Anyway - I'm writing now. It's a chilly, rainy day in Lake Forest. I'm at the public library because my new computer hasn't been working properly. P.J. plans to return it tomorrow and talk computer talk directly with the sales people and get me something else. He shouldn't have sent me on my own to buy a computer since I really don't have a good idea of how they work, etc. Our 8-year-old daughter seems to know more than I do about computers. Scary.
Back to writing ... I'm just getting warmed up. I promised before I had some observations to share. I've been writing them in a pretty notebook my friend Angela gave me (the old pen and paper technology never fails!). Here goes:
- Since I began chemotherapy, I've been waiting to lose all my hair. I've been dreading it and trying to deal with my feelings about it. It seriously began happening after my second round of chemo - approx. 30 days from my first round of chemo. I thought I was ready. I had already cut 10 inches off my hair and given it to Locks of Love. My dear book club friends brought photos of their worst haircuts to my salon and had them waiting at my stylist's station with some sweet treats. That went well. Then I started collecting hats and scarves. Maureen went shopping with me and we laughed so hard we were in tears - especially when she tried on a "do rag" that was already sewn with elastic to slip onto your head. That went well, too. Then my friend Susanne brought me a beautiful wig made of human hair, lovingly highlighted and very similar to mine. It was Mary Kay's custom wig that she only wore once during her battle with breast cancer. I have not brought myself to ever try it on. It did look good on Susanne, though. One night at dinner at Mary Ellen's, she asked if she pulled my hair, would a handful come out. I gave in and let her try and it didn't come out. Then the next day came and I actually lost major handfuls of hair, the tears finally came, too. I saved my hair from going down the shower drain and kept collecting it for days. Once it is no longer on your head, it doesn't feel like real hair. P.J. and Georgia thought my hair collection was disgusting so I finally tossed it when I realized how silly it was to keep. I haven't cried about my hair since then. Even though I now wear scarves and hats, I almost always show my friends and family my real head underneath. My doctors and nurses are astonished that I even have the hair that's left. I think it's just the prenatal vitamins at work.
- When your hair goes, why do the grays stubbornly hang on? How unfair is that?!?
- One of my morning rituals is to inspect my pillow for lost hair and to use a sticky lent roller to clean it up.
- Also on the subject of my hair, I was embarrassed on July 15 when at the intersection in front of Miramar in Highwood when my hat blew off. Cars were stopped at all four places and I had to chase my hat in front of all those drivers. Who knows what they were thinking - big pregnant lady with crazy thinning hair scrambling around amongst the cars. Lovely.
- When I have chemo or my weekly blood draws, I almost always see the beige lady. Consistently, I am the youngest patient at my oncologist's office and most are in their 60's-80's. There is one patient, who my heart goes out to, who is colorless ... her skin is transluscent, she is bald, eyelashless and eyebrowless, extremely thin and always wears beige clothes, shoes and ball cap that even washes her out more. We are never close enough to speak and the scene in the chemo room is of about 18 chairs with a nurses station in the middle. The patients interact with the staff but generally not with each other. Everyone keeps to themself during their treatments and is respectful of each other as many recline in the chairs and cover up with blankets. Of course, I can't do that. I have to much to on my "to do list" so I try to bring a mini project to complete, like a photo album or notes to write. The poor beige lady is an extreme case of the type of patients there - but she makes me feel sad. I want to give her a hot pink top to wear and some coral lipstick to brighten her up. I think she feels as badly on the inside as she appears to feel on the outside. Bless her heart.
- I keep waiting to feel as bad as the beige lady or as others who have been through this before. I don't. Naturally, I have my moments of pure exhaustion - I am afterall 27 weeks pregnant. Overall, I feel great! I am the happiest I have been in a years! I have a new lease on life and my prognosis is promising. I am one of the lucky ones and I thank God every day for that.
- The other day, I looked at my chart at Maternal Fetal Medicine. The summary of my condition (other than being pregnant) was "elderly with breast cancer." What?! Since when was 40 considered elderly?!? You would have thought I was that sixty-something year-old woman who had IVF and carried twins. Right. Elderly. How about classifying me as "35+" or something less insulting?
- Last Friday, the Beaupre's brought dinner over while they were visiting from Atlanta. About an hour into their visit and long after P.J. had given them the tour of our remodeled house, I mentioned something about the baby coming in October. April and Paul were shocked. They had no idea I was pregnant even though I'm clearly showing and had seen the baby's room filled with the crib and all kinds of baby things. They were so polite not to say anything about my appearance and just thought I was bloated from the treatments. I loved being able to share with them our good news in person.
I ran into my wonderful oncologist and his wife at the Lake Forest Day carnival on Family Night (Tuesday). There were thousands of people there and the crowds were so dense. It was fun to see him outside the office - usually P.J. runs into him out and about. Anyway - Dr. Tsarwhas immediately told me I needed to go home. I obeyed and happily left Georgia under P.J.'s watchful eye. The next day, I took Georgia and friend Kirsten to the LF Day Parade to ride on the Lake Forest Country Day School float and ended up walking with them the entire parade route. Not my plan, it just happened. The last thing I thought I wanted to do was parade through downtown - but I did and it was fine. We spent the afternoon at the carnival with many school friends and moms. It was such joy to watch the children run around having the time of their lives!
Tomorrow, Georgia's favorite 2nd grade teachers, Ms. Huetteman and Ms. Holland, are joining us for a special lunch at GoGo's house. To say that Georgia is excited is an understatement. These teachers have been very special to our family, even more so since all this cancer stuff began. We are grateful for their continued friendship and support.
I think the rain has stopped now, so I'm going to head home. It was actually fun writing today. Thanks for being patient with my ramblings. I will try to write more often. Until next time, take good care!
Love,
Jana
No comments:
Post a Comment