I felt fantastic the last four days – it was a natural high the likes of which I had never known (in a natural state, that is). Last night Bill and I went to dinner with Stacy and Kelly, and we had so much fun. Then I went to the bathroom. After I washed my hands, I reached up to pat down my staticky hair, and a (to me, very) large cluster of hair remained on my hand after I took it away.
Even though I had been losing hairs the last three days, I wasn’t worried. I lose a lot of hair on a daily basis anyway. This didn’t seem excessive. But this stalk o’ locks told me otherwise.
Then, of course, I was ready to GO, which was great, timing-wise, because they were about to close. I was sure the whole mess of hair was going to slide right off my head any minute, and I wanted as few people as possible to know what my head looked like, at least until I knew what it looked like.
We drove home and debated, but Bill’s cool logic prevailed, and so we had one of those romantic evenings many couples only dream of, in which he buzzed my hair totally off and made jokes and I laughed. Then Hunter decided he was next, though he didn’t want to go quite as extreme as I did. I understood this, as I didn’t want to go quite as extreme as I did either.
So now I know what my head looks like. It’s not too bad. No lumps, no bumps, and no disturbing discoloration. My ears look bigger, obviously. And I look a lot shorter, which makes no sense, because I had some of the flattest hair known to man.
Second chemo today, and Bill had to almost physically force me into the car. I kept remembering all the things I needed to do (oh, my vitamins! oh, my purse! oh, which hat shall I wear on my freakin’ bald head?). You know, the basics. But we did get there, and they hooked me up, only to make me move because Dr. Reed wanted to see me but didn’t feel like going to the chemo room. They explained it away by saying she wanted to examine me. Well, she could have had me breathe with her stethoscope in the chemo room just as well, but whatever. I had a bone to pick with that woman, anyway.
I hate confrontation, so I jumped in as soon as she entered the room.
“You and I agreed on six chemotherapy sessions of Adriamycin and Cytoxan. Last time I was here, the chemo nurses told me I was down for eight – four of Adriamycin/Cytoxan and four of Taxol. Why is that?”
“Well, you delayed your treatment to freeze eggs, so that made it necessary to change the protocol.”
This made me angry.
“YOU were the one who told me I could do that. You said it was built into your plan, the same plan we went over here during my second appointment with you. AND I also came in three weeks ahead of your deadline.”
“Yes, but it’s necessary now due to your delay.”
“OK, then how about the fact that you didn’t TELL ME? EVER? I had to hear it from a chemo nurse I had never met before!”
“Well, the Taxol isn’t as bad.”
“Well, I’m doing six sessions.”
All in all, right now I don’t feel too bad. I have another wig now, and the woman at Riddles on 20th in Joplin is so amazing. Her wigs are all half price for chemo patients, and she taught me a lot about the wearing of wigs. I had mine on about 60% cockeyed every time. She was very patient.
I’m so grateful for Bill. He has done so much for me. We have chickens now, so I can have hormone-free meat. He bought me the wig. He has cooked and cleaned relentlessly. He told me I was so cute with a bald head. He took me to dinner so I could see Stacy last night, someone I haven’t seen in I have no idea how many years. He set it up himself.
I love him. I’m glad he’s here.
And what would I do without my amazing kid and his shaved head?
Thank you for your support, guys. It helps the dark days stay several shades lighter than black.
No comments:
Post a Comment