First, let me say that I RARELY go to Walmart (like only a couple of times a year), so I'm convinced this was more than just a chance encounter. But I had purchased a gift that needed to be exchanged, and I was looking to find the exact same thing in a different size when I literally almost bumped into her. We each smiled and said, "Go ahead," pointing to the way our paths were crossing. We laughed, each gesturing for the other to proceed, then she very tentatively said, "I hope you don't mind my asking, but I see from your hair that perhaps you've had chemo?" When I told her that I was currently going through chemo, she confided that she was going to start next week and was scared. She asked, "How bad is it?"
We chatted for a while about chemo and ports and hair falling out, and I invited her to read this blog. I showed her my port and let her feel it, and that seemed to bring her some comfort since she wasn't sure what to expect. (In my opinion, the fear of the unknown is far worse than anything we can identify.) We left each other with a big hug and a few tears, and I promised to keep her in my prayers. I hope that my new friend, Stephanie, is able to come to terms with her condition and to keep her head high, her spirits up and her faith that all will be OK in the end.
A Backward Glance: April 6-7, 2013, Preemptive Strike #2
I haven't been able to blog for a couple of weeks now due to my heavy workload at this time of the year, so I'm going to take a few minutes now to catch up the happenings since my last post.
The oncologist had warned me that my hair would probably start falling out after the second chemo treatment, which I had on April 4. Sure enough, on Saturday, April 6, I noticed a pretty good sized clump of hair in the drain when I took my shower and a bunch of stray hairs on my pillow. On Sunday, after watching the first session of General Conference, I noticed about 40 or 50 hairs on the couch where I'd been sitting. That's it! Time to shave my head!
We'd known this day was coming for weeks, so we were pretty prepared for it. In between sessions of conference, we all three moved to the kitchen. Mike pulled out the trusty clippers I had used to shave my father's head (on his 74th birthday) when he was going through chemo, and Nick grabbed the dustpan and broom. As Mike shaved off the gorgeous new red locks, Nick quietly and continuously swept up each and every clump of hair. I'm sure shaving my head was harder on both of them than it was on me; I never saw so much as one hair on the floor or anywhere around me. I looked in the mirror before jumping into the shower and was surprised to see my father staring back at me. I never realized just how much I look like him!
One of the things Michelle, my oncology nurse, had warned me about was the emotional shock that losing your hair can be for a woman. She said that there's nothing worse than waking up with clumps of hair on your pillow, or brushing it and having clumps fall out. We had long ago decided that the only way to deal with losing my hair was to just accept it and DO IT – meaning not wait for the inevitable, but do a preemptive strike and shave when it was time, regardless of what others who didn't have our perspective on things might think or say. (And yes, there were a few "Why did you shave your head?" questions. Why? Because there's nothing more demoralizing than having clumps of hair fall out in your hands, or finding them on your pillow or in the bathtub drain each day. It's MUCH less traumatic to just shave it off and be done with it on your own terms. Oh – and by the way, no, you can't see my bald head. If I wanted you to see my bald head, I wouldn't be wearing this hat!)
Another Friend With Cancer
As Michelle the oncology nurse said in my first appointment, we would start noticing cancer everywhere – on TV, in movies, in commercials, in books, just EVERYWHERE. But the one place I didn't want to notice it was in my friends.
While I was going through the shaving-my-head weekend, another friend, Julio, was just finding out that he might have cancer too. I went with Mike and a few other priesthood holders to his house to give him a blessing, and felt impressed while I was there that one of the reasons I'm going through my cancer is to help Julio through his. As I've pondered that bit of inspiration, I have felt peace from my loving father in heaven and know that it is true. I hope that I am able to do that.
Oops – Really, it was an accident!
On Saturday, April 13th, I asked Mike to shave my head a little closer because the bristly hair (no longer soft and silky – maybe a result of the chemo?) was getting stuck in my hats and yanked out when I took the hats on and off. He readily agreed, and so we went back out to the kitchen with the trimmer.
After he finished shaving my head closer, Mike asked me to trim his hair and save him a trip to the barber. How could I refuse? So I put the 2" guide on the trimmer and proceeded to carefully trim his hair all around the sides and in the back. About that time Mike commented on how much money we could save by having me cut his hair again like I used to. I put the trimmer down on the kitchen counter for a minute while I brushed him off, then picked it up and took a swipe right down the middle of his head ... and gasped in shock. I had just shaved a 2" wide swath of his hair clear down to his scalp! I looked over at him in alarm, then to the kitchen counter – where the guide that should have been on the end of the trimmer sat mocking me.
At first I think he was a little upset, but I was even more so. I knew he didn't want to shave his head! The poor man just wanted a trim. But after looking at me in alarm, we both began laughing because there wasn't anything we could do but finish shaving it off. So we went in to church the next day looking like bald-headed twins. Mike collected much sympathy and goodwill for being such a good sport and shaving his head to be like his wife.
Chemo #3
Thursday, April 18th, brought chemo round #3. I went in like an old pro and got hooked up to my IV via my port, then walked myself over to a recliner and got comfortable for the 90-minute session. I kept busy with my tablet, answering emails, Facebook stalking my friends, and Pinteresting. I looked around at the others who were getting chemo at the same time and wondered about them and their treatments. Some were bundled under blankets, shivering and looking miserable; others looked like they were in pain or frightened. Either my chemo treatments are not as bad as theirs, or my attitude towards it is different because I know the outcome of mine. Either way, once again, I left my session feeling fine. I returned on Friday for the shot to build up my white blood count, then prepared for the cumulative effects of chemo round #3 to hit.
The weekend was spent mostly sleeping or just lying on the couch reading. The shot makes me feel like I have the flu – weak, tired, achy and just kind of blah. But thankfully, the flu-like symptoms only last for about three days. Then there's another couple of days of fatigue and nausea before my strength and energy return.
When I had met with the oncologist before chemo #2, he had told me that if the nausea drugs weren't strong enough, there were other options and I just had to ask for them. Though the drugs were fine for the first round, I did notice that they started wearing off after about four hours with the second round of chemo and I couldn't take the next dose for another two hours. So this time, I requested and received a stronger drug – Zofran. It lasts for eight hours and was much better at keeping the nausea at bay as the cumulative effects of the chemo got stronger. And in those first couple of days, I was free to tag-team the two drugs (like you do with Tylenol and Ibuprofen) to keep the nausea at bay.
A Little Help From My Friends
On Wednesday, April 24th, the Mia Maids from church (Cassie, Olivia, Breanna and Anna) came with their leaders (Sue and Barbara) and cleaned my house. They dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed the kitchen and bathrooms, washed the floors, washed the throw rugs, and even brought my family dinner and dessert for the following day. It's been all I can do to keep up with the laundry, cooking and dishes through this trial, even with help from Mike and Nick; so I truly appreciated their help. In fact, the last time my house was clean was when Mandy, Rob and their boys (Robert, Adam and David) came and cleaned the house prior to the hat shower that Nick threw a month ago. So you know it needed it!
Other friends (Cindy and Natasha) have brought me meals, and my counselors (Sandra and Suyapa) have been carrying Primary for the last month, teaching when I am too sick to go to church and attending my meetings for me. My boys have taken over much of the cooking and laundry, and all of the cat litter box cleaning duties, since litter boxes are specifically forbidden in my list of chemo no-nos. Yay! (Who knew I had to get cancer and have chemo to get someone else to clean the litter box?)
I am amazed at how many friends have written, emailed and Facebooked their love and support for me during this trial. I am so grateful for your cards, your thoughts and your prayers and rather humbled by all the attention. You sure know how to make a girl feel good. :)
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