Adults say the darndest things!

First of all, please know that I'm not offended when and if you say things like this to me, but I'm writing this so that you're more aware in the future of how the things you say might be...hmmm...well, quite simply put, WRONG.  I'm fairly certain that along with the faulty brca gene, I'm also missing a few sensitivity genes, so when people make comments like this to me, I just smile and shake my head.  However, I'm sure that not all people that have diseases are quite as immune to comments that are rather insensitive.

We've all heard the saying: Kids say the darndest things, but what I've found to be more accurate since my diagnosis is that kids say the most truthful things and adults say the darndest things!

I have had many kids ask me why I'm wearing the scarfs/beanies. I explain to them that I have cancer and that the medicine that the doctors are giving me also makes my hair fall out.  Some of them have asked if it hurt when it fell out, others asked it will grow back, and some were satisfied with simply knowing why I was wearing the scarf.

Adults, well, as my hair falls out, I continue to get things like this from them:

"You look like a lesbian"  (Absolutely nothing against gay or lesbian people.  I have many friends that choose this lifestyle and I was not at all offended by this statement. Yet, for some people it's probably not what I would consider a compliment.)

"I can't believe you lost your hair already!" (Really people, it's not fun to lose your hair.  Implying that it's gone more quickly than you anticipated doesn't make the person that's pulling their hair out in clumps feel any better!  On a bad day, I might have snapped: I can't believe you're wearing that shirt in public!)

"You look like a fortune teller, will you buy my lottery ticket?" (If I were a effing fortune teller, I would have had my tatas taken off a few years ago and avoided the chemo and radiation, dumb ass.)

"With the scarf and those big earrings, you look like a pirate!" (I do like to dress up for Halloween, but mostly because my lover has a kick ass party.  NOT because I want to look like a pirate every day.)

"How is Aunt Jemima doing this morning?" (Obviously better than you because you're an ass.)

"I didn't think you liked to wear the head diapers (chemo beanie)?"  (Actually, you're the one that said you like the scarfs better.  I just want to have something on my head when I walk out the door, but thanks for referring to my head wrap as a diaper!)

"Take that thing off.  You're cute enough to go bald." (From a person that doesn't even know my name, simply works in my office building.  Really, if I wanted your opinion, I'd ask, but in the meantime, why don't you shave your head and see what it's like to have everyone stare at you with pity when you walk by?)

"Are you feeling ok?  You don't look like you're feeling well." (Actually, no, I feel like crap!  I just had my second chemo treatment and shaved my head.  I feel like crap and I'm in a very public place trying to live my life.  Thanks for pointing out that I look as well as I feel!)


So far, this is my favorite.  Wait for it, wait for it!

After discussing all of the ailments that the person was suffering from (I pretended to feel ok even though I felt like crap and it hurt to open my eyes), they said: "I almost wish I had cancer instead." (After the shock and disbelief of what they said wore off a little, I still really don't have any words or comeback for this one!!! Instead I just shook my head and went on with my day.)

I hope you all got a little smile out of the responses that I want to give to people when they say these things and please know that I'm not at all hurt by some of the crazy things that come out of your mouths.  I just thought I'd share some of the things that might be better left unsaid in the future as you deal with people that have cancer.

AND since I'm giving you examples of things NOT to say, here a few tips for appropriate things to say!

BIGGEST, BESTEST ADVICE I CAN OFFER: 

 ACT NORMAL!!!

 

I'm still the same bratty, loud mouth, crazy person as I was with hair.  "Hey brat, how ya doing?" with a nice (GENTLE-some days I'm pretty achy) hug and "I'm thinking about you/praying for you!" Would be splendid:) 

 

If you like scarf or beanie, feel free to say it.  If you have questions about the scarf, the hair, the treatments, feel free to ask. 

 

BUT, if you think I look like a genie, gypsy, pirate, syrup spokesperson, or that I'm wearing a diaper on my head, please feel free to keep it to yourself!

3 of 8 done!! The doctor could feel a noticeable difference in the mass (smaller and more squishy like boobies are suppposed to be) and the lymph nodes are small enough she had to search for them!) Thanks for the pillow and blanket, Martha!! Heidi's joining us for the next round, so I'm sure she'll pretend she's a paparazzi and there will be more photos;)

 

I wore the wig for the first time when I went to visit with Sarah Beth Blakely and Ashley Lowry.  They both liked it just fine, but I only left it on for the first hour of our visit and it didn't feel right so I put the diaper back on my head!

 

TOTALLY WISH CANCER WOULD GET CANCER AND DIE!!  Thanks, Becca!

Some of the most amazing women I know!



Awesome birdhouse from Rich Harman

 Lots of other goodies, but sometimes I don't feel like snapping photos...or moving off of the couch:)  One of Lilly's girlfriends bought her an angel pin and I got the same one from one of my friends so she thinks that's pretty awesome and wore it to school today:) (Thanks, Carrie Kutchenriter and Kelly Biggert)

OH, and my sneaky friends had an oven delivered while we were at treatment last week!!!! I was complaining that my stupid oven decided it doesn't want to work and poof, there's a new one!!

And my mother-in-law came over with a bag full of much too generous goodies from her bunco group.  I promise that someday I'll get around to writing thank-you's!! But, seriously, you guys are too much!! (And I hope my bunco crew is as super awesome in wait, how many years have you been playing together?? 100?? :))

 

SOOOOO VERY BLESSED.

 

Lots of love,

 

Honored to share this piece by Matthew Thieroff

2013 Memorial Day Speech presented by Matthew Thieroff 

​Thank you. I am extremely honored and proud to speak with you all today.  When I started to write this speech, I was finding it very difficult to get all of my emotions out onto paper.  I realized the only way to give a heart felt Memorial Day speech was to tell you my story, to tell you what this day means to me.  For most, it’s a three day weekend filled with barbeques and picnics.  For others, it marks the beginning of summer and the opening of swimming pools.  And for some, it holds a much more personal significance.  Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces.

​

As a kid, I knew what Memorial Day stood for, but today, it holds a much stronger meaning to me.  In 2001, at the age of 20 years old, I enlisted into the United States Army as an infantryman.  I signed up to earn some college money and to begin my adult life.  There was part of me that wanted to serve my country, but I did so for mainly selfish reasons.  Serving in the Army had many great benefits. I had a steady pay check, a free place to live, and health insurance.  I would go to work, train, and then come home to my wife.  In August of 2001, my oldest son Logan was born. Life was great. And then, out of nowhere, our country was attacked on 9/11.  It was at that moment that I understood the oath that I had taken.  I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  I knew what was going to be asked of me, I was going to be leaving for war.  

​

In February, 2003, I left my family to take part in the invasion of Iraq.  Saying goodbye to my family was very difficult, but I was ready to answer the call.  I was young, well trained, and in the company of great men and women. I wasn’t scared, I felt invincible.  Nothing could happen to me, right?  That mindset changed very quickly.  With every explosion and gun shot, the fear level rose… but so did my respect for my fellow soldiers.  Regardless of how dangerous the mission or how scared a soldier was, they answered the call.  Day in and day out, I saw people risk their lives for others. On one mission, a good friend of mine, SPC Brandon Olson, was hit in the heal with shrapnel from an IED.  We started taking fire from many buildings, but couldn’t see anyone.  A few soldiers ran to our wounded friend and moved him to a safe place, shielding him from fire while they placed a tourniquet on his leg.  Brandon would eventually have his leg amputated due to infection, but luckily, no one was killed in the attack. As a matter of fact, not one of the soldiers in our company was killed during our year in Iraq. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to see one of my close friends die in battle, but what I can attest to is the level of honor, courage and bravery these men and women exhibit in combat.  How many people do you know that would run into gunfire, sacrificing their lives, for something bigger? I can’t explain how important it was for me to witness these heroes in action.  I can’t explain what it feels like knowing that so many men and women have given their lives in situations similar to this.  I guess some things just can’t be put into words.

In January, 2004, I returned home from Iraq and continued my service at Ft. Carson, Colorado. I made a new home with my family, made many new friends, and was given the position of squad leader. Army life had changed drastically from my first year in the service.  There was more time away from home and much more training.  After all, we were a country at war and more was expected of its soldiers.  During one of my training missions, I sustained injuries to my feet that caused me to see a doctor.  The doctors informed me of numerous injuries to my feet that would prevent me from continuing my service as an infantryman.  I was given the option to either pick a new career in the Army or to be medically discharged.  After much discussion with my family and friends, I decided to leave the Army and get an education.  

​

I then informed my soldiers that I would be separating from the Army.  It is something that is very hard to do.  I trained very hard with these young men, and knew that one day they would be deploying and fighting without me.  But I was very comforted by the news that my friend, SGT Alberto Sanchez, would be taking my place as squad leader.  He was a very motivated and intelligent guy.  I had no worries about the well-being of my soldiers under his guidance.

​

In October, 2005, I was medically discharged from the Army and started to adjust to civilian life back here in Woodville.  I was going to school, working, and spending a lot of time with my family.  One day, I received a call from an old Army friend, Shaun.  I could tell immediately that something was wrong and that he was upset.  He informed me that 4 soldiers that we had served with were killed in action. PVT Chistopher Palmer, PFC Tyler MacKenzie, SPC Joshua Munger, and SPC Benjamin Smith were killed in Bagdad, Iraq, by and IED. I sat there, quiet, not knowing what to say. It was the first time Shaun and I had to experience losing one of our brothers.  Later the next year, on April 13, 2006, SPC Andrew Waits was killed in action by another IED in Bagdad, yet another friend I served with in Iraq.  Anytime you hear about a fellow soldier being killed in action, it takes your breathe away.  It doesn’t get any easier each time it happens.  But this next incident has affected my life more than any.

​

On June, 24, 2006, SSG Alberto V. Sanchez was killed in action by an IED near Balad, Iraq.  My friend and fellow Noncommissioned Officer, who had taken over my position when I departed the Army, was killed leading his troops in combat.  It’s very hard to talk about my feelings of unworthiness, my regret, and all the “what ifs” that deal with the loss of my brother SSG Sanchez.  Rather, I would like to share with you a story that my mother gave to me a few weeks ago.

Our Life is Not Really Our Own

​By: Daris Howard

As Memorial Day rolls around, I am reminded of a story that I heard.  Though the exactness of it I can not confirm, I am assured its basis is quite factual, and its message definitely deserves to be retold.

The story is of a man, Andrew, who was known all his life for selfless sacrifice and good works.  He always stood in defense of the defenseless, and toiled without tiring, standing up for the downtrodden and underprivileged.  As he grew old, and people tried to honor him for his well-lived life of service, he was reluctant to accept the praise and attention that his community desired to heap upon him.  It was then, for the first time, that he told a story that had burned deep in his heart and was hard for him to relate.

Andrew was a young man, thirteen years old and living in Austria, when the Germans invaded.  The Austrians, brave and proud, decided to fight back.  In the town where Andrew lived, the men and teenage boys organized and destroyed a power plant that the Germans relied on to continue their war effort.  The men and boys all knew this would cause great hardship on themselves as well, for they relied on that power plant.  But the thing they had not counted on was the swift and severe retribution that would come from the Nazi invaders.

The next morning, before the sun was even up, trucks rolled into town.  Soon, he sound of marching soldiers was heard in the streets.  The men and boys of the town, twelve years old and older, were ordered to the town square.  Andrew found himself standing in a line with the other men and boys, still trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

The commanding officer berated them, and told them they were fools to think they could stand against the might of the German Army.  He told them they were nothing, and their minuscule efforts would not slow down the German war effort, but it would hurt them because a price was going to be paid for their rebellion.  He then said that every 20th man in line would be shot.

As each 20th man was pulled from the line and marched away, Andrew looked down the line and started counting.  With horror, he realized that he stood in a 20th position.  He trembled with fear as the soldiers moved closer and closer to him, and the shots started to ring out at the edge of town where the unfortunate men were being taken.

As the Germans continued to move down the line, Andrew could see others counting and their eyes turned to him with a look of pity and concern.  Andrew found himself wanting to flee, but too frightened to move.  Even if he tried to run, the soldiers on the trucks, with the mounted machine guns, would cut him down before he could get ten yards.

But then, in the instant that the last man before Andrew was pulled from the line, the Germans turned their eyes away, and Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder.  The hand tightened quickly, and before he knew what happened, he was jerked forcibly over one spot, and the old man who had been standing next to him moved swiftly to switch positions.

Andrew looked up at the silver haired man and the man smiled.  Just before he was taken from the line and led away, the old man spoke quietly to Andrew. “Your life in no longer just your own.  Live it for both of us.”

Andrew watched silently as the old man disappeared from view toward the edge of the village.  His heart jumped as the shots sounded, shots that Andrew knew should have been his own.  In that instant, tears flowing down his face, he determined he would indeed live his life for both of them. From that day he had tried to live so that the unknown old man would have felt his sacrifice was well repaid.

Each time I consider the flags flying by the many graves in the cemetery, thinking back on Andrew’s story, I realized that no one’s life belongs to just them.  Each of us owes a debt to many who have paid prices through hardship, hard work, and even the sacrifice of their lives, from which I have benefited.

 

I want to thank you all for coming today.  Through all the wars and conflicts that this great country has fought, over 1.3 million men and women have given their lives defending our country.  Thousands of families had mothers and fathers; sons and daughters; husbands and wives; and sisters and brothers taken from them… paying the price for the freedom we enjoy today. When we all leave here today, we will be joining our families for cookouts, opening our swimming pools, and preparing to enjoy the summer and the great weather it brings.  Enjoy your time with your families today, but know that it was paid for by our fallen heroes.  Our lives are not really our own.  God bless you all.  Thank you.

In memory of SSG Alberto V. Sanchez 

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2006/187/14733683_115231286521.jpg

101st Airborne. The complex they lived in in Iraq.

Easter Sunday in Iraq

SPC Shaun Muldoon and Brandon Olson.

SPC Brandon Olson first steps on prosthetic.

Be Ready & Cancer Aware

The day after my hair starting falling out in clumps was the worst day for me since my diagnosis.  Not because my hair started to falling out by the handful.  Not because when Camille played with my hair little pieces were flying everywhere.  Not even because I felt like a Mac Truck ran me over.

NOPE. Not any of the things you expect with cancer treatment, but something so much worse. So much more damaging to my life than having to deal with cancer.

"Hello, Laura.  It's Rebecca, did I wake you?"

"Yes, but I've been waiting on your call.  What's the word?"

"Well, your BRCA genetic results are in and as we suspected, you have a BRCA gene mutation.  We're going to need to meet to discuss the results.  Can you invite Heidi to the appointment as well? We'll talk about who else I think you should contact as well at the appointment.  I assume you're going to share the results with your family, correct?"

"Thanks, Rebecca.  I'll give Heidi a call and yes, I'll make sure that the rest of my family is aware."

Thank God I have decided to send the monsters to the babysitters on the Friday following treatment because I needed to be alone.

See, there are a few reasons that I have been so open, honest and public as I share this journey of breast cancer, but the most important reasons are these two beautiful girls. 

 

These two beautiful girls that call me Mommy and tell me that they love me more than I love them, which any mother knows simply isn't possible.  These little monsters that kiss my bald head and have tucked me into bed more often than I've tucked them in this week.  They are the biggest reason that I have shared so openly. 

Mostly because I knew in my heart that this stupid brca gene was faulty even though I hoped and prayed that it wasn't.  Marci bought me a wish necklace shortly after my diagnosis.  I'm sure she thought I would wish my cancer away, never to return again.  I must have gotten a broken wish necklace because my only wish was that this awful, rotten, no good disease wasn't something that I could pass on to my babies.

BUT, it is.

And that's pretty hard to swallow.

A brca gene mutation is something that my children will be screened for when they are 18.  There is a 50% chance that I passed this mutation on to my little monsters.  If Keegan were to test positive for the mutation, it would only elevate his risk of breast cancer slightly.  If the girls were to test positive for the mutation, the odds of developing breast cancer rises from 1-8 to 1-3. 

The genetic counselor mapped out our family history and is suspicious that this mutation is passed down on my father's side.  That's where they want to start testing.  First with Heidi and then my other first cousins and my Aunt.

Heavy, terrible conversations that you don't want to have with people that you love.  EVER.

So, I sat in silence for a while.   I cried for a while.  I felt sorry for myself for a good long minute.

And then I got my game face back on. I texted Heid and called my mom and Aaron.

WHY? 

Because my beautiful babies need to have a few things if they ever have to defeat this beast:

• AWARENESS- They will be tested and screened starting at the age of 25
• CANCER FACTS- They will know what to look for, what to feel for and how to advocate for themselves
• BE READY- They will have all of the tools to fight if it's necessary
• GRACE- They can turn to any page of this blog and see first hand how to choose grace over fear or sorrow or evil

Only with the grace of God have I come to this conclusion.  Only after prayer and reflection and quite a few tears am I able to get to this place.

BRCA gene mutation: BE READY & CANCER AWARE

Knowledge is power and now we have all of the facts.  Early detection is key to survival and I plan for them to live LONG, healthy lives.  So even if my worst nightmares come true, we will be ready.

I will also, every. single. day., pray that none of my babies have to deal with this stupid disease.

I walked into the office the day after drafting this post to ALL of my co-workers telling me about Angelina Jolie...She is looking at the "faulty" gene as BE READY & CANCER AWARE!! 
http://wonderwall.msn.com/movies/angelina-jolie-reveals-double-mastectomy-in-ny-times-op-ed-piece-24886.gallery



 

So much happens in a week

I will try to make this flow, but there are simply too many things that happen in a week these days to concentrate on one subject!

The day that I could honestly say that I felt 100% was the day prior to my next treatment.  Exactly when you start to feel normal, it's time for another treatment.  LOVELY. My mother joined us at Club Chemo this time:

 The roll in the picture below was not there prior to chemo.  Stop sending sweets!  My pants will not fit soon!!

 Attempting to read, but Club Chemo is too loud...I think it's a Runion thing;)  Beautiful blanket that my friend Andrea made:)

 Aaron thinks this is his lucky shirt...so he'll be in this in every picture of him;)

 Lainer always brings food...also contributing to my lack of waist line.

 Jake pretends to be important, but we all know that he isn't;) Loving my "STRONG" socks from the Schnables. I'm packing them for every treatment!

 

 

Day 14 went by and my hair was still holding strong.  I think maybe everyone dreams that they will be the one patient that doesn't lose their hair, but the next day it was coming out in clumps.   Rather than literally pull my hair out, we shaved our heads.  The kids liked to shave Daddy's, but the girls decided they wanted to be the photographers while Mommy took her turn:

 

Everyone tensed up a bit when it was Mommy's turn, but we still smiled through the event:

Keegs LOVED shaving our heads, but when we asked him if he wanted to shave his pretty blond curls he said NO WAY!!!

 

Jake surprised me and played too:

 

Thursday night I was still feeling pretty well, but this treatment decided to test how tough I am.  A little aching for a day or so wasn't enough the first time around.  This time the aching and pounding headache decided it wanted to stick around a few days and be more constant and annoying.  We still managed to function as a family and spent time shopping for Mother's Day.  We attended a wedding and the play "Annie" (Phoebe Jackson played Annie and she was amazing:)) and my father-in-law cooked the most delicious meal for all of us.

 

It's Monday now and I'm finishing this post from my office.  Back to work, it's Monday!  Still not feeling great, but much better than this weekend.   It's quiet in my office and the work is a nice distraction to the racing thoughts in my head.

 

One other thing I need...I know I've been greedy with prayers lately, but I need more.  Friday night I tucked the headache away for a visit with another young mother that is fighting her own battle with the stupid C word.  She has already had a couple major surgeries and starts her chemo on Wednesday.  I'm asking all of my prayer warriors to add her to your prayer list as well.  She chopped 16 inches of her beautiful long hair and is donating it. Please keep her in your thoughts this week as the first treatment is scary! 

 

Many, many BIG BOLD prayers to this beautiful young mother, Rhiannon:

 

 

 

Philippians 4:6

New International Version (NIV)

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

 

At a Loss for Words...

Speechless really doesn't happen to me often, well, honestly, I can't remember many times when I've been speechless. I always have something to say.  Most of the time I don't really care if you want to hear it or not, I say it.

But the events over the last weekend, I really don't have any words for.  When Marci asked me to come over, first she tried to play it off like it was going to be just me and the kids to hang out.  I thought, "Ok, cool.  Aaron's going out with friends, I'd love to hang out with Marc." 

Then Tam texted me and said she was coming home so I asked Marci if Tam could come along and she responded: "Sure, invite your mom, too!"

Immediately, I knew they were surprising me.  I do NOT like surprises.  So, I got bitchy and said something along the lines of:"I know you're having a stupid hat party.  I wasn't born yesterday." 

They went along with it.  "Ok, fine, it's not a surprise and yes a few other people are coming."

I complained to the secretaries at my office that I had to go to a stupid hat party and I still want to throw my wig in the fire (AND AS SOON AS MY HAIR GROWS BACK, I MIGHT, but it would be more responsible to donate it, I suppose;)).

Except only a few people brought scarfs and nobody brought a hat! 

Instead, they brought this cute little tree that I recognized.  I made it for someone else when they were going through cancer treatment.  Only this time it was full of gift cards and VERY, VERY generous donations for ME.

The next day I opened the mail to even more VERY, VERY generous donations...from a couple of friends and people that I have never met before in my life.  People that are friends of friends that wanted to give.  There are many names on the giving tree that I don't know either.  COMPLETE STRANGERS compelled to give in the name of HOPE.

Humble-thankful-blessed-overwhelmingly grateful- these words do not even begin describe the way I feel right now. It is very difficult for me to be on this side of the giving tree.  When someone is having a hard time, I'm always ready and willing to help, but I've never been in the position where I'm the one in need.  

I remember when we gave the giving tree to Ash and Danny and Ash said to me that she doesn't know how she will ever be able to repay the kindness and love that was extended to them during their time in the wilderness.  I told her that she already was repaying everyone: witnessing her attitude, her faith, her smile, that's all the repayment we could ever ask for.  I told her that the next time someone is diagnosed with the stupid C word that they should share their story of triumph over trials and be there to support the next warrior.

I didn't know it would be me.

But it is and now I feel the same way.  How can I ever repay all the kindness we have received?  I have a basket overflowing with greeting cards from people spanning the entire United States.  I have blankets, scarfs, books, bags, pins, bracelets, gift cards, more than half of our insurance deductible PAID, socks and ribbons and hair pretties and journals and COOKIES AND CANDY AND CAKE (I will most likely be the rare patient that gains weight on chemo!!!).  So many reminders of all of the love that is surrounding me and my family during this trial.

And I just don't know if I will ever be able to explain how incredibly grateful we feel to have such an amazing support group.

For once, I am at a loss for words, but with all the love I have to give and from the bottom of my heart:

THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!

 

We spent the beautiful weekend outside and we played hard!! 

Sleeping beauty cuddled with Mommy: Camille

 

Lilly and I read books on the porch

 

Keegers helped plant flowers (Aaron thinks the bush that Jill Bench donated is already growing!!) all day and fell asleep doing a breathing treatment:

 

 Some of the cute things we received this weekend.  LOVE the personalization you picked, Sherry;)

 

Loved working shorter hours last week...lots of extra time to cuddle my monsters

 

Spiritual Retreat with Aaron and many of my favs from church

 

Feeling 100% today...just in time for the next treatment.  I have tugged on my hair a couple times and it's staying in there.  Might get to push the head shaving back a couple days!!  Chemo tomorrow.  Hope and pray that I tolerate all of the treatments as well as the first!

 

 

Sick Cancer Humor #1

WIN: When you're on chemo it shocks your body.  For females, that also means NO "That time of the month".  YES!! Score!  I don't have to think about when I wear white pants.  I can wear them whenever I feel like it!  I'll wear them today!

FAIL: Black polka dot underwear still show in white pants.

Ya win some, ya lose some!

 

I hope my chin hair doesn't grow back.

I hope my chin hair doesn't grow back.

Since people are waiting on me to write now, I'll try to focus long enough to write a post each week. That's been my goal since I started blogging a few years ago, but I'm not making any promises. Right now my mind is in overdrive and picking just ONE topic to write about is kind of difficult!

This week my biggest concern is HAIR LOSS, so we'll go with that.

I'm not a fancy girl. I rarely remember to accessorize (even though I have a ton of jewelry...in my defense it's because a couple friends make jewelry and other people buy it for me). I wear minimal makeup, but ALWAYS wear my mascara because one of my friends will disown me if I don't. 95% of the time I drive to work with my hair sopping wet and throw it in a pony tail or braid after I've been at work for a few hours.

So, it seems like I'm a good person to survive hair loss. My cousin's eyebrows never grew back after chemo. Yes, ALL of my hair for those of you wondering.  My eyebrows and eyelashes and everywhere else I currently have hair-gone!  I HOPE my chin hair doesn't grow back after chemo!! :)

Even though I'm not fancy and I'm not all about hair, I feel pretty confident stating that ANY woman would have a rough time with this. I've only really cried about this small step in treatment with Heid a couple times. For the most part, I'm trying to make it fun and trying to laugh in the face of fear, but in my subconscious, I'm scared.

A couple friends tried on head scarfs when they were babysitting ME and we laughed and laughed at how silly they looked. One has a big head and the other has always had long hair...they looked funny! BUT, this is going to be my life in ONE WEEK. Next Wednesday is the day my doctor said I should shave my head because it will start falling out in clumps. One more week and my pretty highlights will be gone and replaced with a wig, a scarf, a chemo beanie or BALD.

NO HAIR. Even if I don't like to do my hair, that's a lot to swallow.

But, if I want to live, it's necessary, so I invited a few of my friends and my daughters to go wig shopping. Lilly insisted on bringing her friend, Paige, because she knows EVERYTHING about style! So we loaded a couple cars and went to Renee's Survivor Shop. Renee, a breast cancer survivor, was wonderful: calm, compassionate, open and honest.

http://www.rsurvivorshop.com/

She dealt (I use "dealt" in the nicest way possible, because some of my friends (MYSELF INCLUDED) can be a little overwhelming. Especially when we're all together;)) with me and all of my loud, crazy, beautiful friends nicely and placed wig after wig on my head. I tried on one that looked like a golden retriever, one that looked like Joe Dirt and a couple that looked ok. I ended up picking a longer one that I'll be able to braid and put in a pony tail.

Camille is so sweet and loving, but she's a little overwhelmed with all of the cancer attention. She waited until all of my friends left the wig room and hugged me ever so gently. She told me she'd rather have me wear the chemo beanie than the wig. She doesn't think that the wig looks like me, but the beanie looks like me. I don't know yet, but I'm thinking my quiet five year old is probably right. I'll probably wear the scarfs and beanies much more than the expensive wig, but I needed the wig. I need to feel prepared, have my plan of attack ready for next week when Aaron shaves the last of my blond hair off.


Wig shopping and then ice cream: peanut butter-hot fudge-hand scooped milkshakes make any day better!! :)

The wig I picked (still not real sure about it, obviously):

After wig shopping and spending time with my girlfriends and girlies, Aaron asked me how it went. I told him that it was fine and we picked the one we thought looked best, but then I opened the box with the wig in it and started to cry. He hugged me and told me that it doesn't matter what my hair looks like. I'll always be pretty. He reminded me how I do not like to shave my legs and that he'll love me no matter what.

BUT, losing your hair is still difficult. Even if my chin hair doesn't grow back!

My doctor said that some women find it easier to gradually go shorter...so I'm giving it a whirl:

My beautiful cousin texted me after I posted the above picture to facebook: How are you? Fine or fake fine?

The honest answer is somewhere in between. I sat in a dark room for a half hour before I posted the picture. I thought to myself: "It's just hair!" "It will grow back!" "Stop being vain!" "It could be worse." "This is going to cure it!"

And then I was ok.

This morning I did my hair in 3 minutes AND I'm getting used to it. When I looked at my reflection in a city street window I thought, "Ok, I can do this!"

Kiss my ass, cancer! I'm not scared.

But, I won't be sad if my chin hair doesn't grow back!