Round 2, Day 4

It is Friday morning, and I am sorry I haven't updated sooner.  It has been a long, exhausting and eventful week.  The second round of chemo went fine.  My friend Johanna took me, and really, it was pretty uneventful, for which I am thankful.  We started off with the oncologist, and blood work.  I have a prescription for Lidocaine cream, so before carpool I put a blob of it over the port, covered it with plastic wrap and let it soak in to numb that area.  I only felt a small prick when they hooked me up to the IV tubes for the blood and infusions.  I got the go ahead, but then when I later received my blood work report, I see that a few things are "off" but I am assuming not enough to be a big deal.  I need to follow up and make sure, I guess. 

Chris had meetings that morning, but he was able to come by and spend some time with us while the infusion was happening.  I remembered to bring the things I noted the first time, so I was more comfortable....blanket, cozy socks, back pillow mainly.  Much better.  After we had a bite to eat I couldn't hold my eyes open and fell asleep before everything was finished.  That was fine with me.

Happy to have my cozy blanket.  This was a perfect gift from my TX girlfriends back in the Winter when Shingles were my biggest problem. 

Wow - I am pale.  Can't wait to see how I look this Winter (yes, that was sarcasm.)

Mainly, I have been exhausted.  I have been sleeping after the kids come home from school (which I hate, but I just can't hold my eyes open), but it has been okay.  Jonathan brings his homework into my room and he is "with" me even though I am asleep.  Then people have been bringing food, which is a tremendous help and a huge blessing.  I have been sleeping though dinner, but then after they finish Chris has been making a little plate for me and then I seem to wake up a bit and eat, then spend some time with the kids.  Using a smaller plate has been a good idea.  I have learned to eat more often, but small amounts.  Some days it feels like I am constantly munching...i keep saltines or at least something on my nightstand.  It really helps to push away any queasiness.  Another reminder of pregnancy.  Anyway - nausea has been more than manageable so far.  Thankful for that.  Of course, we are still in the "good days." (Days 1-4).

On Wednesday night I felt that I needed to make the "final" decision about my hair appointment scheduled for yesterday, Thursday.  Since Monday my hair had been coming out, very steadily.  It was problematic in the sense that I was constantly picking it off my clothes and it was tickling my arms.  On top of that, I couldn't really "fix" it, so it wasn't looking good anyway.  Since chemo started I hadn't used the hair dryer (that I love!), so my hair was looking nappy at best.  After showering I was trying to comb it out as gently as I could, but it was a mess.  So much hair was coming out.  It was crazy the amount of hair that came out and yet how much remained.  Never underestimate how much hair is growing on your head!  Needless to say, I went round and round on Wednesday night (poor Chris, bless him), crying and rationalizing, and finally decided to stick with the plan.  That is my general mantra, anyway.  Just stick with the plan and move forward.   Decision made.

So, yesterday Chris and I went back to visit our good friends who unfortunately were admitted to Emory this week with a brain tumor.  My heart goes out to them, and it sounds selfish to say it, but it sort of helped me to focus on them instead of me, through prayer and just through research, time, etc.  They are praying for a miracle and I am praying that with them, too.  Chris took me straight from Emory to Piedmont and I met my friends there again, and it was go time.  I remained decided, and though everyone offered me opportunities to change my mind, I stuck with my guns.  I sat in the beauty salon style chair, had my back to the mirror, and a lap full of tissues, and just cried my way through the beginning.   My friends cried along, but overall the atmosphere changed pretty quickly from deep to lighter.  We managed to talk about a gamut of things as I tried not to notice all of the hair falling to the floor.  My friends commented along about what era I looked like.  Jennifer, the awesome hair lady who I just like more and more the more time I spend with her, went in phases and took a few inches at a time (I think).  Apparently I went from current, to 1970s to Pat Benatar (80s) and ended up with Sinead O'Connor.  I didn't watch any of it.  Never saw it, and didn't want to.  That was her recommendation and I think that was smart.  No reason to torture myself.  I could see enough in my friends' eyes.  They were very strong for me.  I know it wasn't an easy thing to watch.  

Good friends

At one point there was a fire drill at Piedmont...lights started flashing, etc.... and I about freaked out, but at least it was just a drill and we didn't have to exit with half my hair cut off.  I welcomed the distraction.  Finally she was finished.  They scissor cut it (versus shave) to avoid any ingrown hair problem, infection, cut, etc.  There is maybe 1/4 to 1/2 inch of hair left.  It will still fall out on its own, but will not be all over the place like my long hair.  The next decision point was whether I wanted to turn around a look in the mirror.  I touched it first, and that was all I could handle.  It felt (still feels) so weird, and I panicked a little and just said no.  I had it reasonably together at that point and didn't need to go through that drama.  I was starting to not feel so good anyway, and was ready to be done.  So, she put the wig on me and we worked with it a little.  Then she really wanted me to practice with it at least once, but since I didn't want to look in the mirror that was a little challenging, but I felt my way through it and manged to get it on and adjusted the right way.  The wig definitely feels better on without all of my hair stuffed under it.     

Finally it was time to go and I really wasn't feeling well.  When we stepped out in the heat, and with the walking around, I just felt terrible....dizzy, nauseated.  Sitting down in the A/C helped and we made it home.  I managed to drive carpool and I felt like there was a spotlight on me saying "look at the wig!"  I know that is irrational, and immature, and silly, and I will get over it.  But, that is how I felt at the moment.  I am telling myself that it doesn't matter if it looks like a wig, because it IS a wig.  It beats the alternative...for me.  I am not ready to walk around bald or with a scarf.  That is not my comfort zone.  (Well, none of this is comfortable, but I only have control over "so" much.) Immediately the kids were not happy with the wig.  It was the very first thing they said when getting in the car. But then again, they usually don't take to any change very quickly.  They haven't typically embraced my mild forays into color/highlight experimentation, or small style changes.  But, we had a good talk, with me telling them it's okay to not like it.  I don't really like it much either.  But I think it will grow on us and we should remember that it is serving a purpose and that is all. 

Oh....we named the wig.  Actually, Jennifer, the hair lady, kept referring to the wig on Monday as a person and "she", etc.  So my friends and I decided to name my wig, but we couldn't come up with anything that really spoke to me.  I even had Caroline "on it" earlier in the week, and we tried to morph some names together, then we tried names like "Hope" "Grace" "Faith" but nothing was really working and I had almost dismissed the idea, until Jennifer referred to the wig as R2.  I loved it.  It said Star Wars to me, and it was simple.  For anyone who doesn't know, our family loves Star Wars (we all dressed as characters last Halloween), and so this was a nice, lighthearted connection and it let me "bond" with the wig a little (yes, I know I sound like a loon), but from a practical view, it's nice to call the wig by a name instead of continuously referring to "the wig." 

I missed "Meet the Teacher Night" last night but Chris was there and soaked it all in.  It was all I could do to sit in the car for the kids' soccer practice, with the A/C blowing on me for an hour.  I think both kiddos realized I needed full cooperation last night, so they were troopers and quickly took showers and got themselves ready for bed without me hanging around and checking in.  I immediately laid back down, and finally right before bed they wanted to see what my real hair looked like.  I had already taken a peak before going to soccer, because I quickly learned that R2 puts considerable pressure on my head.  That is going to take some getting used to.  Ouch.  Not really comfortable past the hour mark.  By the time I ripped the wig off and decided to NOT avert my eyes, I was already pretty numb, emotionally.  So, it was really anti-climactic.   I just looked at it and felt really detached.  It was not pretty, and very strange and so foreign.  I quickly threw on the comfy turquoise stocking cap I had purchased, and I felt much better.  No tears.  But, when I took it off for the kids it was a little different.  Jonathan just looked shocked, but that was it.  Caroline's face immediately crumbled and there were lots of tears, but we got through it.  I reassured her that it is okay to feel confused and sad, and we don't have to like this.  It is okay to have a bad day, but that we need to stay focused on the end game here.  Beating cancer.  This is part of the process, and the hair will grow back, and we cannot make it a bigger deal than it needs to be.  I assured her that it would be better in the morning, and it was. 

Still not loving it, but it is a different style than what I am used to.  Working on "taming" the layers a bit.  To me it screams "wig" but....I like the color.  Trying to be positive.

Different angle. 

Checking out the back view.  From this view it looks a little more tame and natural, I think.