Wilkommen and sayonara

Lots going on around here--let me just say that when I have been whining and wishing for hair, I did not intend for hair to return to MY UPPER LIP! I think you should get to avoid that forever once you have had parts of your body removed/replaced. There is hair on my head. Each of my children have commented on it separately. It mostly looks colorless, although that cannot be the complete truth, since I notice a "five o'clock shadow"ishness to the top of my head. And today, before church, I swear it looked a little "spotty" for lack of a better term. I've been afraid to look since then.

And there is hair on my legs and I still have a numb armpit, which makes shaving a daredevil activity!

My fingernails, on the other hand, seem to be going the way of the dodo. More and more of them are "letting go" as it were. Lifting themselves off and taking on a yellowish hue. Ick. I suppose it didn't help that I washed the pony's tail yesterday with no gloves on. Equine hygiene is high on my list, here.

I have got to get walking now, as exercise was very high on the list of Ways to Avoid Recurrence, in the book I just finished, Anti-Cancer, A New Way of Life. Cutting back on sugar is also big and I will be wrestling with that.

I am so thankful to be mucking my own stalls. I know that's an odd thought, but I think it everyday. I remember asking my surgeon how soon I would be back to my old habits and he promised by the holidays (past). And thankfully, he was right. I can lift and carry and work just like always--WHAT A BLESSING! I know breast surgery has changed so dramatically within my adult lifetime. I'm so glad I got to come in at the better end of that arc.

I will be having my exchange surgery sometime in the next month, I think. Where they replace the soft tissue expanders (that were inserted in my original surgery), with saline or silicone implants. I can't really call them permanent implants, because no implant lasts forever. I hate the thought of having surgery again, but it will be nice to get one more thing out of the way. This is outpatient.

The saline/silicone decision is a big one and I can't seem to find a definitive answer to satisfy me. I'll probably go with saline, although what I've seen makes me nervous, about them being water bags and also "hard". All the implants have silicone outer shells, so no matter what, you are putting silicone inside you. That doesn't worry me too much.

With the silicone implant, a rupture is difficult to determine. Sometimes you have to have an MRI to confirm it. With saline, a rupture is immediately noticeable--a lot like a flat tire on a bike--get the picture. At the surgeon's office they call it a "social emergency". Great.

No matter what, they'll never be as good as nature. And you know what, I miss the old ones. They weren't perfect, that's for sure, but they had some "life" to them. They squished and were comfortable. I've even had to learn to sleep differently, because these babies don't move, even a little. The good part is that stairs and running are no problem.

Being the bionic woman has its trade-offs, just like anything else.

MUST READ--do not pass go--Head straight to the library

My precious Aunt Paula, who came to cook and clean and love my children while I had surgery last October, sent me a copy of a newspaper article from her town paper. It was an interview with Dr. David Servan-Schrieber, a clinical professor of psychology, who found his own brain tumor 17 years ago. It was cancerous.

The interview was headlined, "Can you really prevent cancer?" which is a bit of an overstatement, but attention-grabbing nonetheless. The interview was interesting enough that I requested my library purchase Dr. Servan-Schrieber's book, Anti-Cancer, A New Way of Life. They did and I have just finished it.

Everyone needs to read this book. Everyone. It's not a hocus-pocus--you-can-prevent-cancer book. It's an interesting story about taking control of what you can control and the power of the human body. How our modern lifestyles have aided us in supressing our bodies' abilities to defend themselves and how we can alter our "terrain" in our favor.

I could go on and on, but I'd rather you take the time to find the book and read it firsthand. Anti Cancer, A New Way of Life

Cancer patients and survivors--especially breast cancer, prostate cancer, colon cancer, throat cancer and ovarian cancer are especially mentioned. I would like to buy a copy to give my oncologist at my next visit. Dr. Servan-Schrieber mentioned several times about his own oncologists never mentioning diet or exercise, although there are studies that demonstrate absolute results from both...

There are lists of good foods, exercise info regarding yoga and karate, and meditation and stress management.

I will tip you off that the "big three" foods that make a difference are: broccoli, green tea and the spice turmeric (which must be mixed with black pepper to be absorbed.)

One of my favorite baldies...

I've gotten over the anger of being bald. I've gotten over the whole idea of being bald. I can feel the wind blow through my less-than-full peach fuzz (which isn't peach). While an enjoyable sensation, it still brings a little mourning with it.

I don't remember not to scratch my head vigorously until it's too late. I don't remember not to wring out my pony tail in the shower, even after all this time. And I anxiously await my new growth. The bank teller taking my house payment yesterday had beautiful gray hair. While I'm sure it would be a big adjustment to see myself with a full head of gray hair, I'll just be glad to see myself with a full head of hair, period.

I went outdoors yesterday without wig or hat. Just sunglasses. Handyman was taken aback for a moment. We realized it was a "first". First bald day of the season. I glanced at myself in the window of the car.

Since #1 has had strep throat all weekend, we have watched 963 episodes of Star Trek:Next Generation. (Thankfully, season three.) I remembered that there are bald people I really enjoy seeing.



I told the girls about how when I first saw Jean-Luc Picard, I was appalled that they would cast a bald man as captain of the Enterprise. I was disappointed! How could a bald man be masculine enough to carry off such a role? But I was interested in the series enough to stick with it, even so.

And what did I learn? How lacking in taste I could be. Bald is beautiful, Baby!

My command for my hair? "Engage!"

glacial change

That title does not mean that I do not appreciate my situation. I feel great, absolutely 100% me--which means tired. My hair is truly growing. But it will be a long time until anyone can appreciate it besides me.

My fingernails continue to entertain and embarrass me. The original "smashed" marks on four of them are growing out ever so slowly. And now you can see they all look yellowed and ridge-y. The index fingernail on my left hand is detached to about halfway down. And now there is dirt under the nail, halfway down, where even dental floss can't reach it. Yuck. It's sort of a silt line. Very appetizing at dinner or when meeting new people.

Today I notice that the thumbnail on that hand also has what looks like a little air bubble underneath it. That is how the index fingernail situation started out. I'm wondering if it too is going to give up the ghost. Frankly, I'm okay with that. It is a continuous reminder that the meds did their job and now they are done. As these nails grow out and get trimmed away, I will be emerging from my old shell too.

Hopefully with hair!