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Wig party

Posted in Cancer, chemotherapy, Decisions, Denial, family, hair, Planning, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 19, 2012| 6 Comments »

Today definitely got better than my early morning and T ride to work, which is when I wrote that last post. Many of my closest friends and family joined me at my afternoon wig fitting at Dana-Farber. A picture tells a thousand words, right? So I posted a slideshow below of pictures Tina took during the fitting. Yes, it was hard (teared up at one point, but held strong – and thank you, V, for telling me you’re proud of me – way to make me teary again!), but they all kept me smiling and laughing. Hard not to, with some of those wig choices! I was at times:

  • Kim Kardashian
  • Snooki
  • A retired high school secretary
  • Alivia (we took a pic of me and Nick with another camera, Livy – we’ll send it to you!)
  • Jennifer Garner in Alias
  • A Russian spy
  • Me in 8th grade

I’m sure I’m missing some, but you get the idea. It was fun. And I picked one. And it’s perfectly nice. But it’s not me. I never thought I’d be the type to just go bald and live with it, but I very well may. By the time we got to dinner, I already had the wig tied back in a pony tail. And first thing when I walked in the apartment, I threw it on the table. It feels like a hat. Hard to get used to.

But maybe I will. Maybe I’ll get more. A blond one. A long one. The American Cancer Society has a non-profit wig site which is much more affordable (my insurance covered this first one, thank goodness) and maybe I’ll embrace it and have fun. Maybe test different ones at local bars and see which draws the most attention… It’s not like people who see me every day, like folks at work, will think a wig is my real hair anyway, so why not change it like I change my shoes?

For now, while I still have my own hair (albeit very short), I think that’s what I’ll go with. And we’ll see how I feel each day when I wake up. Because I think that’s all I can do for right now.

But thank you, thank you, thank you, to all who joined me today (especially Hannah, Allegra, Sydney and Nadia – I know this is all very strange for young girls!) and made me laugh and smile, I love you all and so appreciate you taking your afternoon for this! And thank you to those who wanted to join us but weren’t able, both near and far, you were with us in spirit and thought and I hope you laugh at the pictures… xo

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p.s. In between the wig fitting and dinner, I visited Dr. H and got my next expansion – a few more ounces in each breast. Hey: it’s the beginning of cleavage! Very happy to be growing in that area, but already starting to feel the pain. Should be a fun few days – but it’s worth it!

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Body chronicles

Posted in Cancer, chemotherapy, hair, recovery, tagged , , , , , , , on June 19, 2012| Leave a Comment »

7:30 a.m. Tuesday

Up two pounds, four pimples and one mouth sore. Down a bit of hair. I don’t want to seem like I’m complaining and I don’t want people to feel bad for me. I just feel the need to document my changing body through this ordeal. So I think I’m going to have a log on the side or top of this blog to track the changes – even though what I’d really rather do is ignore them! But I think that’s probably going to become harder and harder as I see it every time I look in the mirror and I taste it in my metallic mouth and feel it in my queasy stomach. Wish I could be one of those people who loses weight during chemo but instead it looks like all the weight I ran to lose is coming right back thanks to the steroids. Good thing I didn’t get rid of ALL my bigger clothes! On the up side, today I will gain a few ounces in each breast and hopefully find a wig to cover my soon bald head…

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Am I ready?

Posted in Alone, Cancer, chemotherapy, Decisions, family, Home, radiation, recovery, work, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2012| 2 Comments »

I asked to go back to work early. Was it the right thing? Who knows. It is how I am programmed. If I’m not in bed, I should be at work. Even as a child, when it was snowing really bad out but school wasn’t called off, my mom would tell me I could stay home anyway. But I wouldn’t – if school was in session, I was supposed to be there. People would claim to be sick to stay home from school or work, but that’s something my mom always warned me not to do – don’t ever lie and say you or anyone else is sick, or it might come true – simply bad karma (although I don’t think she used that word). So I never did.

I know, I know, I am sick. But I am off the painkillers and don’t take naps every day any more. I now feel well enough to leave the house, to shop, to go to dinner, to walk around the city (as my doctor’s have encouraged me to do – the healthier I am going into chemo, the better it will be for me). And if I feel well enough to do those things, why not go to work? Nick reminded me I was told I should take a minimum of six weeks, up to 12, to recover and I’ve only been out five. (I can’t even believe it’s only been five weeks – it feels like surgery was a lifetime ago.) But I think I can do it. And want to do it – for many reasons:

  • I love my job. I like what I do every day, the people I work with, our mission. It makes me happy. I miss it. And I feel guilty not being there (even though I know I shouldn’t).
  • Work distracts me from the cancer. Thinking about chemo. And going bald. I don’t want my life to be all consumed with it, although I know I can’t hide from it either.
  • I only have a total of 13 weeks of short-term disability at full pay. I would really love to stay in that and not slip to long-term disability (60% pay), which would make life difficult. And with at least one more surgery where I will be out one to two weeks and not knowing how I’m going to feel or how long I’ll need to be out each round of chemo and during radiation, I need to conserve my time.

I know I can’t let Workaholic Amy take over – I will need to take it slow (and know my colleagues and bosses will support this) and listen to my body, so that I can be strong and healthy through chemo. I will not be working my normal crazy hours. And I am actually not allowed to lug my laptop back and forth on the bus and T. I will be smart about this. I will pace myself – as Nick keeps reminding me to do. I will balance work with what I need to do for my health: continue physical therapy (I can now raise my hands straight up to the ceiling, sleep on my side with only a little pain and only take ibuprofen a couple of times a day rather than 24×7), go to all my doctor’s appointments, get plenty of rest, try to teach myself to eat right and exercise as much as I can.

So physically I think I can do it. And mentally I know it will distract me. Otherwise, I am nervous. I feel kind of like I did in September 1991 when I returned to high school for my senior year and was nine months pregnant. I remember walking in and down the hall, my red blazer barely buttoning around my giant belly. Mike, Jay and Mike were with me, both to support and to protect me, as I was scared of the looks I would get and the whispers around me. I know this isn’t the same, but I still feel somewhat like the circus freak show. I just want to be normal. And treated normal. It’s times like this I wish I was a little more private about my life so people wouldn’t know I had a bilateral mastectomy and cut my hair because soon I will be bald. Yes, I know, ironic, as I’m typing this into my blog. But I am doing that because I know this will help others who are going or will go through the same thing as me.  And if nothing else good comes out of this stupid cancer thing, I hope I am at least able to help a few people in this way.

So am I ready? I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out…

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