Embracing Baldness!

I LOVE being bald. Yes, I know, pretty weird thing for someone blessed with a thick mass of untameable curls that she used to hate but grew to love, but honestly I really like this new look. And I’ll tell you something – having no hair makes getting up and out of the house a breeze. I actually take quicker showers than my husband!

Peter, godblesshim, having become an instant parent to four teenagers some years ago, came up with a bizarre rule called The Two Minute Shower. His attempts to turn the entire household into TTMS followers met with dismal failure. My three girls would simply give him The Look as they trailed steam and wet towels. My son, who should have been more receptive to the concept being of the same species as Peter, just grunted and tried to wrestle him to the ground. As the wife, I paid no attention to P’s quaint little quirks. But these days I’m not only a convert to TTMS, I'm its best practitioner. With no hair to wash and condition or legs to shave, two minutes is longer than I need.

After I’d shaved my head and become a regular in the infusion room at Norwalk Hospital, I discovered that walking around au naturel was not the norm at all. In fact, I was the only one without a wig or scarf! Mind you, I’d started off wearing hats and scarves, mainly to keep my head warm but also because I didn’t want to make on-lookers uncomfortable. But there came a day when keeping my head warm was the last thing I wanted, and I didn’t give a hoot what anyone thought.

My step-daughter Rony (she's in the middle in the photo)was visiting from Australia and I decided to take her to Stew Leonard’s, a funky local supermarket. It was the middle of the afternoon and the temperature was hovering around 105°. Remember Robin Williams in Good Morning, Vietnam? It’s hot! Damn hot. Real hot! As we set off across the parking lot I realized I’d left my Panama hat in the car. Ooof! We were nearly at the air-conditioning. Did I want to go back for the hat? No way.

Now that I think back to my pre-cancer days, I don’t remember seeing a lot of bald women walking around – and I’m the sort that notices that sort of thing. So I was absolutely gob-smacked that no-one stared at me in Stew’s. Actually, not quite true. Little kids stared open-mouthed, then tugged at their mothers, but nobody pointed or said anything out loud. Quite amazing. After that, I ditched the hats altogether except as sun protection. Incredibly liberating.

Fat Feet: Episode 2

I knew exactly what was going to happen when I turned up at the hospital the following week for my chemo. “How are your feet?” Dr. Z trumpeted from the far end of the corridor. “Not too bad, thanks, actually they’re much better this week,” I said, pointing out that we looked like twins with our bald heads and matching aqua-colored tops.

One thing I have to say about Dr. Z, which can’t be said of all men -- he’s remarkably observant. He spotted right away that I wasn’t being 100% truthful. He grabbed the phone. “You’re getting an ultrasound. We need to rule out blood clots in your legs.” I took a deep breath. “And if your legs are clear, I want ultrasounds of your pelvis,” he said, informing radiology that a crazy woman that ‘tawked’ funny was coming up immediately.

Of course there were no blood clots in either leg. Nor were there any blood clots in my pelvis or in any part of my reproductive system (retired). By the time I got back downstairs, Dr. Z had the results. “Everything is clean,” he said, scribbling furiously in my chart, which was starting to look like half an encyclopedia.

The problem with having cancer in one part of your body is that it might have spread to other areas -- and Dr. Z was determined to track down any errant cancer cells before they got into trouble. Obviously, this was a good thing, especially since all the new tests showed that I was the healthiest person on the planet, but all these exams and trips to different departments took up a huge amount of time. I tell you, having cancer is a full-time job.

Dr. Z didn’t know what to make of my feet. The swelling had begun soon after I started the Taxol part of my chemo, so we decided to keep an eye on them. Thank goodness it was summer – the only footwear that I could get on were flip-flops!