Pinky Tuscadero

     I never knew how wrinkly it can be right where your ears attach to your head.  I feel like I look like this on the outside:

Yes, elf cats are real.

     But with my hormone factory being (temporarily?) shut down AND the chemo aggravating the resulting hot flashes with temperature spikes of its own, I feel like this on the inside:

Whatever I touch starts to melt in my clutch.

     All of a sudden I have to whip off my hat because my head has burst into flame!  I'm breaking out in an instant sweat on my head, on my upper lip--and then I want to take off shoes and socks and any kind of sweatshirt or jacket.  And the minute I do that, my Inferno Head cools off and I get all clammy and chilled and my feet complain that they are too cold and I just go back and forth between those two poles (ahhh...see how I did that? Hot and cold? Heat Miser AND Snow Miser? Poles?).

     If I am with family or friends in my house I feel okay just "disrobing" my head (seriously, not sexy, even though I'm using the word "disrobe")...but it feels a little intimate out in the big world of strangers.  I am working on getting over the uneasiness I have just taking the hat off without somehow checking with people ("Uh, I'm sorry, pardon me, is this going to make you feel uncomfortable to have my shiny bald chemo head come out right now?"), because when the heatwave hits, it hits hard!

Alter Ego: Fifi Bonbon

When I'm a grandma.

     Do you remember way back when I talked about wigs--voting for fuchsia or silver ?  Well, fuchsia won by a landslide, but I only just received my perfectly pinkalicious wig to go alongside my white-with-pink-and-blue-highlights wig.  Here are both--no face, because this is the Internet after all and no one needs to know what I look like as a complete entity. Unless you want to think I look like that Charlize Theron picture I posted previously--please, proceed with envisioning me that way, by all means.

     When my sister was in town we went on a family trip to the grocery store in the evening whilst I donned my pink wig for its first public outing.  It was a really cold night, and the wig was nice and toasty for being outdoors...and inside the freezer section.  Now, I haven't taken the white wig out for a comparison spin yet, so I have yet to assess potential differing responses to each wig, but I will tell you what I noticed about how people behaved and responded; whether this is because I had a posse with me that made me feel more confident and so I presented myself more confidently, or whether this is how the public would react even if I were by myself, this is the bottom line: Teenagers and young people didn't look twice.  They either interacted with me and/or ignored me as they would any other adult who can't ground them, but the pink hair seemed to make no difference. Same with people about 20+ years old than me.  They didn't seem like they gave a flying flip one way or the other what was on my head--again, whether they were interacting or just passing by (and those who know me know that I am an Interactor--I DO talk with strangers, thank you very much).  That was very cool.  The people who DID give me the wee-est bit of a stink-eye were...drumroll please...women about my own age. Not men of any age grocery shopping by themselves.  But mid-century solo ladies like myself.   Which I wasn't expecting at all.  I expected moderated derision/lip curl from teens or an older crowd--not so, to my surprise.  I didn't think the harshest critics were going to be...ME people!  Very interesting!  So back off, stink-eye people!  You can't judge a book, etcetera!

     So recovery is slower this time; I'm more tired, much more dependent on anti-nausea meds, more "I'm trapped in gelatin" at some points with regards to snappy brain function. I am always acutely aware that I have the absolute and priceless luxury of simply recovering from each round of chemo; I do not have to cobble together sick days, borrow personal time from coworkers, meter out a few days off after chemo and then head back into work while I'm feeling totally off-kilter and then function to full capacity to meet my work and home obligations.  I don't know how people do that, I really don't--the thought staggers me.  I can't imagine what my job performance would be, or how I would feel by the end of a day, or how much longer a body would take to recover when you can't just rest when you need to rest.  I think of how this chemo would translate into my past career lives and, although I know there are so many people who gut it out and balance it because they have no choice, I don't envision me doing that successfully at all.  I decided to give up my volunteer life knowing my brain is not fully on point at any given time--if I had to punch the clock and bring it every day, well, damn.  Those folks are simply amazing.
     On a happy post-chemo note, no mouth sores this time, so that's a nice perk.  Eyebrows are thinning waaaaay out and eyelashes are are all fairly stubby or downright gone, especially on my lower lids (refer back to that first photo on this post).  I have to think by the time I get to Chemo Day #5 I will be so tired I'll just sleep the entire 4 hours in the Den unless my bladder wakes me up.  So here's a note specifically to any "going through chemo peeps" who are in a position to rest up, although I issue a disclaimer here:  Maybe I am just the most slug-tastic chemo patient on the planet, but it is possible you may feel a little bit like me.  Yes, it is true what everyone who has had chemo is telling you:  You will be tired. Really tired.  And it's hard not to be your own worst critic and think you can pull yourself up by your bootstraps and just "get over it."  There is everything you want to be doing, and everything others are generously doing for you, and when you feel wiped out there comes creeping an image of yourself as a lazy so-and-so that is truly unpalatable:  

Methinks I am about to swoon!

     It's hard to have that picture in your personal negative feedback loop.  There are so many people expending effort and energy on behalf of me and my family, and I feel like I'm not making an effort in comparison.  I even know better than this, and I still can't keep the image completely at bay.  The truth is that you cannot "will" yourself to have more energy, even as you can do things to maybe pep yourself up:  sit in some fresh air for a bit, take a wee little walkabout maybe, make contact with someone, watch Raylan on "Justified" (that's a whole 'nother post, boy howdy), post a picture of how you look like an elf cat, all those good things that replenish you.  And if you don't have the energy for those things on any given day, that's okay.  If your energy level isn't consistent from one day to the next, that's just the way it is--you aren't on anyone else's recovery schedule but your own.  So you can't complete your whole laundry list of chores, those super-important "things to do" that are bugging you--that's okay.  If you can spend 10 minutes, great! More?  Awesome!  Think you can, but then you get a little too tired?  Take a nap.  It's oooookay.  The only person who should be tallying things up on a scorecard is, uh...no one.  So stop it already.  It serves no positive purpose right now.

     And speaking of positive purpose, I'm must say once again how much I appreciate what is being done for me and my family.  I cannot express how grateful I am and overwhelmed by the human capacity for kindness and generosity being demonstrated in my life right now. I just know the best people ever, I think.  And to everyone who is sending good thoughts, I thank you.  You don't have to leave a comment to make a difference to me--I know you are out there.  Many many thanks to everyone.  And that includes my family here who is making do with a whole lot less of me than normal, even as they see a whole lot more of me hanging listlessly around the house.