Saturday, October 23, 2010

I have hair.

At first I thought I might be imagining that my hair is growing back. There has been a very sparse little bit of invisibly pale prickly stubble this whole time, and within the last couple of weeks I noticed it felt softer and maybe more densely populated, but I wasn't sure...and it just seemed too soon. I was only halfway through the Taxol. But people commented on it, and now it's unmistakeable. I have hair. It isn't even invisibly pale anymore - this week it's darkening up a little, so I'm guessing it's going to come back as my previous natural mousy brown (though I hadn't seen that color in years, having been a boxed redhead since college).

I guess I'm supposed to be excited about this, but I'm not really sure how I feel about it. I've gotten used to being bald, and this fuzz sticking out of my head is not particularly flattering right now. But as soon as it's long enough that my scalp is not visible through it I plan to stop wearing headcoverings to work, and that will be awfully nice. I love my wigs and I do have a lot of fun coming up with creative scarf wraps, but by the end of the day I can hardly stand that feeling of something on my head.

Truth is, it probably isn't about the hair at all. I find the bald look kinda striking & sexy, but the super-short pixie will be, too. What feels weird is that this signals the ending of this phase of my treatment. It's a good thing, but it's also scary. Going to chemo every week is doing something, and I have a lot of lovely people looking out for my health in a very tangible way. I'll still have a couple of follow-up appointments in December (including the dreaded MRI, yech), and then I'll move on to radiation next year (5 days a week for 6 weeks), but after that my appointments will get less and less frequent. That's a good thing, right? Yet there's something so comforting about the chemo routine. It's as if the cancer can't come back because I go to the hospital every week.

3 comments:

  1. I can understand what you mean about the routine being comforting and that you know its getting taken care of when you are getting Chemo. I hope that it gets it all and when you are weaned of these visits it will be because you will never have to them again!!
    Sending hugs and prayers your way!
    Akasha (Stephanie)

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  2. Chandani, Am I using the right name?? If not sorry. Great post. I am envious about the hair and I also totally get it that you are feeling apprehensive about what growing hair signifies -moving on past chemo treatment. I'm at the same point, (no hair yet, but just past chemo)and it feels really strange. I think I need a support group now so I can talk to other people about this "new normal." So many new emotions to deal with, we just have to give ourselves time to do that I guess. www.nancyspoint.com

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  3. Finishing treatment is a double-edged sword. It means you're one step closer to hopefully killing all the cancer cells; you're feeling stronger and on your way to finding your new normal. The flip side is there's no longer the "big guns" killing cancer cells and you're on your own. Wait till the doctor says, "Go live your life. I don't need to see you anymore, because odds are, if your cancer returns, you'll find it before I will." Scary. In addition, six months ago, I finished my five-year course of Arimidex. You want to talk about feeling like you're out on the ledge by yourself! I would have taken Arimidex forever, if they'd let me. Achy joints and all. At least I felt like I had a superpower helping me. Now I realize I'm the superpower and my weapons are diet, exercise and God.

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