I Still See Me in the Mirror (even with a shaved head)

Two days ago, my friend Ally shaved my head. My hair had reached a point where it was falling out unprompted and my hairline and the growing bald spots on my head were not hidden well with scarves or creative hair styling. So, I was done with it.

Now, I am nearly bald. Last night, I was relieved when I looked in the mirror and just saw 'me'. Smiling at my reflection, I saw the same rosy cheeks, smiling eyes and crease across my nose. My skin looks mostly the same color (chemo tends to change skin tone a bit) and my topaz earrings shone brightly, no longer impeded by hair. A big change from nearly two years ago, when my first glance at my shaved head screamed, "cancer patient". And the hats and head wraps made me feel even less attractive.

Instead of covering my head up right away like I did last time, I have been avoiding wearing hats around the house. Eventually, after the kids and me are more used to my new look, I may even venture out in public without covering my head. I am not sure if it is because I am feeling brave or because I am bored with my hat collection. Either way, I know the first time out of the house will be hard...but maybe I will like it.. Who knows? I have one nice looking head, after all. I am lucky in that respect.

Admittedly, brave or no, there will be times where wearing a wig is most appropriate. On Wednesday, I am taking my old wig to my hair dresser for some re-shaping. Steve is pushing me to get a real hair wig...and I am beginning to believe that is the way to go...especially after talking to Ally. I just wince at the price a bit. That, and I hear that the upkeep on them is difficult. As usual, I have a lot to learn and have added to my task list some research on real hair wigs. Just what I need, more on my task list.

Yesterday, I had chemo. All went well. However, due to the fact that they premedicate me with a steroid before my Taxol, I find that the night after chemo I do not sleep well. So, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. this morning for no apparent reason. I managed to procrastinate writing in my blog for a couple of hours by playing Words with Friends, entertaining myself of Twitter and catching up on other blogs that I follow. I really enjoy all three of those activities, by the way. My friends on Twitter have a unique way of lifting my spirit, especially. Sometimes, we do not even correspond...I just love their positive spirits and funny posts. (Facebook friends, I love you too...you are just not awake at 4:00 a.m.!)

Next week, I have chemo again, and then a week off. I am finding that chemo is not my focus, which is great. Instead, I am revelling in the last days of summer with my kids, admiring the way they are growing and maturing. I even have them emptying the dishwasher and helping me pick out foods at the Farmers' Markets. Our time together is precious. So very precious. Steve is jealous, but turn about is fair play, right? He is a teacher and always has had a month off with the kids during summer, while I slave away at the office.

My brother and sister-in-law will be in town this weekend for their friends' wedding. Seeing Darin and Kelly always make me smile. I can hardly wait to show Kelly, who has a marvelous green thumb, how our organic garden is growing! It is so fun to go out and grab my own basil and cilantro to add to my raw food dishes.

As I am beginning to ramble, I will end this now and prepare for the busy day ahead. And when I look in the mirror this morning, I think I will even put on a little make-up...because that is what the pre-metastatic cancer Marsi would have done. Then, I will look even more like 'me'. And when I get really brave....I will share some pictures here...Happy Tuesday, all!

Orchid by my Bedside

There is an orchid by my bedside,

Purple, tall in stance.

Gracefully smiling at me,

Bringing joy with each glance.

A gift from a neighbor,

That I hardly know.

A gift so timely,

On a day, so slow.

Slow in stolen moments,
Where I still have my hair.
Now thinning so effortlessly,
With each breath and without flair.

With each movement,
Another hair falls,
Silently to my shoulder.
Resting and uncalled.

"Let it be gone!"
Is what my brain wants to say,
My heart weeps alone,
That it has happened this way.

A cancer patient again,
Nothing tells more,
Than a young, bald head,
Hat covered and adorn.

At least chemo is working,
And the hair will grow back.
Justification comes easy,
Helps my spirit, intact.

Flowers by my bedside,
Faithful and true,
Representing beauty,
My life, renewed.

How Are You?

Home sick for the past couple of days I got to thinking that I have missed some obvious opportunities to compose entries for my blog. I cannot even tell you that I remember what they are, because my memory is not my strong suit these days. However, as I put together my family photo collage that I am hoping to use for our Christmas card this year, I started to think about my supporters, confidants and friends, and my intermittent lack of connection through my blog entries.

So, how are you? This is what really crossed my mind. Lovely people have posted comments to this blog. Some of them that I know and some that I do not. Like the friend you never knew that you had, I came to rely on these comments to help boost my confidence and on those days when I felt a little lonely or lost. They reminded me to stay positive. Even though my writing portrayed my positive outlook, I did not and still do not always feel that way. Comments on my blog were the reassurance I needed to help me through difficult moments.

So, I guess what I am trying to say is THANK YOU!

As far as what is going on with me physically, this weekend I have been sick. A winter cold. I fell ice skating a couple of weeks back and bruised my tailbone, too. I am still nursing that injury. My left breast is ready for reconstructive surgery. Though, surgery has been postponed until March for personal reasons. It is hard as a rock though, full of saline and ready for implant. My husband and I laugh about how it just sort of sits there, not moving or wiggling. (Sorry, if that is too much information!)

I also have discovered lately that I am physically very weak. Combined with the fact that my balance is a bit off, I am being more careful than ever. I recently joined the YMCA and am planning to start rectify this, while my daughter attends gymnastics at the same facility. I think yoga might be good for me as well, so I am working on finding time and a class for that.

My Christmas shopping is nearly complete and I am more organized than I have ever been in this respect. Maybe it is just because I am appreciating the holidays a little more? Not that I never did appreciate them, I am just sayin'.....

My kids are participating in their Christmas programs at their elementary school this week and last. I remember being at those performances this time last year, waiting for my hair to fall out from chemo, wondering if the next person who shuffled behind me to find their seat and bumped the back of my head would make it so. I remember it so clearly. It is so nice to have hair again. And a lot of it.

Anyway, I am truly having a joyful Holiday season. Who better to share it with than you all? Thank you for always being there for me this year. Thank you for reading my blog. I am truly honored.

The Game of Life

I just finished a rockin' game of Life with my kids. The Sponge Bob version to be exact. Harrison assigned himself to Mr. Krabs and Madison was Sponge Bob. I got to be the paperclip. (We are missing some game pieces.) Harrison was the banker. Madison was in charge of the game cards for which she sang every word on the card in perfect pitch during the entire game. We worked our way around the board experiencing job changes, pay days and expense cards. We laughed and we bickered. We even danced a little. Mr. Krabs, the cheapskate by character, won. Kind of fitting, I think. As was playing this game on this night after this week.

Today, I was presented with an opportunity to be a part of a research study on nutrition for cancer survivors. However, only survivors diagnosed with cancer in stages I to IIIa qualify to participate. I did not think I was a fit, but I called Steve because I wanted to know for sure. For those of you who have read my past blog entries, you may remember that I never wanted to know my stage. Thus, I don't. I knew it was bad. I knew I had to fight a monster regardless of heavy weight ranking.

Steve knew definitively. "You were stage 3c or 4a, " he said. "The doctors said that it was stage four because it was inoperable but was downgraded to 3c when the chemotherapy worked."

Oh.

"I really defeated a beast, didn't I?" I said.

"Yes, you did, honey. I am proud of you."

I was fighting for my life, after all. This past year, when people used that expression in regard to me, I always thought they were being over dramatic. Hmmm...maybe I was wrong.

Yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment where they filled my expander. The expander now harbors 200/350 cc's of saline, which is gradually being added in order to prepare my skin and muscle to hold the implant. While I waited in the quiet procedure room, I had a moment to reflect on my strategy for living my best life in the short term. I have been in such a rush to complete my journey that I had not thought in depth about the repercussions of having my last surgery immediately after Thanksgiving. I know how strong I am and how much I can handle physically. However, what I had not considered is what I can handle mentally. During this brief sanctuary of quiet reflection, I concluded that I do not want another Christmas season like the one I had last year.

I have a vivid memory of last year's Holiday Sing at the elementary school. Sadly, I do not remember anything about my child's performance. What I do remember is that my hair was falling out in clumps from the chemotherapy. I remember telling myself that my hair falling out was a good sign in that it meant that the chemo was working. However, inside, my heart was breaking. That night, I had clipped my hair up in a style aimed to hide my growing bald spots. I was sitting in the front row of the auditorium and people were filing in to sit in the row behind me. The rows were narrow and some parents inadvertently bumped my head as they squeezed by. I remember thinking that if one more person bumped my head that all of my hair was going to fall to the ground. I was astonished that it did not. That bitter memory is burned in my brain. I want to replace it with new ones.

This year, I want to go to ALL of the holiday parties. Go to my kids' school performances. Go to the December and January soccer tournaments. Bake cookies. Wrap presents. The kids are getting so big, so fast. At ages seven and 10, it will not be too much longer before Christmas loses its bright-eyed wonderment - which to witness is truly one of the best rewards of being a parent. I do not want to miss another moment.

So, playing the game of Life tonight with my kids tied my week's experiences up in a bow, like a gift. A sweet reminder of what could have been or not have been as the case may be. How lucky I am. How blessed I am to have countless more chances to sit around the coffee table in my living room and play a board game. I'll take being that paperclip and any Life expense cards you can throw at me. Mr. Krabs, I want a re-match!