What Day Is This Again?

When I haven’t been working, I’ve been sleeping. More than a week has passed by, and I’ve slept it away. A friend pointed out that actually I’ve been fighting cancer. So yeah, I’ll own that.

I have been waiting to post something that doesn’t sound like a whinefest. Waiting hasn’t worked, so here it is.

I lost most of my hair on Friday, so on Saturday Abe lovingly and gently shaved my head, cleaned it up with his electric razor and finished it off with a Three Stooges buffing. I thought I would look like Mrs. Potato Head, but really I look like Elmer Fudd.

Now I have to fuss with scarves and hats. Do you know you have to iron those scarves every time you use them?! I’m getting advice from a number of my gay buds to ramp it up with operatic eyebrows and saturated lip colors. Me? I’m a beach bum! My eyebrows are disappearing, though, so I’m using brown shadow to fill them in. At least you can see them now. I do have two fedoras and a bunch of scarves to mess with when I have to go out in public.

I can’t get rid of this fool cold. In a coughing fit that scared my colleagues, I apparently cracked or broke a rib. (The sixteen-year-old physician’s assistant wasn’t sure.) Now I have codeine to stop the cough—and put me back to sleep. I’ve got a brand new batch of white blood cells, courtesy of a booster shot, that just might take care of this cold before next Monday’s chemo.

I still have cards, emails and meals on a regular basis that make me laugh, cry and be grateful for such good friends. (Wait. The meals do not make me cry.) With my colleagues’ and volunteers’ patience and help, I have been able to maintain my duties at work. Two big annual events this weekend will continue the busy “season” of the year at church, and they’re coming together well.

So in spite of all my whining, I’m still coming out way ahead. I remain so grateful for all of your wonderful wishes, prayers, and acts of kindness. It is the stuff of dreams.

Cross-posted on CaringBridge.org.