Hair Today....

Some peachy fuzz-like stuff starting growing on my head right around the time of my last chemo treatment, which means it was starting to grow even while I my body was processing the Taxol. Of course, to balance this out, I've lost most of my eyebrows and eyelashes... (it's all about the yin and the yang of life, right?)

Dennis took a photo of me to post here. At first, Frank and I were hoping I would be a lovely sophisticated silver or white, but it's looking very salt & pepper, so I'm thinking I might dye it in late spring/early summer, when the hair is around an inch long.... The hair is just long enough that some folks (who don't know me) are assuming the look is intentional. Ahem. Well, that's okay, too.

MRI Update: I called ABMG yesterday to follow up on the request for authorization and was told that it would be another five to seven days. Also, the person there indicated that the request was for MRI on both breasts. This strikes me as a mistake and what might be slowing down the process. I called the surgeon's office and left a message that I wanted to ask that he resubmit this request and make it "urgent". I've not heard back from him, so I don't know if he did it and didn't call, or if it's "in their system" or what. Anyway.

My radiation oncologist, meanwhile, had me give my info to her nurse, Donna. She felt that it was very possible that the request for both breasts might slow things down. In any case, they are pursuing the approval from their camp, so maybe between the surgeon's office and the radiation oncology office....? I mean, really. It's been three weeks since Dr. Kuan felt the lump. And I'm waiting for a #*&#$ approval. Ergh. More news when I have it....

(Have you noticed the preponderance of ellipses in this entry? Reflective of my current mood, I'm sure. Just waiting.....)

Wigs, etc.

Sorry for the delay in updating. I've been either working, socializing, or taking a much-needed break to veg.

First up! My co-worker Colleen went wig shopping with me on Thursday. It was quite the excursion.

When I googled for wig shops in San Francisco, the top-rated place that showed in the listings was a place called "Rosalie's". It's way out on Columbus Ave, at the edge of North Beach, almost to Fisherman's Wharf. Colleen and I managed to snag parking right outside the shop (virtually unheard of) and wandered in.

This place was amazing. First, the place was simply jam-packed with stuff. Wigs competed with dresses and accessories for space. There were dress racks suspended from the ceiling--you'd have needed a hook to get anything down. And second, the many styles of clothing and wigs available made me fairly certain that Rosalie's is frequented by our transgender friends. We saw the Liz Taylor wig, as well as the Jaclyn Smith, and even the Dodie Rosecrans--SF socialite--circa 1970.

Anyway. We made our way through the maze of wigs and clothing and started to feel that unless I wanted something truly outrageous, this might not be the shop for me. And then, we rounded the final corner and came across at least 4 wigs that would work perfectly.

The man working the store asked me to sit down in one of the barber chairs situated in front of a mirror, so he could try the wigs on me. (This man was teeny: I'd be shocked if he weighed 90 pounds, truly. And if he is under 70 years old, I'd be shocked. But his hair and moustache are both still jet black, so he's still working it.) He tried on two of the wigs Colleen and I picked out and as he prepared the third, he said that after we were done with these four wigs, he'd like to try one on me that he had picked out. We tried on the four wigs and got two "maybes" out of the bunch. And then he tried on the wig he picked out. Herewith, the "Bobbi" (though you have to imagine that "i" dotted with a heart). Bobbi definitely out-ranked the other wigs and the longer I looked at it, the more fun it was. I mean roots? On purpose? So, we purchased the wig for a *steal*. Quality wigs typically start at $250-$300. When I asked how much the wig was, he seemed to be somewhat embarrassed and whispered, "$65". Um, okay, we'll take it!

To see the other two fabulous wigs I've got, as well as a shot of me sans cheveux, you can go here: Karen's Hair Looks.

I've also got some new chapeaux to show off (including a fabulous hand-knitted cap that looks a bit like a fuzzy blonde fro), but that will need to be another blog entry.

The rest of the week was good. Work got done and then Maggie and I enjoyed The Magic Flute at the SF Opera, along with her friend Siobhan, and her mom (and my friend) Dierdre. We had brunch in the city (Absinthe, for those of you who know SF) and got to the opera for a 2 p.m. show. Nice end to a pretty weekend.

I had my third infusion yesterday and Maggie accompanied me. She missed a few classes at school, but I feel that right now, we have to have some perspective on our overall outlook. She learned, I think, what I'd hoped she'd learn--it's not scary and it's a bit boring. I gave her a brief tour of the cancer center and then we both did a lot of waiting, with the occassional bit of attention. We checked in at 1, and Frank picked us up at 4:45.

Today is Halloween and lucky Frank will be opening the door and handing out candy. I will be firmly esconced somewhere in a prone position, watching trashy DVDs. Or, hmmm, maybe Lord of the Rings.

Oh, and Frank has the best joke of the week. I was telling him that I can't sleep on my right side because that's where the port is. It's uncomfortable to put too much pressure on it, and I'd hate to dislodge anything. So Frank says, (are you ready? It's somewhat nautical in nature) "You can't sleep on your starboard because of your port!" Get it? No? Ah well, you can google it if you're really curious.

And Here We Are Again...

....on the other side. Mostly.

Day + 3 this time is much the way it was last time. My stomach is feeling a bit timid, but I'm drug-free and so feeling pretty good. I'm pounding the saltines and drinking the water, and even better--I'm not doped up on the sofa all day.

Tuesday evening, after the chemo, I was fatigued, but okay. Wednesday I was mostly okay, but fatigued. Thursday I slept and watched DVDs and ate some pretty bland food. Frank made pasta carbonara for dinner, which I enjoyed, but might have been a tad bit heavy for me. I didn't suffer too much, though, so, all in all, a good couple days.

We're lucky enough to be invited to several birthday parties this weekend, but I think we'll be seeing how I feel tomorrow before we make any social decisions for the weekend.

Meanwhile, my hair is mostly gone. I'd say I've lost a good 3/4 of it and it's so very sad looking. :-) I really wish it would just finish falling out so I could be done with it. I'm wearing lovely hats, including this very nice cap that Michael knitted for me (the pic is from before hair loss), and I'm sure the hats would be more comfortable without the pathetic itchy remnants of hair.

My Hair Hurts

I'm not sure how many men will understand what I'm talking about here, but I'll try to describe the current sensation on my head. When you have longish hair, and you wear it one way (combed this way or that) for too long, if you comb it the other way, sometimes the hair follicles hurt a bit. A classic case might be when you have a relatively tight pony tail for a long day and then you let it down and it actually hurts, just a teensy bit.

My entire head feels like that. No, I take that back. The lower back of my head (where the hair is shortest) doesn't really feel all that bad--though it is not without sensation. But the top of my head and the sides... ooof. Anytime I move my hair, it hurts. It's not debilitating or anything, but it is starting to give me a headache.

This started yesterday and it simply reminded me of the other times in my life I've felt that sensation and all I needed to do was give it a good brushing to relieve the discomfort. So I brushed my hair and an hour later, it still hurt. Today, it hurts a little less than last night, but still I have the hint of a headache.

I'm planning to go wig shopping next week. ;-)

A New 'Do

I've decided that I don't really want to wait for my hair to start falling out, and then have a sad couple days with long grey hairs wrapping around my brush, etc. So, I took matters into my own hands (well, and those of Paul, at Festoon). I got a short cut I'm calling my Chemo Cut. To be more accurate, it is, of course, a pre-chemo cut, but I would not be getting it if it were not for the chemo, so I still think it's appropriate.

Okay, and now I'm babbling. :-)

So, ta da! Here I am. Freshly shorn.