Have I mentioned my decision to color my hair? I mean, why color my hair when it’s likely to fall out in bunches? Well, here’s my reasoning: If I’m not yet ready to see salt and pepper staring out of my mirror then why not indulge my wish to resemble myself pre-cancer for as long as possible ...
The fact that my hair has been shoulder length ever since college suggests why I’ll work to accept this short style (that’s certainly not my choice) while it continues to grow in length.
At first, having been bald, I was glad to see any hair at all, but here’s why that initial reaction was short lived—I missed seeing the blue eyed brunette I’d known myself to be before cancer challenged me to accept the fact that I am fighting for my life. And the color of my hair is within my control.
In addition to that, the chemo combo ordered by my oncologist is the same as the last protocol, which proved most effective at pummeling the first tumor that was surgically removed in Houston, last summer, and while I was on that protocol, my hair had begun to grow back. So if my hair had begun to grow back while that chemo was being administered then perhaps my ‘crowning glory’ will withstand six infusions of this same combination of drugs, over these next two months ...
If not, then my colorful assortment of knit caps is still in the basket that’s sitting atop my bedside commode.
Following my last PET scan, I’d planned to store my commode and walker (as well as all of the hospital supplies) in our garage. Needless to say, that plan was fated to go sideways, and as the results of my last PET scan threw a wrench into the smooth course of my on-going recovery, everything I’ll need in the aftermath this coming surgery will remain in readiness for my homecoming from Mayo—exactly one year after last summer’s surgical homecoming from Houston.
How do I feel about my need to take two steps back before my recovery moves forward, again? Well—initially I’d felt devastated and frightened until this realization brightened my instinctive reaction: As long as the words ‘forward’ and ‘recovery’ remain integral to this second proactive plan to save my life, my spirit embraces the wisdom inherent within coaxing my mind to relax anxiety by mustering the courage to accept whatever it takes to regain my good health so as to extend my life span. In short, my attitude (and hair color) are not beyond my control. And with my loving family and friends (and Compazine) by my side, this summer of 2021 will pass, one day at a time, just as was true of last summer, 2020
And now, as my sister, Lauren and brother-in-law, Michael—who stopped to pick up a bottle of sangria—are due to arrive, I’ll brush a healthy hue of color onto my cheeks in readiness to lighten the mood by welcoming my loved ones with an upbeat smile, framed by lustrous brunette curls, which, thus far, reach down just far enough to tickle my ears ...
As always, Will and I are sending our love to each of you,
❤️Annie
Annie
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