Hair's Looking At You!

It is the new year and I am thrilled to finally have hair again! For months, I was a complete skin-head. Then for the next couple of months, I had fuzz. Finally, I looked like a Marine. A Marine with an enviable Brazilian wax job. It was an odd combo, no two ways about it. Now, I can finally put product in my hair and almost style it! I do not wish to sound ungrateful in any way, shape or form for the fabulous hair explosion, however, having said that - let's just put the brakes on here a little bit. Now I have to call my insurance company to see if it will cover some hair removal costs. You heard me right. Before I start my new circus career as the bearded lady, I need to see what can be done. Is this a test? Is God giggling right now? Perhaps it is His little kick in the kiester to get me writing again. Well . . . it worked didn't it?

I have had trouble writing for the last few months. Cancer is a thief. A thief of so many things. A thief of time, identity, my brain, my ability to focus on anything other than myself. I have simply not been fully present for my family or my friends or so many things that used to hold such importance for me. I can't get away from it. It's not that I didn't know logically that cancer was all around me - but now I see it everywhere I go. It's as if I bought the "Cancer car". Now, I see them everywhere. Every other person is driving one. The tricky part is that none of us knows which custom package we purchased. Did we buy the extended warranty? Am I a Volvo with hundreds of thousands of good miles left on me, or am I a Pinto . . . just waiting for that next rear-ender to cause an explosion? Apparently I didn't get air conditioning in my model. Those hot flashes sure are super, good fun though. Also, they give you a nice rosy glow! When I am in the midst of one, I feel a bit like a praying mantis. I might just bite the head off of the next person who has the misfortune of speaking to me. On the bright side, my kids reflexes have gotten really fast. They are all crazy, wicked good at dodge ball now.

I used to wonder, as a parent, if any of my constant nagging and pushing was getting through to my children. Now that I haven't had the energy to be a truly effective nagger, I see that some of it did work. On the up side, they have all been forced to grow up a little, and become a bit more self sufficient. On the down side, their grades reflect my lack of interest. I feel badly about that, however, I try not to beat myself up about it too much. They will all be fine ultimately, with or without my nagging. (and perhaps with some years of therapy)

My surgery was almost nine weeks ago now. Everything went well. They were able to do reconstructive surgery at the same time and I must say that I am pleased with the results. I am in physical therapy now, and there is steady improvement in my mobility. Once I can get my left arm up over my head and hold it in that position, we will start the next phase. Radiation. I haven't really even focused on it yet. My surgeon says that I have done all the hard parts. She says that radiation is a cake-walk after chemo and surgery. That's good. I could use some cake. Is there such a thing as a "pie-walk"? I like pie even better. You know what I really like . . . biscuits and gravy. When I finish radiation, I think I'll have a piece of cake AND a piece of pie AAAAANNNND, smother it all in gravy! I'll just have to be careful to keep it out of my beard.