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It was sort of a fun and terrifying game – small tugs at my hair would now yield a clump in between my fingers. On average, I was up to about 30. I read somewhere the human head has about 100,000 hairs. Well let’s be honest, I was already down a few so a couple thousand pulls should do the trick. Or OR I could just have Beeral’s hair stylist come over and do it the right way.

It definitely wasn’t the funnest experience I’ve ever had. The slow crawl of balding helps you sort of come to grips with it over time and if it gets overwhelming enough, you shave it off. The finality of getting my head shaved out of necessity, not really choice, left me unsettled. I suppose it’s a rite of passage and I should just deal. As my friends frequently remind me, it was coming out anyway.

Going into work was fun. I had only told a few people prior to the Monday. So I decided to blast a note out to a wider audience of co-workers on Sunday night. It’s just so much easier to do it this way than have awkward 1-on-1 conversations about my hair. Unsurprisingly, everyone was so cool and supportive. Some people wanted to talk more about it, others preferred to not mention it and carry on business as usual. Hardly an awkward moment.

2 days ago, I had an oncologist visit followed by treatment #3. Dr. Goodgame, very appropriately named, checked my neck and couldn’t feel any of the lymph node swelling anymore. This is obviously super exciting, though it’s just a physical check. The real test will be the petscan after treatment #4. He’s also taking me off the bleomycin (‘B’ in ‘ABVD’) because of my nagging, phlemy cough. It’s just a precaution and studies show it’s not a critical component of the treatment, so he says. Bleo, as it is affectionately called in the medical community, can cause lung toxicity.

On to treatment #3. The Red Woman’s Elixir makes me nauseous just thinking about it. Just the whole thing and having to get it pumped manually and eating ice. Nasty. Well, I made it worse. I had the brilliant idea of throwing some OJ in my crushed ice! “See look, I made an orange slushy” is literally what I said to my nurse pumping that red crap in me. She looked at me and awkwardly smiled. I think she knew it was an awful move and let me do it anyway.

My taste buds are now shot. I asked Beeral, “have you ever accidentally tasted your ear wax?” Her quick response: “Uh no” and so I quickly respond, “yeah, me neither” False. That’s what my mouth tasted like, with a faint hint of orange. I had a Chi’lantro spicy chicken burrito yesteday and it didn’t taste the same. Then we got out of the house and watched Deadpool last night while Mom and Dad babysat. Great flick. The worst part of the experience was having 1 of my great vices in life – movie nachos in all their fake cheese glory – and even that didn’t taste the same. That’s what I call taste bud rock bottom.

All in all, besides the taste bud thing and the 2-week old cough that my depleted immune system is almost done defeating, I feel great. Nausea has been minimal this time around, as has fatigue and dizziness. Let’s do this! 25% done!

Change of Seasons

Quick post-treatment update:  I am now 2 days removed from my 2nd treatment.  Other than a bit of nausea and lack of sleep, it’s been a cakewalk.  If it’s going to be like this for the next 10, I’m going to kill it.  It won’t be, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

I decided to get a haircut this morning.  I don’t actually know when it’s all going to go (all my reading on the Red Woman’s Elixir says soon) , but I do know my hair is out of control at the moment.  Plus, I’ve got this beard now in full force and it doesn’t blend with my side burns and goatee.

So here I am waiting for them to call my name.  For some weird reason, I decide to gently tug on the hair on the side of my head.  Bad idea.  10 hairs come out.  F – U – C – K.  I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’m not ready.  Crap, I can’t get emotional in a room full of dudes about to get their haircuts, but I can’t help it.  Don’t think anyone noticed.  I do it again, another 10-ish hairs.  So I guess it’s starting.  Awesome.  I text Beeral that it’s time to do some hat shopping.  A few hours and a trip to the Domain later, I’ve got 2 more to add to my growing collection.

It’s just hair.  I shouldn’t care that it’s about to disappear.  But I can’t help but care, despite my mind and my being’s best efforts. Internally, it signifies a physical change and makes what is happening to me more real.  Externally, it signals my plight with the outside world.  The stigma that comes with it, the looks of pity, the questions.  That’s the part I’m not ready for.  Time to get tougher.

The Long and Winding Road

Today is Friday, April 8th. It’s Day 2 of 12 chemo treatment days.  My treatments are every other week for 5+ months, with the last one falling on August 25th. To be exact, start to finish is 151 days including first and last treatment days. August 25th is asterisked, circled, highlighted, and any other thing I can think of to signify my last treatment, figuratively speaking of course (nobody actually uses physical calendars anymore).

My first treatment was March 28th. I was surprisingly not really nervous about what would ensue. I feel like I should have been though. I had no idea how my body was about to react to the chemicals that would course through my body.

I’m doing the ABVD chemo regimen – there are 4 drugs in total, starting with the 4 letters in the acronym and each one having like 19 letters. I already have my least favorites from the little bit I know. The A one is red, comes in a syringe, and requires the nurse to manually pump it through my port.  I have to eat ice for the full 10 minutes to prevent mouth sores.  It also has the interesting side effect of making my pee red (don’t care) but also is the reason my hair will fall out. It’s like I’ve been taking that one for years, ha. Preemptive strikes against my insecurities make me feel better about myself.  But seriously, I’m not ready for all my hair to fall out. Let’s call the A one the “Red Woman’s elixir,” in honor and excitement of Game of Thrones’ Season 6 about to start.  I also don’t like the D one, dacarbazine.  It’s the most likely culprit to make me nauseous and takes a full hour to dispense into my body.  Let’s call this one “Jack the Dripper.”  I swear, I’m staying super positive despite what these nicknames might indicate :)

The first treatment day was actually totally fine. I lounged in my chair, ate my packed lunch, and finally finished the last 5 episodes of Narcos.  That night was a different story.  My body had a very violent reaction to the drugs. I later found out that it was probably the physical manifestation of cancer cells dying inside me. Well there must have been a ton of cancer cells that went bye-bye then.  You name the symptom and I probably had it – headache, nausea, stomach pain, diarrhea, dizziness, shivering….the list goes on. I was inches from passing out on the concrete floor in our downstairs bathroom, but somehow managed to hold it together.

Fast forward to today, April 8th. I woke up singing Sinnerman and Hozier Take Me to Church. Again, I should be more nervous, esp. after the last episode, but I’m just not. Plus I’ve got my friends, acetominophen and ibuprofen, in my back pocket to ward off those nasty symptoms after the treatment is over. Not to mention my anti-nausea drug cocktail.  So bring it!