Round II

Let me just start out with my hair. After it started to fall out in clumps, Richard was sweet enough to shave it for me. That was last week. Today, I found myself using an eyebrow brush to comb my remaining hairs. It was a good move until I realized that I was just shaking more loose and my face was covered with 1/4 inch hairs. It was like a bad Super Cuts experience. C'mon, you know that we've all had one of those. I then get the brilliant idea to take a piece of tape to my head in order to pull out all of the loose buggers. Guess what? The grey ones are not budging. Black hairs came out nice and soft...grey are sticking straight out. Up close, my scalp looks like a worn out dish scrubber. I think I'm safe for use on Teflon.

I got to my appointment early. Well, three minutes early. That's my best yet. The center is a block from my front door and I've been 2 to 5 minutes late to every appointment. I hauld in my Club Chemo gear and started to head back to the room, when I was told that I needed to wait because I had an appointment with Miss Chemo USA. A beautiful fill in nurse practioner that had to review all of my stats. This meant the dreaded WEIGH IN. I found myself blabbing on and on to her about how I've gone crazy with food this past week and I'm sure that the number that was about to appear on the scale is just due to bloat. Salt. Okay...over consumption! She just flashed her pearly whites at me and I found myself green with envy that she had long flowing hair. Up 9 pounds. I rolled my eyes and stepped off, head hanging...as we trudged over to Cabana Room number 7. She did her thing and then I asked her about the moles on the top of my head. Now that I can SEE them, I have concerns about them being there. I took my hat off and she looked. She said that they all looked normal, but one that was dark should be checked out just in case. She wrote out a referral to the dermatologist and then said, "I must say, you have a very nicely shaped head!"

This is my new claim to cancer fame. The shape of my head.

Off I went to Club Chemo for my cocktails. I sat myself down in my chair. Yes, MY chair. It's the one that I sat in three weeks ago and it's going to be the one that I sit in three weeks from now. If anyone is in that chair, I'm going to bump them out. I was a pro this time and knew what to expect. The nurse got my meds pumping through my port and I took out my yarn and started my project...asked the nurse to replace my headphone batteries...and set out my crackers. Wait. Someone brought in donuts. OMG! I looked up at my coat rack and saw that the ornament was still hanging there (time to transition people...) and checked to see if I had enough slack to walk over to the box. Yes, I just found out that I gained 9 pounds, but the donut box was singing the most sweet song to me. I walked over and found the most glorious assortment. Grabbed a maple old fashioned...with a Kleenex...and went back to my chair. Looked at my crackers. Looked at my donut. Ate the donut.

Once that was done, I had to go to the bathroom a million times. Stupid coffee.

I got myself situated again, peepers on my nose, TV on "The View" and my yarn project had begun. An older man, in his 60's I'm guessing, sat down in the chair next to me (HA! SUCKER!! Had you got here an hour ago, you coulda had this prime chair! Don't even look at it.) He says, "Hi there. I'm Roy. What brings you here?" I looked at him over my peepers and said, "It's the only place I can go to crochet in peace." He laughed. Then I said, "No, really, it's all about holding the remote control. I don't get to do that at home." He laughed again. Then I got worried. His face said, "I really want to know why you're here" and I knew that he just wanted to have the opportunity to share what he was in for. I didn't really want to know. Ugh. Finally, I said, "I'm getting chemo for breast cancer." He said, "That's what I was guessing, but I didn't want to assume." Just because I'm a woman? Or did my boobs look weird? Was he looking at my boobs? Quit it!!! Then he proceeded to tell me about his stuff. Prostate, liver, lung cancer. He has to go in every week for a chemo cocktail. He just had a small bag and was gone after an hour. Poor Roy.

I fell asleep for an hour and woke up with about half a bag of chemo left to drip. My headphones died again, but didn't want to ask for more batteries. I might have to pay a co-pay for that. A lady that was leaving loaded up a plate with donuts, candy and Ensure. Rockin' diet. I bet that even with all that, she didn't gain 9 pounds. Pfft...whatever.

Another treatment done. Only two more to go!