Random 4

When I lose my eyebrows and eyelashes, what's gonna happen to these little guys? Do they tunnel into the skin and hibernate? Do they live on my pillow for a while? Are they going to become extinct? Oh no!

Gotta find a home for the mighty mites!

Random 3

This has got to be the longest two months of my life.  I swear my diagnosis had to have happened at least 5 months ago.  This past three weeks feels more like two months.  Are the next 6 months going to drag on like this as well?

Those Old Wives Need to Shut Up

When I was first having my testing done, before I was diagnosed, I kept running into something along the lines of, "Cancer doesn't hurt, it's the silent killer. If it hurts, it's a cyst."

Let me tell you right now, that's bullshit.

The old wives who came up with that tall tale obviously never had cancer.

Oh, it's not agonizing pain.  Not even a 3 on the pain scale, but those little bastard tumors in there like to give me a little jolt from time to time just to remind me that they're still in there.  Oh, and the pain might go up to a constant dull ache of a 4 or 5 after they've been touched - like every time someone would give me an exam or after mammograms.  And the "suspicious nipple" (my doctor's term - she thinks it might be involved in this whole business) likes to remind me it's there and suspicious as well.

Now if you don't mind me, I'm going to go outside with a wet head so I can catch a cold while making a silly face so it will stick that way, all the while cracking my knuckles which will eventually lead to arthritis.

Wiggin' Out

Because I'm lazy in the mornings, I chose to wear my wig to work today.  

I am not a fan of the wig.

Oh, it's a good wig, I suppose, don't get me wrong.  The people matched my hair color perfectly and the style was pretty close to my own...well, except for the bangs which I haven't had since high school.  "When did you get your hair cut?" my General Manager asked. "Oh, Saturday," I replied.  (What? It's true, isn't it?) People who don't know it's a wig tell me they like my haircut.  The ones who do know it's a wig tell me it looks very natural and flattering and it's just so cute!   

No.  Just. no.

It's fake.  All I can see when I look in the mirror is how fake it looks on me.  I know it's mostly in my head, but isn't my head the one that matters here?  When I put on my sunglasses this morning, I looked in the mirror and all I could see was a female comedy character in a really bad disguise.  Oh - make that a comedic spy movie because I was wearing a trench coat too.

I don't mind the thought of wearing wigs for fun through this whole thing.  I'd like to get some cool-colored ones to wear from time to time - dark red and teal maybe.  I'd never be able to color my hair those colors, so this is the only way I can ever get away with it.  But trying to hide the fact that I'm bald now seems so silly.  Amazing what a couple of days getting comfortable with my head can make.

I brought a hat with me (thanks to Chris' suggestion) and as soon as I'm in my car, I'm trading out.  I have to go to the store first and I don't care.  Tomorrow I'll be wearing one of my scarves to work, I guess.  I'm sure that parading my buzz cut around here uncovered doesn't fit into the "Hair must be styled conservatively" sentence in our employee handbook.  If the powers that be have an issue with me donning a scarf or a hat here instead of trying to make them feel more comfortable with the disease that I have, they're going to have a fight on their hands.

This wig will come in handy on those occasions when I do want to blend in for my family's benefit - school functions and the like - but this is not going to be an every day thing.  It's not me.  The people at work consider me "earthy" and "Bohemian" for thinking that way.  Uhhhh....huh....  

Well, I guess "earthy" would be the opposite of "synthetic".

Everything IS Awesome!

I really don't think people are grasping the fact that I really am okay.  I'm not just being strong or brave or pretending things are fine just to make everyone feel better.  Am I supposed to be miserable?  I don't get it.

Sure, I've had a few moments of discomfort.  I had all of my gums completely swollen one morning and I couldn't really eat for the beginning of the day, but with Advil and time, the pain went away.  No biggie.  I had to modify my diet for a few days, but it's getting better and soon I'll be back to normal.

Yes, I've had to shave my head, but it beats trying to keep things "normal" when every time I run my fingers through my hair an increasing number of strands come out with them.  Hair will grow back.

I've been cold - I throw on a blanket.  My mouth gets dry - I drink more water or suck on a hard candy. I get tired, I get my butt up and move.  My eyes water or my nose runs - it's still not as bad as seasonal allergies.  Small problems, simple solutions.

I haven't been in pain, I haven't been sick.  Yes, that could all change with my next treatment, but it might stay exactly the same as well.  Am I supposed to live in fear?  I think not.

People, I'm fine!  Really!

12 Hours A Baldy

The hair is gone.  Thank goodness.  Seriously, I was shedding so badly that it was ridiculous.  I'd much rather have no hair than be leaving it everywhere I go.  And, I don't look too bad without it.

So here's how things went down:

Kidding!!

After we had a day full of fun - shopping, lunch, movie, I decided it needed to be done.  Chris and I pulled up a chair in the bathroom, got out the clippers, took a deep breath and commenced shearing.  I knew I might have a bit of a problem if he started with one big swipe down the top of my head, so I had him start on the side.  That way a bit of skin showed through and gradually got bigger.  It was actually kind of funny as I became more and more punk.  There was one point where I wanted to leave it because it looked like an Egyptian prince's lock, but even the hair in that little bit wanted to fall out on its own, so it had to go.

When it was all gone, it really didn't look too bad.  I was afraid I'd have some bumpy skull or something, but it seems to be pretty okay-shaped.  Xander popped his head in from time to time to see how things were going and he was pretty uncomfortable with it at first, but as the night went on he grew somewhat used to it.

Here are my observations from my first 12 hours sans hair:

• It's cold!  Good lord, it's so great that this had to happen right before another cold snap hits.  I've been cold enough as it is, but now I have no fur on the top of my head to keep me naturally warm.  Bring on summer!
• I don't mind hats, but I don't like wearing them all the time either.  I'm pretty sure that unless it's really freaking cold, I'll be going without anything on my dome when I'm at home.  It feels a little claustrophobic to have something on my head all the time.  Going out in public will be a different story, but I'm not sure which way I'm going to go yet - hat, wig, scarf, whatever floats my boat that day...
• Good eye makeup will be essential for the rest of the year.  Must pull attention away from the utter beige-ness.  When I have no makeup on I look like a pasty, dull, flesh-colored Cray-Pas.
• Sleeping isn't easy.  Every time I'd move my head last night, I'd wake up because I'm not used to the sensations on my scalp.  Right now I'm all stubbly up there, so I create a lot of friction against my pillow when I turn my head. Hopefully I'll get used to that soon.
• I don't think it's very fair that the hair on my head has to go first when I still have to shave my legs.  Come on.  Couldn't the leg hair go first - or even the armpit hair?  Seriously.

Anyway.  I'm doing totally fine with this.  I'll probably be a little self-conscious the first few times I go out in public - feeling like everyone is staring at me, but hopefully I'll get over that soon as well.  And I still have that initial shock when I glance in the mirror, but that will go away.  

Bring on the hairless remainder of 2014!

Losing It

Not my sanity - I think that's long gone.

My hair on the other hand is on its way out.  I'm shedding worse than my border collie, so either tonight or tomorrow, I'm shaving it off.  Well, Chris is.

So, here's the way the hair loss progressed, in case you're wondering how it happens.  I know I never really thought about it...

La la la...everything's fine.  Shower, brush through the hair, nothing extreme.
A week later, go to pull out a few pesky grey hairs and they give very little resistance - kind of like a weed that you've sprayed with weed killer - it just kind of pops.
A day later, you notice you can feel a few hairs pop out when it's stuck under your bag's shoulder strap
The next day, you go to run your fingers through your hair and notice that you're pulling out about 10-12 strands in your fingers.
The day after that, you wash your hair and become afraid that you're going to clog your shower drain with the amount of hair cascading down your body with the water.

It's at this point it's decided that the time is nigh.  Time to go all Britney and shave it off.

Muwahahahaha!

Illuminated

I was given the task of illustrating "Fighting Carcinoma in the Swamps of the Abbey" by a friend. I decided to go Medieval on it.

Modesty Be Damned!

You know, as Americans, we certainly are a prudish bunch.  ('Murica!)  I guess it goes back to our Puritan roots or something.  As women, we must keep our breasts covered at all times.  Not too much cleavage or you might distract those easily-distractable males around you.  Heaven forbid you show a nipple!  Just ask Janet Jackson about that one, and her nipple was covered...by a pastie.  Anyway, even though breasts are just part of being female, we've learned to keep them to ourselves and our partners....unless you're in the adult entertainment industry.

Well, any modesty I might have had has flown right out the window since this whole thing started.  The number of people who have seen my ta-tas has increased quadruple-fold.  Let's see...

1. Ob/Gyn
2. Mammogram tech
3. Ultrasound tech
4. 2nd Ultrasound tech
5. Radiologist
6. Surgical Oncologist
7. 2nd Mammogram tech
8. MRI techs (two of 'em)
9. Plastic Surgeon
10. Plastic surgery nurse - and she took pictures too!
11. 3rd Ultrasound tech
12. 2nd and 3rd Radiologist
13. Medical Oncologist

...and I'm not even near halfway through this crap.  

I'm thinking when I'm done and completely healed from surgeries, maybe I should become a stripper.  I certainly won't have a problem being topless anymore.  Of course, I don't know how many men would want to see a surgically-enhanced 40-year-old with scars dancing around in front of them.  Then again, they're probably not picky when they're drunk.

A New Look

To the blog...not to me.  Not yet anyway.  The hair's still attached for now!

I know it's a little fancy-schmancy for this kind of blog, but it's just so....me.  I can still be blunt and swear while being classy, right?

Oh, I could have gone with some lovely pink ribbon background, there are plenty of them out there, but I'd want to kill it with fire every time I set my eyes on it.  That's no good, right?

So, enjoy the prettyfulness of the blog's new look.

Random 2

That moment when you're scratching what you think is a scab and it doesn't come off, then you realize it's a stitch sticking out of your skin.

Ick.

I'm No Good at This

I had my first experience with someone I barely know coming up to me and talking to me about this carcinoma thing. After asking a few questions, he said, "Cancer really stinks." I replied, "Yeah, it's not great. I'm really not too fond of it myself." He said his goodbyes after that.

Something I said? I know it's awkward for everyone and my dry sense of humor probably doesn't help things. Perhaps I should stay at home until this is all over.

Danger, Will Robinson!

Okay, as of tomorrow, I'm headed into the span of time when my white cell counts are low.  According to what I just read I have to be sure to stay away from people with colds, the flu, and herpes.

Just sayin'.

Stick A Straw In Me

So, I have this port installed.  It's really a nifty thing when you think about it - it sits just under the skin and makes it much easier to give blood samples and get chemo treatments.  It's also a little gross. I mean, I have this medium-sized bump under my collar bone that's not supposed to be there and there's a line that's going up into the artery in my neck that I can feel when I turn just wrong.  Blech.

I had to laugh the other day though, because it made me think of my son's cold lunches. Just find the right spot and pop a straw needle in me.  I'm a huge, walking, non-silver freaking CapriSun!

Random 1

So, if I'm going to be losing my hair, which includes on my head, my eyebrows, leg hair, hair in the nether-regions, am I going to lose my nose hairs too?

Thanks, Billy Joel!

Another warning - I've kept a lot of little observations to myself for a while, so I'll probably be posting quite a few things in a short span of time.  

Dear Billy Joel and all of the radio programmers who think this is a great song to have on heavy rotation:

A big, hearty, double-fisted bird-flip to you!

Oh, the irony...

Another Cancer Blog? Really?

Ugh - I know.

I just needed a place to post the random things that pop into my head when it comes to this little breast cancer "adventure" that's been placed in front of me.  There have been so many times where I'm in the shower or driving down the road and something makes me laugh about all this crap and I have no way of sharing it without burdening all my Facebook friends with talk of cancer or unintentionally insulting someone who has been through the cancer experience in some way and finds absolutely no humor in it.

No, cancer in itself isn't funny, but situations that arise and the things you have to go through can be downright hilarious.  You see, I need to laugh.  This is how I deal with things.  This is how my husband deals with things.  If we don't laugh at it, what are we going to do - cry?  Think doom and gloom?  That's just not acceptable.  

So, as I said in the header, consider yourselves warned.  This is not a blog about the seriousness of something potentially fatal.  This is me venting and laughing and getting shit off my chest before half my chest is gone.  (Oh, yeah - and swearing.)  I will not pussy-foot around things, I will not censor myself to make sure I don't offend.  This isn't your blog, your life, or your cancer, it's mine.

 Lucky me.