It’s a little distressing how slow it’s growing.
And, of course, how grey it is. (I mean, I knew it was a little grey under my usual color, but c’mon!!)
But then I became so happy that I had hair at all — and that I didn’t have to wear hats on hot days — that I just kind of shrugged my shoulders and went with it. I figure it’s probably just as well to have easy-peasy hair when you’re still racing around to doctor’s appointments and have to constantly be changing clothes in doctor’s offices or lying down on tables. And now I’m quite liking the ridiculous ease of it all. (Basically wash, run a towel through, and you’re good to go.)
When a friend of mine called it “silver” the other day instead of “grey,” I even started to come to peace with the color.
I’ll still probably color it and grow it out eventually. (I mean, I did just turn 50. I’m already sensitive.) But for now it’s so easy and convenient that I’m going to leave it while I finish my treatments.
And I do have a bit to go.
I’ve been lying low since my surgery in July, but for whatever reason my incisions just didn’t heal. So I haven’t even started radiation. Instead, I’ve been doing wound care, daily home nurses, antibiotics, a variety of vitamins — and, meanwhile, doing physical therapy for lymphedema and to gain some stretch back where my lymph nodes were removed. I’m trying to eat plenty of protein, keep my circulation going, keep my mood up, wear my compression sleeve every day, do my exercises, take my vitamins, and keep my eyes on the horizon.
I’ll get there!
It is weird, though, to be coming upon my one-year anniversary of being diagnosed. (Oct 19.) The coming of October affected me more than I thought it would. I’ve been caught off guard by a certain smell in the air (some kind of fall pollen), a certain glance at something seasonal (a vision of pumpkin patch lights up at night), a certain annual visual (the tent going up for the annual October “Cavalia” Odysseo show off the freeway) — and instantly fear rushes at me and seizes me for a second. I’m immediately taken back to October 2015, when fear pretty much racked my days.
But I realize these bad feelings probably won’t last much past this month — the fear didn’t last the whole time, after all. Once November set in last year, I pretty much had a plan, a treatment, a medical team behind me, and was ready to go, with fear and panic pushed behind me.
So I just have to wade through this particular month carefully. And I’m determined to make new, happier memories as I go this year.
Already on the horizon: some birthday fun with Nate, some new pumpkin dishes to try, a trip to Montana to see Rene and enjoy some fall leaves, and some relaxing weekends with my hubby.
October, I still love you. Let’s do this …