Baby Got Fuzz

It started about a month ago, this soft sprouting on my head. At first it was more like the down on an Easter chick, and very white.

Over the last month, it has developed some color, mostly platinum on top. It's probably gray but I prefer platinum. The sides and back are a light brownish blond. It is growing thicker more than growing longer, but it's coming back. So are my eyelashes. My eyebrows? Almost completely gone.



Look at that Russian Sage behind me, in all its violet glory!  It's hummingbird crack.  They come in droves for it.  One of these days, I am going to get a photo for you of that crazy hummer who is always coming at me.

Thank you for all your prayers, love and "Go Deb!"  It's working.  I am doing so much better.

Today I walked the neighborhood, what a challenge.  I did it though, I was breathing through my mouth not even half way up my street, but I did it.  I'd get a little farther and say to myself "ok, that's good, let's go home."

Then I'd think "Come on, you can go farther" and so I did.  It was the longest walk I've taken in weeks.  Those endorphins kicked in cause I was feeling good, but my feet, oh baby, my feet and toes are still numb tonight.  Especially in the right foot all the way up into my knee.

I have been on Sam-e, extra Vitamin B, and magnesium for almost two weeks.  So far it has not helped with the neuropathy in the feet, but I have noticed the eye twitching and blurred vision have been greatly reduced.  Hopefully soon, the good nerve messages will reach my hands and feet.

I went to see The Good Witch on Friday for my follow-up after finishing chemo, we had a great meeting.  It was my first time out without a scarf or wig, and it felt great.  Vonda had just come back from being off sick for a couple days; poor baby and she seemed stressed.  She is heading up to Oregon for a  little vacation next week.  Have fun girl!

"Remember that dream you had about the sharks and King Kong..." I filled her in on all the recent events, and we talked about where I am physically right now.  In August, when I returned to work, I would have said I was at about 70%.  Now?  20%.  The Good Witch thought that all things considered, it is probably for the best that my reconstruction surgery will be delayed, giving me a lot more recovery time before that major surgery.

She said that my body has had one insult after another, and this new plan will give me time to recover between each new phase.  "Hey" she exclaimed about ten minutes into our conversation.  "Look at all that hair coming in" then "You really are a blond!"  We laughed.

She asked me why had I decided to go ahead with the prophylactic mastectomy for Mopsy.  Better cosmetic result?

I explained that I just didn't want to have to worry about it, and what they would do to Mopsy to reduce her they might as well just scoop her out, and either way, I would have loss of sensation in that nipple.  She nodded, although I think she still feels this is unnecessary.

"I suppose for the sake of the blog, actually going through the mastectomy and waiting for reconstruction will provide me with a lot more material and kind of the full experience." I smiled.

"What are you going for, street cred?" and then we both laughed that gut laugh.

Then she let me talk, I told her all kinds of things, some secrets, and how I was proud of myself, and using my voice for good and to help myself and others.  She sat quietly on her stool and listened, and a couple of times, while smiling, I saw tears well in her eyes.  She is proud of me too.

She talked about how people handle a cancer diagnosis, and how some people don't.  I know The Good Witch, my quarterback, my cancer therapist, with all her best magic and bag of tricks focused on my healing, has a front row seat to the good and hard work I do, for myself.

As I have said before, cancer did not do this for me.  This was my reply.  She is proud of me too.      

 

"Well, let's take a look" she says, and I took off my shirt and bra for her to examine Flopsy.  She did a thorough exam, especially around the nipple and heading towards my armpit, where the big ass tumor used to be. "Wow, this is just incredible, I don't feel a thing anymore. Your breast and your nipple look great and so soft! I will be very interested to hear what the surgeon finds when he goes in."

She wrote her fax number on the back of her business card and handed it to me. "Make sure he faxes over the pathology for me."

I sure get a kick out of her.  We talked a long time, I soak her in.  She is wonderful.  I won't see her again until a couple of weeks after my surgery.  Don't miss chemo, but sure will miss my peeps.

She handed me a prescription for a mastectomy bra and breast prostheses, my chicken cutlets.  I plan on going there this week, the special shop that has a "Mastectomy Fitting Specialist."  Should be interesting.  It's a whole nuther world people. 

I wonder if the breast prostheses will be like when you buy chicken breasts?  Boneless?  Skinless, boneless?  Half breasts?  Sheeza gonna find out.

I guess I should get what looks like a size "C" cup since that's probably what I will end up with.  Only 23 more days left with my "Double D's."

I will need some new names for Flopsy and Mopsy after the bilateral mastectomy (BLM).  Maybe Abbott and Costello?  Aaabbbottttt!!!!!!!!!!

Then again next summer when I get the new boobs.  The Stepford Wives?

Go on, take your best shot, I can take it.

My nephew Wolfie called while I was walking today.  "Auntie, so far, what are the take-aways for you?"

Well Baby, cancer sucks.  I am one tough bitch.  There are certain occasions when no other word will do but the eff word.  God is good.  Life is good. Love love love.

So, go on, don't be shy.  Got anything for my girls?

It's ok.

God is good.  Life is good.  Love love love.

and I am one tough bitch.

We all are.  Every one of us.  My Sistas of the Cancerous Breasts.

October is the month they honor us.

Honor me by stopping your procrastination and go get that damned mammogram.

You know who you are.

Do it.   

And don't listen to that bullshit about waiting till you are 50 and then every other year.  You watch.  They will change that back again.

Do it.

There's one more thing.

While I was sitting in the exam room waiting for The Good Witch, I heard her come out of another exam room on her cell.  It was a call regarding another patient of hers, the caller asking for guidance on how much to up the pain med's.  I could gather that the patient was in hospice care and did not have much longer to live.

I heard The Good Witch say something to the effect of "not too much, I don't want it to happen too fast."

I took a deep breath, I said a prayer for that nameless patient, who probably would not last another precious day.  I imagined a family gathered bedside.

Every day is a gift.

Amen.