It’s been a while since my last post.  I wish I could say that I was gallivanting around the town, riding hippos and granting wishes but alas I was mostly house bound.  My last Chemo round really hit me hard, and I’ve been mostly recouping from that.  I had a few too many glasses of wine the other night (yes Mom I can have wine during Chemo, but usually only a glass 🙂 ) and during this intoxicated state had a long conversation with G.  I was worried that he found me lazy.  I’ve been mostly doing a lot of nothing and when I do do stuff, I get SO tired.  Most of my days are spent in a daze, kind of a sleepy, pillow over the head feeling.  I have so many plans, ‘I’m going to clean the house from top to bottom’ but have SO much trouble doing it.  I feel guilty because so many people going through this are throwing up all the time and my only issues are gastrointestinal and tiredness.  I’ve read about woman who are going through it and their houses are spotless.  Mine is far from it, but I did manage to get most of my Christmas decorations up!  Hooray for small accomplishments!

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I’ve always had trouble with saying the right things to people when they are either sick, have family that is or had someone close to them pass away.  I usually say how sorry I am and hope that they get better soon and or something in those lines.  I always feel awkward and end up replaying what I have said over and over in my head hoping it was alright.  That being said, I understand that others don’t know what to say to me.

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It’s been a hard week.  I had my usual, pre-chemo 3 week meeting with another oncologist this past Wednesday because my usual one was on rounds yet again.  As she was checking my body, mostly my glands and breasts she casually mentioned if I have thought having my ovaries removed.  I didn’t know what she meant, and told her that no one has yet mentioned this and asked her why would I have them removed.  She told me that since my estrogen levels were high, that it would mean I would most likely be put on Lupron (the menopause drug that lowers my estrogen) until I go naturally into menopause (I guess when I’m mid 50s?!).  We talked a little more about having children post Chemo and was told again that it is risky because it will increase my estrogen levels. She said that I can talk more about this later with my Dr. S (my actual Oncologist)

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I keep having ‘what if’ moments.  What if the Chemo doesn’t work?  What if I hadn’t found the cancer?  What if the cancer comes back?  What if I can’t have children?  What if, what if, what if…  I think I’m driving G mad.  I can’t stop thinking this though, and I’m sure everybody has many ‘what ifs’ in their life.  I like to plan and find solutions in my head for all of my what ifs.  I guess it helps brings the control somewhat back but I know I can really drive myself (and others) crazy with this.  I know that I can’t change anything, and I know I am doing my best and have done just about everything so that these ‘what ifs’ never happen but I still get scared and nervous.

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It’s official.  I’m an ebay junkie, an addict to the ‘buy now’ button.  I can’t stop buying wigs, hats and now beads.  I’m going stir crazy, so I’m making bracelets, necklaces and bookmarks.  I also bought a crotchet book and yarn to make my own hats.  I’m not so good at teaching myself though, and my hands shake so it might take me awhile to make stuff but at least I’m having fun at it!

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It’s only been a few days of being bald, but I must say that is all it took for me to adapt.  I was very sad the first night and day after.  Very sad.  But than it hit me, it really is just hair!  It is a small price to pay for my life.  And really, losing my hair means that the Chemo is working!  It is doing its job, and I really should be concentrating on that.

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I’ve never really been a ‘hair’ girl.  I mean, I’ve always liked my hair but I’ve never obsessed over it, until now.  The past few days, it’s been falling out, but a few strands at a time.  Normal like.
Well, until today.  Today I would run my hands through it and come out with handfuls of hair.  Totally gross, and every-time I would show it to G.  “G, look at this!  Shoot, it’s coming out”.  He eventually told me I didn’t have to show him all the time, that he believed me. I might have grossed him out too.

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