Medical Stuff, Cici, Hair-related Awesomeness

Only four days have passed since my last post and yet it seems I have several blogs worth of information to report. I may have to take a page from the book of the Spaniard in Princess Bride:

"Let me 'splain. No. There is too much. Let me sum up."

Medical Stuff
Thursday I had the echo cardiogram. It was uneventful, but I enjoyed conversing with the tech who worked with me. She has a daughter who is on a full ride soccer scholarship at a college in Texas, remarkable for the fact that you have to travel 25 miles to get to the nearest bar.

Friday I went to Enloe. First I got blood work done by a 29 year old who had a peculiar marking around her arm. I asked her about it and she said she is in stage 9 of 15 of tattoo removal. It had been a barbed wire ring she got when she was 17. She says she lives her mother's 'I told you so' every single day. Apparently each session of removal is about 10 times more painful than getting a tattoo. It was interesting to hear her talk about it.

Then I was to have abdominal and pelvic ultrasounds so they could see what the deal was with my left ovary. What an ordeal! I had forgotten to drink the requisite 32 ounces of water one hour prior to my appointment, so I was given a styrofoam cup, pointed in the direction of the drinking fountain, and told I would be called back shortly.

HA! (But it's my own fault.)

Thinking I would hurry things along, I drank three glasses of water. Bad decision. Before long, I had to pee so bad that even the other people in the waiting room were rooting for me to get called in next. At one point, a medical type came out and asked for "Don," and I jumped up thinking it was the common mispronunciation of my name. But as it turns out, Don was a tall, gruff man with cowboy boots and a cane. I am hard pressed to think of a time in my life when I have been as disappointed as I was in that moment.

Eventually (90 minutes had gone by since the start of my appointment) I could wait no longer, and I left to find a bathroom. On my way to it (which was slow going, since I had such a full bladder), I ran into the tech who was on her way to get me. I told her there was no way I could have the exam without first relieving myself at least a little bit. She gave me the okay to "let a little out." Letting just a little out was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. But it made things bearable, and then I underwent the procedures.

Here again, I enjoyed conversing with the techs. The one who did my abdominal scan is the mom of a two year old boy who is on a pilgrimage to India with his grandparents to undergo a religious ritual before receiving his first haircut. With the tech who did the pelvic scan (which I lovingly refer to as the 'dildocam') I discussed the profession of sonography. I learned that training takes about two years post high school and that starting pay hovers around $30/hour plus great medical benefits.

After my lengthy and rather intimate encounter with the pelvic wand, I was dismissed to the restroom where I was finally able to void. I literally took a picture of the relief on my face as it went down.

Felt. So. Good. To. Finally. Let. Go.

At my appointment for chemo orientation specific to me today (Monday), I was told that what they saw on my ovary was a fluid filled cyst measuring 1.6 cm. They said these come and go and are usually nothing to worry about. But to be thorough, The Mazj has referred me to a gynecologist for further looksees. I am at least relieved to hear no one thinks it is related to my canser in any way. The results from the BrCa gene test are still MIA.

My appointment today was not with The Wizard of Mazj himself, but we snapped a pic as we passed him in the hallway. I didn't quite catch him in mid guffaw the way I'd hoped, but here he is with my main man.

The men in my life.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) I will have my port put in. Nicole tells me it is no big deal. Because I will be getting my first infusion the very next day, they will install a needle and tubing under the dressing so that Wednesday, when they do my first infusions, they won't have to puncture skin that isn't yet healed.

In my orientation I learned that I should feel completely normal on the day of and the day after my chemo infusion, but that I'll probably be pretty wiped out on days three and four. Then I should rally for a normal seven to ten days before the next infusion. They seem to have all the bases covered as far as side effects go. I'll have anti-nausea meds infused before getting my chemo drugs, and more on hand in pill form should the need arise at home. They educated me on preventions and remedies for mouth sores and excretory issues, and gave me very specific protocols for certain serious symptoms should they show up.

I have to admit that today it seems to be getting real for me. I've been experiencing so much positivity and awesomeness lately that I haven't taken the time to shake in my boots just a little about chemo therapy.

A Visit from Sassy Cici!
So Friday afternoon, my dear friend Cici (the angel who is doing the Avon Walk) drove up from Brentwood to spend a power packed 21 hours with me. It is only the 2nd time we've seen each other since we were in high school. She brought her adorable four-year-old daughter Leighton, who was a very sweet friend to my Sophie Sue. Cici also brought a very cute chemo kit for me, filled with fun things to cheer up the infusion center. A belly dancing drink holder, a headphones-equipped beanie, fake mustaches, a bright pink feather boa and other goodies are sure to be a hit come Wednesday!

Friday night we had a game night with the Norris/Traore family and Cici was a fantastic addition to the festivities. She learned to throw down a mean Scopa! It was a thrill to me for my worlds to collide a la George Costanza as my dear friends Suzie and Cici got to know and love each other.

Suzie has a past life as a hair stylist. Apparently she practiced in a day and age that involved violent, rather painful back-combing. I have been close friends with Suzie for around five years and I have never seen her whip up a frenzy like she did on my head that night. She's got skills! She did me up 80s style in a dual tribute to my last night with my own normal hair and my 1980s BFF Cici.

Smiling through the pain.

Cici and Dawniebud, just like old times!

80s me (with rabbit ears by Knox).

Suzie, kissing me better after inflicting pain.

As you know from my last post, I took a vote to see which of three crazy hairstyles I should choose for my last few weeks of owning hair. Counting the votes on Facebook was fun, and the winner was The Rainbow Connection by a nose. But in all honesty I chickened out at the last minute and opted for the tamer short and sassy cut with pink highlights thrown in. I decided if I'm going to be in bed feeling sick, I'd rather not see a skiwampity rainbow in the mirror on the way to the toilet.

Saturday morning saw me and five friends (now dubbed the Coif Posse) in Cyd and Co. hair salon for the transformation. One of the posse was photographer extraordinaire Jodi Meier, who was behind the camera and therefore doesn't appear in the photos :(. Also not pictured are Robin Cook and her daughter Mokie, who had to leave before the group picture was taken, but who were very much a part of the action.

It begins.

Pink but not pink enough, so I go under heat.

Toodle-oo to the old do.

The cut!

The color!

You've heard of "hat in hand?"

The Coif Posse (minus two)

Thank you, Nicole!!

Coif Posse banter was plentiful and witty. I wish I could transcribe it here. But just this one tid-bit might suffice. Nicole was trying to remember the name of the place where she had her breast tattoo done. Jodi offered, "Ta-Ta-Toos?" And Robin countered, "Tat for Tit?" Good times!

Cici and I finished up our time together at a quaint downtown bistro and gabbed our hearts out. It was so wonderful to reconnect in person with this woman who has so seamlessly found her way back into my life and my heart---just where she started out all those years ago, and just where she belongs.

Other Hair Related Awesomeness

On Sunday I came in a little late to Young Women because I had borrowed a chubby-cheeked baby to rock to sleep during Sunday School. I came into the back of the YW room and tuned in to the announcements, but soon I noticed that all the girls were wearing pink clip-in strands of hair. I looked at Jen (the coolest YW leader in history) and mouthed "What's all this?" She mouthed back the simple word "You." I lost it.

Is canser supposed to be this wonderful?

One of the resources that was introduced to us today at our specific chemo orientation was the American Cancer Society's wig program. We were given an address and thought we'd go check it out after we got back to Chico. My expectation was that we would take a look around, fill out some paperwork and then wait for an appointment or a fitting or some other kind of red tape. But nope. We walked in, tried a few out, and walked out with a winner! We also brought home two beautifully hand-knit hats that were donated by talented people who took the time to do GOOD in the world. I am so impressed with the goodness of people!

Fun with the wig cap.

Business in front . . .

Party in the back.

Pageboy action. Dave says he likes to watch Downton Abby, but doesn't want to sleep with it.

The winner!

A new version of the old me!