Monday, February 14, 2011
Zen and the Art of Hair Maintenance
I didn't believe it would happen. Perhaps I would be the exception to the rule. Each night I gave my shortened locks a tug. Tug, tug, tug - everything secure and battened done. Then last week suddenly things went loose. Little tufts in my hand with each pull. Eeeks...no going back now. Calm, calm, calm and hilarious when you think of it. Little sprigs pulled out to display for frightened friends. They looked like dog hair scattering everywhere. Think of a dry Christmas tree - needles falling at the slightest touch. My daughter Katie wrapped a scarf around my head, sprayed gel and said "don't touch it". The temptation was great. ARGGGGHHH...by Friday it was insane. Homeward bound from Salt Lake I couldn't wait to brush it out and into the trash. Handfuls with each sweep. Saturday Scott turned my "male patterned baldness" into a smooth globe. Ahhhh...zen ness returned. I am surprised everytime I pass the mirror. Today at work though there was no need to hide the cue ball. The hat was tossed aside when it got too hot. Or to shock. Or to amaze. Or to relax. A bald noggin is a curiosity. A bald head is, without doubt, a very, very bold fashion statement. A bald head does not go gently into the night. The cue ball is the best display site for new earrings, old earrings, or any earrings at all. Who doesn't wonder what their head looks like under all that fur. Well, now I know. I rest in peace.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Throwing the "C" card has it's moments
My daughters told me to start a blog about my adventures with lymphoma...and yet I am still coming to terms with the fact that this adventure is already underway and tumbling down the road at a rate out of my control. Control...now that's the "other" c word that I will return to later (or not.) So here's some of the beginning mixed with splashes of stories that have already happened.
January 18 I got the news that I have lymphoma. The poor colon doc delivered the news in about three minutes - very, very rare to see it in the colon, it was everywhere, I will call the oncologiest right away. He was out the door and making the call. 6 days later the oncologist confirmed that my new found friend Ms. Lym Phoma has been hanging around for at least 3 years, maybe 5...wow...and that Ms. Phoma has spread her wings everywhere in my body. Double wow. Maybe it was someone else's report?? A bone marrow sample put that thought out of range.
So here are some things that I've learned already:
1. Bringing up the "c" word scares the dickens out of everyone but me. I'm the one carrying around the Phoma family and I don't worry about what it is or what it's doing - it's already doing what it does. Everyone else that knows me is scared and sad and shocked. I like to make fun of it and laugh about it and realize ridiculous things about it...and yet it's all fun and games till someone gets hurt. Chemo is the lymphoma scrubblng agent that takes away a lot of the gags...but there is more to be learned about that in the near future. (I did tell the nurse that if she hooked me up to the one drug that I reacted to badly again I would pinch her...hard. She made the other nurse turn it on the next time.)
2. Throwing the "c" card has it's advantages...but it won't last forever...thank heavens. I have a lot of people who love me and I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of support. It's hard to reconcile the feelings of being the "queen" and having lymphoma. I can't put all the emotions together. I can't begin to put my heart around the amount of everything being put my way. All I can say is that I am one lucky, lucky person.
3. I don't wonder why me, I don't worry about what's next. Maybe for the first full real time ever I may be living in the moment. Truly. And I think it might be a beautiful thing.
Hugs,
Mary
January 18 I got the news that I have lymphoma. The poor colon doc delivered the news in about three minutes - very, very rare to see it in the colon, it was everywhere, I will call the oncologiest right away. He was out the door and making the call. 6 days later the oncologist confirmed that my new found friend Ms. Lym Phoma has been hanging around for at least 3 years, maybe 5...wow...and that Ms. Phoma has spread her wings everywhere in my body. Double wow. Maybe it was someone else's report?? A bone marrow sample put that thought out of range.
So here are some things that I've learned already:
1. Bringing up the "c" word scares the dickens out of everyone but me. I'm the one carrying around the Phoma family and I don't worry about what it is or what it's doing - it's already doing what it does. Everyone else that knows me is scared and sad and shocked. I like to make fun of it and laugh about it and realize ridiculous things about it...and yet it's all fun and games till someone gets hurt. Chemo is the lymphoma scrubblng agent that takes away a lot of the gags...but there is more to be learned about that in the near future. (I did tell the nurse that if she hooked me up to the one drug that I reacted to badly again I would pinch her...hard. She made the other nurse turn it on the next time.)
2. Throwing the "c" card has it's advantages...but it won't last forever...thank heavens. I have a lot of people who love me and I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of support. It's hard to reconcile the feelings of being the "queen" and having lymphoma. I can't put all the emotions together. I can't begin to put my heart around the amount of everything being put my way. All I can say is that I am one lucky, lucky person.
3. I don't wonder why me, I don't worry about what's next. Maybe for the first full real time ever I may be living in the moment. Truly. And I think it might be a beautiful thing.
Hugs,
Mary
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