which was about all I figured I'd have energy for, realistically). By the time we'd arrived (and we drive, unlike many LDS in Utah, because our neighborhood just doesn't have a chapel nearby) I was already done. I knew I could sit through the rest of the meeting, but then, I'd have to go.
Because we were late, we had to wait until they'd finished serving the sacrament before we could go in. Seating is iffy when you're late, in my ward, so we made a bee-line for the recently vacated deacons benches, up front. I don't remember much more of the meeting, and I certainly couldn't move very quickly, but I was glad I'd made the effort to be there. I remember singing the hymns in a very lack-luster way.
After Sacrament, I searched out a friend to give her a baby gift, and got a quick hug and adored her little baby and felt that soft, sweet cheek. Babies are restorative. A few more quick conversations, and I was on my way home. (I should point out, if this had been a weekday, instead of Super-Bowl Sunday, I might not have been wise to brave the roads on my own, as tired as I was. But there was basically nobody out there, so I was fine.)
Once home, I foraged in the freezer for frozen fruit for a smoothie (the cravings quickly become obsessions, hungry as I am, all the time), and came up with only raspberries. (Okay, there was a baggie of cut up cantaloupe of uncertain vintage, but that seemed not the thing. In fact, I'm sure I should toss that.) My wheat germ had long since gone off (tossed that), so instead I threw in some cream and added a little sweetened cream of coconut. That was one serious smoothie. I need fatter straws.
Exhausted, I lay down on the window seat (sunshine is good for me) and tried to sleep until the boys got home. Sleep was not having me, though, so I ended up watching something on Netflix via my Kindle Fire. My own personal little home theater, propped up on my belly.
Later on, I think I may have dozed for a while, but it still wasn't proper sleep. Not restful, anyway.
I called mom and asked if she'd bring me some senecot (yup, that's me, still backed up - can't relax in that condition), and made myself some soup for dinner. Hot liquids are supposed to help.

What it feels like: mainly, it's like I've got flu, but, not the nausea, just the aching body and need for sleep. Except, add to that, I'm HUNGRY all the time (which, when actually ill, I'm not), and it's sort of complicated. Also, possibly unrelated, I'm congested. My head - I can feel all the sinus cavities all over my head, aching, not draining. Sort of felt good to massage my head when I washed my hair earlier, but, sort of not. Tried some heat to alleviate the sinus pressure, which helped some, I think.

When I talk to the nurse, next day, she says I can take a decongestant, as long as I make sure I don't have a fever first. Any sign of infection is something to worry about, as my immune system is not going to be behaving normally for a while. After checking my temperature, I opt for some DayQuil and Tylenol - I still have a headache - and try to relax so I can get more sleep.

Monday is a blur. Tired, sleeping some, aching. I asked mom to bring me some OJ so I can make some Russian Tea. She comes over just before my sweet friend from the ward brings me dinner. I managed to be social for a bit, but it's like I'm in a fog. Not myself.

The dinner is delicious: herb baked chicken, perfect baked potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower & carrots, and a lovely salad - the kind with raspberries and mandarin oranges and almonds. Yummy. I'm so hungry, but about halfway through the chicken, I'm full, so I have my boy put it away for later. I had managed to eat the salad, veggies, and most of the baked potato. All of it so good.

At least I can still taste things. Some things, just a few, taste different. Some sweets are too sweet. And I'm oh-so-tired of water, plain water. So important to stay hydrated, but, so boring. I make peppermint tea, or some other herb tea, when I think I can stand something hot. (Just not a heat person in general - I like being cool.) Or I do some horchata mix, or some of those little Crystal Light packets you add to your water bottle. That helps.

Best of all is super-cold, icy water from (for some odd reason) my bathroom tap (kitchen tap isn't quite the same - go figure). Or having some pebble ice. Problem with pebble ice is, it melts. So that's hardly practical. But I get me some anyway, and make my boy run back and forth to the freezer filling my glass.

2nd day

I'm tired and restless, both. How should one cope with that? I find myself wishing for a stationary recumbent bike, so I can lay back and rest while I let my legs go for a spin.

No nausea as such, which I'm grateful for. Had a touch of it yesterday, in the morning, so I took the meds for that, which landed me with a whopping headache I couldn't shake. I'm not much of a headache person in general, and when I do get one, I generally only need one regular Tylenol, and I'm all set. Took two extra strength, and still had to walk around with the headache all day. Low level, but so annoying.

Today, I expected to be tired, run down. And I am, a bit. But I still needed to get out. I woke up around 8am, but didn't try to do much for a couple hours. Showered around noon, which felt fantastic, and then went out for a walk. I wasn't out more than five minutes before I realized I was starving (I'd been munching all morning, but hadn't tried for a proper meal as such), and hadn't brought my wallet with me. I live in a neighborhood bordering on several shopping and eating areas, as well as a path by the river, so there is everything I need within walking distance. I just forgot I might want some money with me. I call home, and arrange to meet my boy at Sonic. Next time, I tell myself, I'll remember. I'd have gone back home to eat, except, once I'd thought of Sonic, that's what I wanted. I had some cookies in my bag, but now I could think of nothing else but popcorn chicken and a blue coconut cream slush. It took him forever to get there.

I was hoping the walk might also get my bowels moving, but no. Most people have the opposite condition after chemo. Me, I get constipated when I travel sometimes, or when I'm preparing to have a bunch of people over, so I should have known this would be my lot. I usually just need a couple of fiber tablets and I'm back to normal. Still hoping it'll kick in, but it's been hours. Not a fan of being backed up. Hard to relax or nap in that condition. And I always find myself wondering just how much a person can eat and still not be able to vacate, as it were. How can I continue to get hungry if I can't empty out? And yet, I do.

Another, more interesting side effect of all this, is how very much I appreciate all the little daily mundane beautiful things. Like sunshine in February, the sound of the river, or the scent of the wood chips at the playground. Everything is wonderful and painful and lovely and precious. And family is so much more important, so much bigger, than anything else. And I find myself thinking, every day, all the time, how does anyone live without faith?

pretty and practical

I wanted to post this pic much earlier, but I couldn't get the picture to load while using my kindle to blog, and just didn't get back to it until now.

The lovely arrangement with roses and lilies was from the book club gals, and came with an incredible note that totally made my week. The smell from the lilies was HEAVENLY, like you wouldn't believe, and you could smell them all the way down the hall from the next floor up. Amazing.

The fresh and pretty daisies with roses was from my first husband, and came with a very sweet note that read, "to the strongest woman I know". Totally blown away by that. So sweet of him to send flowers. He's been amazing about this ever since I told him. We've been divorced for nearly 19 years, and been friendly for the last 10 or so. Even though he's just been through some very tough stuff himself, and is in law school, full time, he's been right there when I needed him.

The bread was from Jupiter, my roller-derby gal-pal. She made it herself, using eggs produced by her own chickens! I want to be just like Jupiter! Bread did not last long - I couldn't leave it alone.

Not pictured here, because it was upstairs in the entryway, for all to enjoy, is a lovely live-plant arrangement from one of my clients. I'm letting mom keep that one alive while I get my schedule mostly back to normal. I'm afraid it would die if I took it home, as I'm much better at keeping plants alive at my office. Starting to work mostly normal days now (with days off around chemo as needed), so it may come to the office soon. I love that I have clients that thought to send me something.

There were also many texts, phone calls, emails, and posts on facebook wishing me well throughout. All so very inspiring and heart-warming.
Especially all the people who dressed up in pink for the day of my surgery - some of them whole families - including most of my office:

many of whom went home before this picture was taken. I work with some amazing and compassionate people. They've been so supportive from the very beginning, even though this is our busiest season. I can't thank them enough.

I am so blessed.

first chemo

I wanted, so badly, to be blogging from the treatment room today, but the wi-fi wouldn't behave, so I had to wait until I was home again.

The prominent effect, for the first two hours, was that I felt loopy from the benadryl. They put that in first, to help my body accept the chemo and other medicines they will be putting into me. I kept thinking, how will I drive home, if I'm still this loopy when I'm done? I had my SIL with me, to keep me company (mom had to work, or it would have been her), and she could have driven me home, but what about my car? Fortunately, the effect wore off.
Just about the same time, I had to pee, in a serious way. I made my way slowly to the bathroom, wheeling my IV with me, shaking off the last of the benadryl high as I walked. And pee I did. Complete success. Not ten minutes after I'm back in my chair (a comfy recliner, of the sort one might watch football from, if so inclined), I have to go again, just as urgently. This seems ridiculous to me, but the nurse tells me it's normal. I'd had lots of fluids going in from the IV, and I'd had both water and juice while I'd been sitting there. I go to the bathroom twice more before I'm done. All within an hour.

The last thing they do, before I'm released, is give me a shot of Neulasta, which helps keep my white blood cell count up where it should be. She tells me I can have this in my arm or my belly, my choice, but adds that the belly would be her choice, as it's less painful that way. I take her advice. Probably a good decision, as I don't even notice anything where she stuck me, and I'm sure my arm would be sore by now, like it is after a flu shot, had she stuck me there.

I feel terrific, actually, as we're leaving. That's partly due to the steroids, given to help the body accept all the other stuff and give it time to work before my body can reject it. I will take more steroids tomorrow, so I'll probably feel pretty good tomorrow, too. But they tell me the fatigue should hit me the second day. Fatigue is the one side-effect they can't control or help with drugs.
Well, that, and the possible hair loss. Which should start sometime after the second week. I'll be looking at wigs soon, and scarves, hats, other sorts of things to help hide the hair loss until I'm done with chemo. They tell me it'll grow back within 2 to 3 months after the chemo is done.
I plan to try on lots of styles and colors of wigs. This is my chance to try being a blond or redhead, without having to ruin my natural hair. I may not look good in any other hair color, but I can try anything I like, since I don't have to live with it permanently. Also, I see myself as more of a scarf person than a hat person. I like the drama of a nice silky scarf.

Back to today. I decide I'll go out to dinner and do some shopping with my SIL, while I feel good. I was starting to feel some cramping, just before we ate, but that could have been due more to my period than the chemo. Did I mention that showed up last night? Regular as clockwork, I am. For now. Chemo will change that. Possibly permanently. But I'll get back to that later. I felt much better after we ate, so we went shopping, too. I found a fabulous scarf, and more of my favorite lotion - worth the time and effort.

I'm tired now, but it's a normal tired. From where I'm sitting, chemo isn't all that bad.

why chemo?

Some of you may be wondering, if the surgery got everything, and the margins and lymph nodes were clear, then why do I need chemo?

Partly, it has to do with the grade of cancer - three on a scale of one to three, three being the worst. These cancer cells are/were as far as you can get from normal. Second, the tumor was invasive - it had broken out of the ductal walls, and crossed breast tissue to invade other ducts, which means that some of these cells also made it out into my bloodstream. Not necessarily in a way that could be detected in a blood sample, but the science says they're out there, in my body, thinking about settling in somewhere else. So we've got to kill them off before that can happen.

The info gathered in what is called the cancer bank (into which all my cancer-related data has gone, and will continue to go, as they will track my progress and health for the rest of my life), tells us that, if I elected to stop treatment after surgery, I would have a 32% chance of getting cancer again. Not over-fond of those odds, myself. If I do the chemo treatments, followed by radiation, the chance decreases to about 12%, or less, which is similar to the odds for the average woman who has not had breast cancer.

That, I can live with.

For the next few months, I'll be having six treatments, which last about 3hrs each, with the treatments three weeks apart. So I'll be done mid-May with chemo, after which I'll go on to radiation, which will further reduce any chance of local recurrence. And somewhere in there, I also get to start a regime of anti-hormone therapy which will last 5 yrs, since my tumor was fed by hormones.

So that's it, in a nutshell. Having chemo, and the rest of the treatments, means I can beat this, permanently. Or at least as permanently as possible.