Monday, March 8, 2010

Flashback: March 8, 2010 zzzzzz zzz Buzz Cut zzzzzz

Natalie's 10th birthday is on March 6, so Mark surprised her by taking her for her first airplane trip to  Chicago to visit her uncle, Steve, Aunt Laura, and cousin, Nicole.   The house is quiet without them, though we call each other throughout the day and Mark sends pictures so I can see what they are up to.  Larissa, Amore and I are hanging out at home, making popcorn and watching movies. 

I had labs drawn on the 5th, Dr. Laudi said my tumor markers have dropped into the 50s.  The chemo is doing its job.
My hair is falling out.  I wake up with hair on my pillow, hair in my eyes, hair up my nose.  It tickles and makes me feel so itchy it's driving me crazy.  I have balding spots and thin spots and thick spots.  I remember my great- aunt Connie describing her hair loss after chemo. 

She always laughs and says, "I looked just like the Crypt-keeper on that old TV show."  

Good grief!!!   The really scary thing is.... I know how she felt.

My mom, Amy and Terran planned to come over today to help clean the house and catch up our laundry.  I called Amy before they left and asked her to grab the dog clippers.  I know hair is a huge deal to many people- it's usually the first side effect oncologists and nurses prepare you for- but it's not a big deal to me.   At least, I don't think it is.  It's just hair.  Hair isn't me. 

Larissa and Terran played as we cleaned.  The clippers sat in their case on the kitchen island until the dishes and vacumning were done and the clothes folded and put away.   Then, we were ready...

I know from the outside, it doesn't really look like it

but it does feel like the crypt-keeper from the inside.

Now I know how the dogs feel.

It is kind-of funny

and surreal

and shocking

and hilarious

and Amy says everyone should have a mohawk at least once. 

It also feels kind-of ...
a loss.... 

I will keep this hair until Spring,
then leave it outside
as a gift to mother birds
building their nests.
Always honest, Larissa said, "I don't like it."
Amore stood on my offending boob,
squashing it into submission.

Then, with the simple wisdom and grace of a dog,
Amore showed me what I already knew.         
Hair is not me.  I am still me.  

Cancer and chemo can take many things,
but they can't take love :)

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