When you know your hair is going to be completely gone and you know it will happen within the next four days and you are already getting handfuls whenever you run your fingers through your hair, you know it's time to take control.
I texted my soon-to-be 32-year old son, "Hey Brian, would it be too weird for you to shave my head? It's coming out fast and a real pain today. It wouldn't take too long if you could fit it in. Call me."
"I think I could do that. I'll call you in a few and we can discuss."
Excellent, excellent! It was only hours before I could be rid of this shedding mess. In the process, I got to snuggle my 2-year old grandson and watch his playful antics and have some belly laughs over them. Brian carefully shaved my hair into a mohawk style and we got pictures and laughed some more before he finished. Now I feel so much better. The short little stubbles of hair continue to fall out, but the soft pink cap is catching them and it is much easier to cope with the mess that way.
I have unfortunately, once again, mismanaged the constipation aspect of post-treatment days. The anti nausea drug Aloxi is responsible and I should have taken Senekot the night before the treatment not Colace. Oh well, since treatment I've been taking Colace three times a day and 2 Senekot at bedtime for the past two nights. Sooner or later it'll break loose.
All in all, this third treatment does seem to have a different feel, perhaps I've found the secret of embracing breast cancer instead of resenting it. I recently read in a book that the way to welcome difficult things life dishes up is to:
let go of our desire for security and survival
let go of our desire for esteem and affection
let go of our desire for power and control
let go of our desire to change the situation
I often fall asleep at night with these words in my prayers.
Cooking for survival
1 day ago