I'm baaaaaaaaaaack...and balder than ever!

Okay, that's not really me...she has more hair.

I took an extended holiday break and am back in the saddle again. Okay, I wish I was back in a saddle again. I had my third chemo last Friday (1/2), dragged through the weekend, which included the Indianapolis Colts pulling up lame in overtime and limping back to their stable on the west side. Although the Colts are done for the season, I am rebounding much more successfully than they. I feel pretty well back to my old self now, PTL.

That means I have one more treatment and I'm D-O-N-E. Fine with me. I love my wig. It is warm and mostly comfortable. I am OVER being bald. I get irritated when I pass the bathroom mirror in the morning and see that I am, still bald. I continue to be surprised by it, actually. I suppose you don't get quickly over an entire lifetime of viewing yourself WITH hair. I am glad I had it shaved off and I'm a teensy bit proud that there is still hair on most of my head, albeit stubbly, little blackish hair. I am thrilled that all the hair on my legs fell out! LOL!

I have been careful to remember the warnings of the precious wig ladies, "Stay away from hot ovens and steaming pots!" This has made cooking very entertaining for the kids as I dash around the kitchen flinging my wig onto chair posts so I can lean into the oven to check the cake or whatnot! Then there was #1 leaning in the front door and yelling, "Mom! Grandma is here--put on your hair!"

Sleeping on stubble is a little challenging. I have not struggled with being cold at night, but stubble pokes back as it's wiggled around on the pillow...and I'm surprised at how gently you can scratch your scalp and get the job done. I cannot quit trying to wring out my ponytail in the shower. My hands just automatically go there and do that! But getting ready is a complete breeze. #1 even said she wanted to shave her head and wear a wig because "Mom's hair always looks great!" It's great to have some good memories of this time.

The only "down" thing that is going on is that my fingertips are more sensitive. It has to do with my fingernails, I'm sure. They are not growing and feel very thick and odd. They don't look weird, but I can't use them to pry things open, etc. Then I pinched one in the chicken gate this morning and thought I would cry!

My taste continues to be DULL with a capital Duh...which could be bad as I have a desire to keep eating things, thinking it will make them taste better. A friend bought me several boxes of Altoids as a treat, on the tip of a BC survivor who remembered the tasteless days of chemo. The Altoids are a treat for me, although they taste about like Dentyne--but even that is a treat.

Still have never told my FIL about my diagnosis or surgery, at all. Over Christmas we were all gathered at my parents' house and he looked at me and said, "I still can't get used to your hair." I just laughed and said, "Neither can I!"

Thanks everyone again for your prayers and good wishes. I got one of my favorite things on Christmas Eve--a seed catalog! It'll keep me dreaming through these last few weeks of yuck.