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This is going to sound so stupid. I feel so stupid…

I just got home after a very long day (I went out for a bit after work), and the first thing I mindlessly did was pull off my wig and toss it on the couch. I rubbed my head a million times, all over, as it was hot under all that hair! I then went about my business, flipping through the mail, checking my e-mail, glancing at facebook, grabbing some leftovers from the fridge.

My hunger subsided, I grabbed my book and headed to my bedroom. (Yes, welcome to my exciting life.) I threw the book on my bed, reached up to take my necklace off and turned to my bureau. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze for a minute before breaking down in tears. I forgot. I simply forgot I was bald.

All day long when I saw myself in a mirror, I had shoulder-length brown hair. As I walked tonight in Harvard Square and caught my reflection in the storefront windows, I saw myself with hair. All day it was annoying me, getting in my eyes and making me sweat in the humidity. I couldn’t wait to get home and tear it off my head. And even when I got home and did take it off, it still didn’t register in my mind what it actually meant until I saw myself in my bedroom mirror.

It’s been two months now. I shaved my head (because my hair was falling out so fast) on June 30. And I don’t think I will ever get used to it or actually like it. But sometimes I think it’s actually better for me just to be bald most of the time – to make myself get used to it. To force myself to face my reality. To remind myself that I actually am sick and I shouldn’t always push myself so hard, so I don’t overdo it. But I long to be normal so much that I can’t help but put on one of the wigs to play dress up and trick myself into thinking I am a regular thirty-something girl who just blends in with the crowd – not one who people stare at because they’re not used to seeing a bald woman.

I guess there is a time for both. A time for remembering and a time for forgetting. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much each time I’m jarred back from my fantasyland…

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The other night my friend Herb told me about his recent trip to Florida and how surprised he was at how much his ailing father had changed. His mother hasn’t been straight with him on the phone and has been continuing to basically live their lives the same without accommodating for the changes in her husband. As I listened, it occurred to me that it has nothing to do with his mother being mean, neglectful or not loving his father. It’s BECAUSE she loves him so much that she just doesn’t want to face it. She doesn’t want to see how he’s changing and how frail he is, how much help he needs. She wants him to be the same man she fell in love with, the same man she married. Maybe she really can’t see the changes. It is her blind spot  – don’t they say love is blind?

Then I realized: that’s how a few people are with me. It’s not that they don’t love or care about me that they completely ignore the fact that anything is different about me, maybe it’s that they do love me that it hurts them to see me this way and just refuse to face and deal with it. I am still hurt by how they now treat me, but this new perspective helps me understand them a little bit more, and at least makes me feel like maybe I do matter to them.

And then I had another revelation: that’s actually what I am doing to myself. I still get shocked when I look in the mirror. I still cringe when I see pictures of myself bald. I just went for a run (if you can even call what I’m doing running) and got frustrated with myself that I couldn’t even do the whole 3 miles of one minute run and one minute walk – sometimes I had to walk for two or three minutes before doing another minute of running. I don’t want to face that I don’t have hair any more. I don’t want to see that the steroids and eating to ease the nausea are making me pack back on the pounds. I don’t want to be tired after a few minutes running. I want to be the me I was in February…

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Phil was right – you can do anything once. So I did get through the last round, at least so far. I am not feeling great, but not horrid either, and for that I am very thankful! After feeling similar last time and then crashing later, I am taking it easy and being cautious.

I did smile for real once the chemo party got started, as you can see in the pics. Not only did we celebrate the last of the worst chemo cocktail, we celebrated Vanessa’s birthday with a yummy cake made by Tara. And while he’s not in the pictures because he had to leave a bit early, Nick was with us for the first part of our celebration, too – I couldn’t ask for a more loving, supportive son. I am very lucky.

And yes, also as you can see from the pictures, I tried embracing the blonde a bit to see if I could get used to it. Not exactly my favorite, but I will be happy with my real hair no matter how it grows in! Just to have my own again will be so nice! I got encouraging news, both from my oncologist, who said hair grows in rounds, so some parts will grow at certain times, and then other parts at other times, and then from a fellow cancer survivor who said that her hair began growing in between rounds 3 and 4 of A/C and through Taxol, and is now up to 2″ – so maybe I will stop having Nick shave my head and see what happens… maybe I will have some hair before the end of the year!

I also got my new schedule: I have three weeks off and will start Taxol once a week for 12 weeks on Tuesday, September 4. Then I will be able to work every Monday, have treatment Tuesday, and hopefully be able to work Wed – Fri each week – at least Thurs and Fri – but we’ll see how it goes… Then I should have my last one Nov. 20 and will truly have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving!!!

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