VBS Was This Week

This week has been VBS at church.  It has been odd to have to not be involved, but I just am not up to it.  I have been going down for the closing portion of the morning just to see who all is there and get a sense of how things are going.

I really have not been feeling as perky as usual, this being the week after chemo.  I really can’t take deep breaths without coughing, and so I have to be careful about how quickly I move from here to there so that I do not have to “catch my breath.”  When I have to do that, I have to take a deeper breath than normal, and I get coughing, which makes me have to take deep breaths, which makes me still cough . . .  I have to work at not letting the coughing trigger my having to take deep breaths.  

I must admit that I am getting weary of all of this.  I am seven months into all of this, from my initial appointment to the mammogram to the ultrasound to the MRI.  Then came the meeting with the surgeon, two biopsies, diagnosis of cancer (two types), the glitch of the infested cyst on my back, the surgery, the pathology report results, putting in the port, and now chemo.

I just want to be done.  I remind myself that this is how is it – just deal with it!  I realize that the end will happen.  Two more chemo Mondays and that is done.

I remain thankful that God has kept me from having too difficult of a time with the chemo. 

A Song in My Mind

About a month more of chemo . . .

This song I hear from time to time on the radio.  The second verse and the chorus especially speak to me:

"He loves to hear our praise

On our cheerful days

When the pleasant times out weigh the bad, by far;

But when suffering comes along,

And we still sing His song,

That is when we bless the Father's heart.

"God wants to hear you sing

When the waves are crashing round you,

When the firey darts surround you,

When despair is all you see.

God wants to hear your voice

When the wisest man has spoken

And says your circumstance is as hopeless as can be:

That's when God wants to hear you sing!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What is my heart's response as I am engaged in this cancer battle?  Do I feel sorry for myself?  Do I ask "Why me?"  Am I unhappy with God for allowing this in my life?  Can I still exhibit joy in spite of my current circumstances?  Some things to think about, for sure.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=mKnh4LeNOww 

Today Is My Birthday

Today is my birthday.  Usually this is not a big deal because I am not at any significant age:

• I am way past being old enough to drive.
• I am way past being old enough to vote.
• I am way past being old enough to be considered a mature adult -- at least most of the time.
• I have passed the age where I can initially join AARP.
• I have reached the first two levels of qualifying for senior discounts (50, 55)

But, this year I have learned that when a person has cancer, celebrating every birthday is a big deal.  The American Cancer society calls itself the "Official Sponsor of Birthdays."  This may explain why, when I returned to the oncologist's office for the blood draw today, I got a big hug from Nergiz.

I have learned that I need to think of my birthday a little differently now.  It's not the age I am; it's the fact that I am here to celebrate it once more.

Weekend of April 27

A last-minute possibility, traveling to Ohio for the weekend.  I just had my second chemo infusion; and I was thinking that if things went as well as after the first one, Dennis and I could join all of my siblings (rare occurrence) and their spouses in celebrating our parents' 60th wedding anniversary.  This all was planned in a relatively short time by my sister-in-law:  a luncheon in the activity room at Summit Point and invite some of Dad and Mom's special Ohio friends to join us; have a photographer come to take some good pictures of us, since we are not all together very often.

My hair had begun to fall out, enough that I decided the day before we were leaving that I would have my friend Becky give me a buzz cut.  If we were going to Ohio, I preferred to be messing with bristles rather than with "fleeing" hair.  I had been shedding and I did not want it on other people's furniture or bed or in the sink or shower. 

Since my brothers and sisters live a good distance from me, it is difficult for them to feel they are a part of my support.  So, the idea was that all of us who were going to be in Ohio would plan to have with them hats or wigs to wear for a picture or so. 

Here is the result:

Another picture from the weekend:

The Hair Is Fleeing

So, what is it like to know that you are indeed losing your hair because of chemo?  Weird.  I suspected this was starting to happen to me Sunday.  My scalp itched more than usual.  I had tingles in my scalp, odd tingles.  On occasion there would be a hair on the loose – more often than usual.  Add to that the hair I was starting to find on my shower soap.

Monday my suspicions were confirmed.  If I ran my hands through my hair, I would end up with a few in my fingers.  If I lightly tugged, I got a few more.  If I ran a large-toothed comb through my hair, I got a few.  So, when I showered, I decided not to rub my hair – just get it wet.  Then I would not rub it dry, just pat it.  In the shower, I did tug a little bit on my hair . . . a little more came in the tug. 

I was right – I was losing my hair.

I have spent the past few days dealing with more and more shedding.  It reminds me of a dog shedding hair, as it seems to get on everything:  back of the chair, my shirts, bathroom sink, etc.  I sometimes go out on the deck just to fluff my hair.  At night I wear a cap to help keep my sleep area free from falling hair.

We are to go to Ohio this weekend, and I know that I do not want to be messing with this.  So, I am at a crossroads – when do I go for the buzz cut and switch to hats and a wig?  That’s easier said than done.

Yesterday I called my friend Becky, my support and advisor in these matters, as she had helped out my pal Val.  I told her my dilemma and where I am in all of this.  She understands my situation somewhat, as a result.  We decided that probably today will be the day – not sure when I will give her the call; but this is probably the day.

This has been a dreaded moment.  I had hopes I would be that odd statistic and not lose my hair.  To me, losing my hair makes it more apparent to everyone -- including people I do not know -- that I have cancer.  I am not comfortable with that.  I would prefer to keep that limited to my family and friends.

At least I have come to the point where I realize that I just have to deal with this.  I will.

Settling In on the Routine

Here it is, Friday.  Today I return to the oncologist’s office to give them blood to be sure we are good to go.  I can’t say that I am excited about this – who would be excited about having a blood draw?  What is disconcerting to me is that this has to be commonplace.  Eight infusions – eight blood draws.  That does not count needles for chemo nor for shots nor for additional blood draws that may be required.  UGH!

There are times when I wish that this was all over with.  Notice, I am not complaining about having to go through this – I just am tired of it.  BUT, there are others who have far worse situations than I do that will go on far longer than my situation will. 

As I tell myself at moments like this, "Just deal with it!"

--------------------------------

What makes it hard is the unknown – when will my hair fall out?  Can I return to work?

Question

Does a person lose her nose hairs, 

as well as her eyebrows and eye lashes, 

when she loses her hair because of chemo?

WEIRD THOUGHT

(The answer is YES.)