Stuff

Hi there! I don’t really know what this post is going to be about. Just stuff, I guess. So here’s some stuff:

If you’ve been following my Facebook page, you might know this first bit of news. I’ve started going out naked. Ok, no, not that kind of naked. But naked up top. On my head. I did it for the first time on Saturday. First to a street festival, then to see The Book of Mormon. I had initially told myself (during one of my many self-talks) that I wasn’t going to go out sans head cover for awhile still, until I really felt like I just looked like any other lady with short hair. But I’m an impatient person and I got tired of waiting.

At first, all I noticed was how cold the wind felt when it hit my head. Hair really accounts for a lot of one’s body warmth. After awhile, I kind of forgot about it, although it’s hard to ignore the stares that I get. My sister says they stare because they think I’m pretty, but I’m not sure I’m really sold on that. I think most people stare because they are trying to figure out what my “deal” is. And to be fair, I’d probably stare a bit too.

When I catch my reflection in a window or mirror, I can’t help but hear “Well, Sinead O’rebellion…” over and over in my head. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you should probably watch more movies.


Sometimes, I look at other people and try to imagine what they’d look like with no hair. Or I see people with hair like mine, and I tell myself I look better than them. I realize that’s really terrible and I probably shouldn’t be admitting that out loud. But I do what I gotta do to cope. And if convincing myself that everyone else would look ugly bald is the ticket, then I’m going with it.

I’ve started taking photos to monitor my hair growth, because otherwise, I don’t believe it’s growing. Maybe these photos will help someone going through chemo, because I can’t tell you how many times I tried to find images of people’s post-chemo hair growth.

Today, bird's eye view.
Today, bird’s eye view.
Front view
Front view. I’m not really sure what colour my hair is at this point. Many people have grey hair post-chemo. I wouldn’t say mine is grey, but it’s definitely not the deep brown it once was. Kind of a mouse-y brown. But I imagine it is temporary.

You also might be interested to know that my body hair is returning in full-force. Just in time for summer, swimsuits, and short shorts. Yippee!

Today I had radiation #4. Only 21 more to go! Oy.

At this point, although it’s very early days, I still have no complaints besides some issues with mistakes in my schedule that hopefully will not keep happening, now that the staff know I am a force to be reckoned with. I’ve gotten pretty good at holding my breath with a tube in my mouth and a plug on my nose. Maybe after all of this, I can become a champion scuba diver. Does such a thing exist? I don’t know, but regardless, I don’t think that is my calling.

Today I also decided to pop into the lab to get my routine blood work done. My last couple tests had one level increase that prompted a new wave of panic in me, even though my doctors told me not to worry about it. But once I learned what this increase could possibly signify, it was hard for me to ignore it. So I was a bit hesitant to check my results this afternoon, but as mentioned previously, I am extremely impatient. So I held my breath and checked, and what do you know. Everything is back to normal. All green check marks. This is the first time I’ve seen everything be normal in awhile. And even though no one believed my previous results were anything to write home about, I still feel relieved. I like seeing those bright green check marks. Hello, I’m a straight A student. And patient. Anything less than a check mark is just insulting.

So, there you have it. Some stuff. More to come soon. You can count on it.

Looking forward

RIP eyelashes, you are sorely missed.
RIP eyelashes, you are sorely missed.

I looked at the results earlier this week from my routine blood draw, and for the first time, it showed a red flag instead of a check mark. The change alarmed me, as I stared at the ominous graphic of a down-facing arrow, signifying a drop of some sort. The description stated that I am anemic. As someone who has never failed a test, I was disheartened to see I had failed this one, after having a perfect score thus far throughout my chemo treatments. It was also an odd feeling, realizing that I am not in control of what is happening to my body right now. And things are most definitely happening. I suppose this should be reassuring, but there’s also something upsetting about it. I found the staff oncologist and asked her if the drop in my levels was anything to be concerned over. She explained that my numbers were still fine, and to be expected, for someone undergoing chemotherapy. The regular range only applies to regular people.

I am growing tired of the whole chemo routine and having all these bizarre things happen to my body.  I have about half an eyebrow on both sides and a significant portion of my once lusciously long eyelashes have fallen out. I was reading today that for many women, it takes a very long time for their lashes to come back, and often when they do, they are not as long as they once were. Something so silly, yet it made me feel quite sad. I have a few “things” and my lashes are (were) one of them. I often get compliments on them or people asking me if they’re real (they are….were). It can be rough to think of some of the long-term side effects from the chemotherapy, or the ones that will linger for some time. It is also somewhat of a heavy feeling, to think of the treatments and long road I still have to walk after chemo is complete. Despite what future post-chemo blood results might show, I know I will never quite be a “regular” person again. But let’s be honest, I never really was.

So in order to not get completely depressed, I’ve decided to make a list of some of the things I am looking forward to after chemo is over. Because there are things, and I need to remember them, especially when all that is going through my head right now is the fact that in a few days, I will once again be in a massive amount of pain and threatening to jump out windows.

Here is what I am looking forward to:

Eating sushi… the real kind
Not being afraid that every person who coughs or sneezes is going to kill me
Grocery shopping without passing out in the cereal aisle
Spring and the end of a miserable winter
Going for long walks
Not feeling like I am walking on hot coals
Hair regrowth, hopefully in the right places
Not having people stare at me with a does she have cancer or is she just some artsy girl wearing a scarf on her head look
Eating a real caesar salad
Having my skin return to normal and losing the not-so-sexy red patches that have taken up residence on my cheeks
Gaining my energy back (this one can take months, or years, but even a small increase will be something to celebrate)
Writing bitchy comments on people’s facebook statuses such as “I just endured four grueling months of chemo, but I do really sympathize with your seasonal cold that lasted three days.” (I will never actually have the nerve to do that, but I think about it all. the. time.)
Not having a perma-runny nose
Tastebuds that work properly
Not basing my entire life around my chemo schedule
Planning the most needed vacation ever in the history of vacations, even though I still can’t take one for some time
Being able to say I’m 28 years old and survived chemotherapy. And I’m still standing.