Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
01 June 2011
Something to look forward to
My sister C. is getting married in September. Not only it makes me feel very happy, it also gives me something to look forward to. Instead of thinking of my next surgery, I am thinking of what to wear and how will my hair look like by then. It is going to be a great day! Congratulations C. and C.
16 May 2011
4 months after chemo
During the holidays I decided to stop wearing a scarf and show my newly grown hair. I haven't had a haircut yet, this is how it is growing. I can't wait to have enough hair to have a proper haircut.
31 March 2011
Life after cancer treatments
Sometimes I have the impression that some people think that because the treatments are finished (not counting with the hormonal treatment, which in fact also has pretty annoying side effects) and because I normally say that I had cancer (in the past tense), that I am supposed to be positive and back to normal. But having cancer is not like having the flu. When you have the flu, you feel miserably sick but then you recover and get back to normal, without any consequences. With cancer it doesn’t work that way. There are physical, psychological and emotional, financial, social and work related consequences, everything is affected.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.
02 March 2011
Having fun
Yesterday I had the last of the monthly appointments with my oncologist. The next appointment will be in six months, hurray! Not that I don’t like her, but I am just so happy to free myself from all these medical appointments.
According to her I am well: the leg pain is likely to be remains of the chemotherapy induced bone pain, not having hair yet is unusual but can happen (the more I stress about it the less it will grow!), my horrible looking nails are slowly getting better, my skin and scars look great (as great as a scar and burnt skin can look like!), the hot flashes are getting milder (or I am getting used to them!), my ovaries are still not working (but there’s still hope!) and my energy levels will increase with time. At the end of the consultation she told me: “now go and have fun, enjoy life”.
Have fun. Sounds scary. I am not sure I know how to have fun anymore. Does it mean I have to relax now? Huummm, hard thing to do, I tell you.
The first step should be to stop staring into the mirror counting every single hair I see. It was easier to be bald during chemotherapy, I was so concentrated in keeping my food down that not having hair became secondary. Now that my face is round again, my eyes shine and my cheeks have some colour, not having hair became an obsession.
Today I saw a baby with less hair than me, when this thought crossed my mind “Ah! He has less hair than I do!” I had to laugh. Silly me, competing with a baby!
To be fair, I had some fun during these months, I can think of many occasions when I was relaxed and enjoying. I did a lot of things that make me happy and not all was bad.
But I do feel some kind of pressure to be happy now. Several people have asked me if I plan to do something special, radical, different or challenging. What people forget is that last year was all of that already and all I want now is peace. I actually just want normality, a routine that doesn’t include hospitals. No, I don’t feel the need to climb the Kilimanjaro, kayak the Mekong or meditate in India.
According to her I am well: the leg pain is likely to be remains of the chemotherapy induced bone pain, not having hair yet is unusual but can happen (the more I stress about it the less it will grow!), my horrible looking nails are slowly getting better, my skin and scars look great (as great as a scar and burnt skin can look like!), the hot flashes are getting milder (or I am getting used to them!), my ovaries are still not working (but there’s still hope!) and my energy levels will increase with time. At the end of the consultation she told me: “now go and have fun, enjoy life”.
Have fun. Sounds scary. I am not sure I know how to have fun anymore. Does it mean I have to relax now? Huummm, hard thing to do, I tell you.
The first step should be to stop staring into the mirror counting every single hair I see. It was easier to be bald during chemotherapy, I was so concentrated in keeping my food down that not having hair became secondary. Now that my face is round again, my eyes shine and my cheeks have some colour, not having hair became an obsession.
Today I saw a baby with less hair than me, when this thought crossed my mind “Ah! He has less hair than I do!” I had to laugh. Silly me, competing with a baby!
To be fair, I had some fun during these months, I can think of many occasions when I was relaxed and enjoying. I did a lot of things that make me happy and not all was bad.
But I do feel some kind of pressure to be happy now. Several people have asked me if I plan to do something special, radical, different or challenging. What people forget is that last year was all of that already and all I want now is peace. I actually just want normality, a routine that doesn’t include hospitals. No, I don’t feel the need to climb the Kilimanjaro, kayak the Mekong or meditate in India.
18 February 2011
What’s next?
Today I had my last radiotherapy treatment. I feel relieved and happy. Now my skin can start healing and I don’t need to go to the clinic everyday anymore.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
17 February 2011
Top 10 news of my week
1. The last few remaining eyebrows fell out but the next day I woke up with a vigorous bush of new eyebrows growing. Fantastic! It’s still less than a millimetre long, but it looks great. I miss my dark thick eyebrows.
2. I lost all eyelashes some time ago and just like my eyebrows, the eyelashes are growing strong, very uneven and very slow, but they are there.
3. Ten weeks after the last chemo, the hair on my head is still very weak, scarce and ugly, but it seems to be growing a bit everywhere now. I’m not jumping of happiness yet but I stopped panicking, there’s hope!
4. After a long, stressful and frustrating search, I finally found a really nice bikini, it is pretty and it makes me look perfectly “normal”. It doesn’t cover the chest port, the bump stands out a bit, but I can live with that. I can’t wait to go on holidays now.
5. I started exercising with a personal trainer who has been helping me regain strength in my arms, correct posture, and build some muscle. It’s great and I feel very motivated. I am aware that it will take several months before I recover completely but I am on the right path.
6. J. started working this week and I miss her company already. I've been so lucky to have here, she's been my guardian angel.
7. Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session. The end. Time to celebrate. And to celebrate, recharge and get some miminhos from my family, Saturday I am going to Portugal. My mother’s sofa is the best place in the world to rest, nap and be lazy. After Portugal S. and I are going to pamper ourselves in a spa.
8. According to my acupuncturist my Qi is imbalanced (I’m not surprised, I actually think everything about my body is deficient at the moment), and to balance my Qi and help me sleep better I started taking some Chinese herbs.
9. I’ve been eating like a pig and I’m putting on weight faster than I lost during chemo. Urgent action required, bald whales are not attractive!
10. I am preparing myself to get back to work. It’s been eight months and I wonder if I still remember where my desk is...
2. I lost all eyelashes some time ago and just like my eyebrows, the eyelashes are growing strong, very uneven and very slow, but they are there.
3. Ten weeks after the last chemo, the hair on my head is still very weak, scarce and ugly, but it seems to be growing a bit everywhere now. I’m not jumping of happiness yet but I stopped panicking, there’s hope!
4. After a long, stressful and frustrating search, I finally found a really nice bikini, it is pretty and it makes me look perfectly “normal”. It doesn’t cover the chest port, the bump stands out a bit, but I can live with that. I can’t wait to go on holidays now.
5. I started exercising with a personal trainer who has been helping me regain strength in my arms, correct posture, and build some muscle. It’s great and I feel very motivated. I am aware that it will take several months before I recover completely but I am on the right path.
6. J. started working this week and I miss her company already. I've been so lucky to have here, she's been my guardian angel.
7. Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session. The end. Time to celebrate. And to celebrate, recharge and get some miminhos from my family, Saturday I am going to Portugal. My mother’s sofa is the best place in the world to rest, nap and be lazy. After Portugal S. and I are going to pamper ourselves in a spa.
8. According to my acupuncturist my Qi is imbalanced (I’m not surprised, I actually think everything about my body is deficient at the moment), and to balance my Qi and help me sleep better I started taking some Chinese herbs.
9. I’ve been eating like a pig and I’m putting on weight faster than I lost during chemo. Urgent action required, bald whales are not attractive!
10. I am preparing myself to get back to work. It’s been eight months and I wonder if I still remember where my desk is...
01 February 2011
Having a no hair day
Seven and a half weeks after my last chemo and I still have no real hair, just some ugly fluff. And no signs of eyelashes or eyebrows yet. I try not to worry but I am very anxious. I WANT MY HAIR BACK! NOW!
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
27 January 2011
Turning into a drama queen
I feel so decrepit! All I can do is complain about my looks. No hair, no nails, dry and grey skin, no boob, no sleep, always tired... Since my toenail episode I have been completely obsessed about my nails. I assumed that since the chemo was finished so would the side effects. Unfortunately not. Yesterday two fingernails detached from the nail bed, you can probably imagine how affected and sad I was. I don’t like crying alone, it’s a bit like drinking alone, it’s depressing, so I waited until S. got home and the moment he got in I did a little ‘sniff sniff, waah, waah’ and got a good dose of “miminhos”* which made me feel immediately better. That’s what husbands are for. My nails are in a critical condition! They have been sore, yellow, deformed and weak for months, but I was hoping they would not fall off. Wrong, I was wrong. The upside is now I have the perfect excuse not to do dishes or any other task I dislike, eh, eh!
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
24 January 2011
Just when I thought things were getting better
This morning, after showering, while cleaning my feet with the towel, one of my toe nails fell off. I thought I was going to faint and throw up, all at the same time. I got so dizzy I had to sit down and call S. to cover my toe with a plaster. I can stand blood and needles, look at wounds and scars, assist an autopsy without feeling sick, but nails... specially toe nails, not that!
Once I saw a man with six toes, he was wearing flip-flops and when I looked at his feet and realised he had six toes my stomach just turned inside out. I don’t know what my problem is with feet, toes and nails, but the truth is it really made me queasy.
The problem with loosing this nail is that now I know I will lose some more because I have other nails that look equally disgusting and ready to abandon me. I was convinced my hand nails were getting better but now I don’t know anymore, I am afraid they also will fall off, just to make me look even more like a cancer patient. They are yellow, curved and slightly detached from the flesh, very sexy!
More than six weeks after the last chemo, when things should be improving, my eyebrows are still fading away (eyelashes completely gone), there’s still no sign of proper hair growth and I am tired as never before. I thought that my Portuguese genes would guarantee a rapid and strong hair growth, I wouldn’t even mind getting a moustache if that meant I would get my thick hair back.
I am going to the podiatrist tomorrow and will show him my ‘nailess’ toe. My repugnant verruca is still having fun on my foot, enjoying my weakened immune system to grow. The things one has to put up with in life!
Once I saw a man with six toes, he was wearing flip-flops and when I looked at his feet and realised he had six toes my stomach just turned inside out. I don’t know what my problem is with feet, toes and nails, but the truth is it really made me queasy.
The problem with loosing this nail is that now I know I will lose some more because I have other nails that look equally disgusting and ready to abandon me. I was convinced my hand nails were getting better but now I don’t know anymore, I am afraid they also will fall off, just to make me look even more like a cancer patient. They are yellow, curved and slightly detached from the flesh, very sexy!
More than six weeks after the last chemo, when things should be improving, my eyebrows are still fading away (eyelashes completely gone), there’s still no sign of proper hair growth and I am tired as never before. I thought that my Portuguese genes would guarantee a rapid and strong hair growth, I wouldn’t even mind getting a moustache if that meant I would get my thick hair back.
I am going to the podiatrist tomorrow and will show him my ‘nailess’ toe. My repugnant verruca is still having fun on my foot, enjoying my weakened immune system to grow. The things one has to put up with in life!
21 January 2011
Wishful thinking
Today I dreamt I had hair, I had long luscious locks. The dream was so real I could feel my fingers running through the hair. In my dream I was in the shower shampooing my long hair... So cruel! When I woke up reality seemed a nightmare.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
07 January 2011
Some days are better than others
Today I am having a bad day. Maybe it’s because of the rain and grey sky, maybe not. I woke up feeling sad, with a knot in my throat, hating everything about my sick body. I hate the way I look, the fact that I always feel so tired and the constant discomfort caused by all kind of small annoying things like having very sensitive sore nails both in my hands and feet, having pain in both arms, either because of the phlebitis or the cording, having some digestive problems, being forgetful and confused at times, and having hot flashes and night sweats, a subject I have avoided writing about in here. For about two months now I have been having menopause symptoms, one of my most feared side effects of chemotherapy. My ovaries stopped working, maybe not permanently, that is what I am hoping for. I feel I am losing my femininity: lost a breast, lost all my hair, look tired and old, will most likely never become a mother and will never breast feed. I know some things are temporary like the hair loss and that the most important is to be alive and well. People can tell me this over and over again but I can’t get used to the idea that I am not the healthy person I thought I was before all this cancer thing happened. I want to live until I am 90 (or more!), healthy, happy and elegant. With all these worries I am going to get wrinkled, grey and turn into a grumpy old lady.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
31 December 2010
2011 is going to be a better year
My body is detoxing and trying to readjust to a life without the chemo drugs. I wonder how long it will take to get back to normal, a month, six months, a year? My digestive tract is still a bit of a mess, my nails are very sore and yellow (I wonder if they are going to fall off or not and if yes, does it hurt? How will it look like? How long does it take to grow back?), my skin is so dry it seems it is going to crack at any moment, I have lost all my hair, except for 10 eyebrows and about 5 eyelashes (yes, I counted them!), which I am sure will abandon me in the coming days, making me look even more weird and sickish. I am so aware of the way I look now, I wish mirrors didn’t exist. Between chemo sessions some baby hair always grows on my head, weak, colourless and very scarce hair which looks nothing like my old hair. Now I look in the mirror every day hoping to see my dark strong hair growing back. I want to go back to work in January or February and I would prefer to go back without a scarf covering my head. I am tired beyond believe and so out of shape that yesterday I could hardly walk up the mountain to enjoy the view over Moledo. My muscles ache and my joints like to complain as well. I feel like an old lady.
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
05 November 2010
Ailments
Day eight of this cycle and I am still spending most of the day in bed. I feel so weak I can’t perform any of the normal daily activities without getting breathless and exhausted. Now I understand what fatigue really is. The worst thing is that the tiredness doesn’t go away even if I rest the whole day. Luckily the bone and joint pain is almost gone and I am left only with some muscle pain. It is interesting how pain can influence my emotional state, from Sunday to Tuesday, when the pain was almost unbearable, I thought it was never going to end and I was convinced I was getting worse. I felt very down and pessimistic. But, thanks to my selective memory, a great quality in this business, I can’t remember anymore how it felt like to be in pain.
It isn’t just the fatigue that is bothering me. Chemotherapy is destroying my whole digestive system: from a sore mouth (I have huge mouth ulcers that make eating quite a challenge) to nausea, constipation followed by diarrhoea, heartburn, indigestion, loss of appetite, colic and sensitivity to smells and tastes, everything is contributing to my general feeling of being unwell.
On top of this, I lost my nostrils’ hair which is very annoying. I never really appreciated how useful they were. Now I have a constant runny nose and a sore throat.
I didn’t want to mention it because it makes me really sad, but my eyebrows and eyelashes are getting thinner and thinner. Panic level: really really high!
And, to put a cherry on top of my cake, I have a verruca on my right foot which is taking advantage of my weakened immune system to grow. Just great!
It isn’t just the fatigue that is bothering me. Chemotherapy is destroying my whole digestive system: from a sore mouth (I have huge mouth ulcers that make eating quite a challenge) to nausea, constipation followed by diarrhoea, heartburn, indigestion, loss of appetite, colic and sensitivity to smells and tastes, everything is contributing to my general feeling of being unwell.
On top of this, I lost my nostrils’ hair which is very annoying. I never really appreciated how useful they were. Now I have a constant runny nose and a sore throat.
I didn’t want to mention it because it makes me really sad, but my eyebrows and eyelashes are getting thinner and thinner. Panic level: really really high!
And, to put a cherry on top of my cake, I have a verruca on my right foot which is taking advantage of my weakened immune system to grow. Just great!
27 October 2010
Ruining my good mood
I hate chemo! I’ve said this before and it stays true. I simply hate it and I have to admit that it crossed my mind to refuse any further treatments. But I won’t because I am too wise (and no one around me would allow me to that anyway). So, tomorrow I will go to another session very much against my will.
I’ve been feeling so good lately, it is a shame we have to ruin that. I even have small episodes of some kind of anxiety or panic attacks when I think of what is coming. Exaggerating? Me? Nãaaaa...
Plus, the phlebitis remains the same, painful, annoying and uncomfortable and, even worse, my eyebrows are fading away. I give it one, maybe two, more weeks of life, after that I will definitely look like an egg. I really really wish they didn’t fall out. Funny enough, completely unnecessary hair like the hair on my arms hasn’t fallen out yet and there’s no sign of weakness. How come?
Need to go now, I have to go to the clinic for the pre-chemo tests.
I’ve been feeling so good lately, it is a shame we have to ruin that. I even have small episodes of some kind of anxiety or panic attacks when I think of what is coming. Exaggerating? Me? Nãaaaa...
Plus, the phlebitis remains the same, painful, annoying and uncomfortable and, even worse, my eyebrows are fading away. I give it one, maybe two, more weeks of life, after that I will definitely look like an egg. I really really wish they didn’t fall out. Funny enough, completely unnecessary hair like the hair on my arms hasn’t fallen out yet and there’s no sign of weakness. How come?
Need to go now, I have to go to the clinic for the pre-chemo tests.
18 October 2010
Head Insulation
In these last few days, temperatures dropped a lot, one cannot leave the house without a winter coat and a scarf anymore. Since I have lost my natural head insulation, going out is a bit of a drama because the thin scarves I wear do not protect my head from the cold wind. Yesterday I went to Snow & Rock and bought fleece lined beanies and an icebreaker to wear underneath the scarves. I am saved! At night I also started wearing a cap or a hat otherwise I feel so cold I cannot fall asleep. I never thought that not having hair would make me feel so cold.
Tomorrow we are going to the South East, to the seaside, to get some fresh air and relax a bit for a few days. We both desperately need it. The new hats I bought will be very useful to protect my little head from the cold strong coastal wind. I can’t wait to go there and enjoy a long walk on the White Cliffs.
Tomorrow we are going to the South East, to the seaside, to get some fresh air and relax a bit for a few days. We both desperately need it. The new hats I bought will be very useful to protect my little head from the cold strong coastal wind. I can’t wait to go there and enjoy a long walk on the White Cliffs.
08 October 2010
Grow, dammit, grow!
When I first saw the front page of The Economist this morning, I thought it was dedicated to me :)
01 October 2010
Wigs versus scarves
In preparation for the hair loss, before chemo started I went to some wig shops and tried several wigs. In one of the shops I narrowed down the options to four different wigs, the ones I thought I would be able to wear. But every time I went wig shopping, I felt depressed, the idea of having to wear one made me sad and angry. I decided I didn’t want one and that I would wear a scarf.
When my hair started falling out I had it shaved off and immediately started wearing scarves. It is emotionally very difficult to accept I have no hair and to be looked at on the streets, shops and restaurants. I got used to the scarves and I have no problem at all wearing them. I feel normal and most of the times I almost forget I have one on.
More and more people ask me why I don’t wear a wig, and tell me I would look better and more “normal”. What I can’t explain is that I do not feel normal with a wig on. I feel like I am pretending something and it makes me feel strange.
I have a wig but I am not sure I will ever wear it. This week I made an appointment at the wig shop I liked the most and went there with S. and my mother. From the four wigs I had chosen the first time I went there, I bought one with a similar hair cut I had before chemo, a bob style, same hair colour as my original hair. It actually looks very good. I even think it looks much better than my usual hair because it is always combed and neat. I haven’t worn it outside yet, I can’t get used to it. I look in the mirror and I know it is me with a wig on. By now everyone knows I am going through chemo, so why pretend I have hair? I feel it was a waste of money. I hope I can donate it to charity one day.
If I was working I would most likely wear it, it would be easier for other people and less distracting. But to go to Waitrose, museums, walks in the park, etc I don’t see the point.
Maybe I should wear it more often at home to get used to it. The truth is, a scarf is easy and fun to wear and it makes me feel like myself.
Why am I so averse to wearing a wig? I can’t explain it.
When my hair started falling out I had it shaved off and immediately started wearing scarves. It is emotionally very difficult to accept I have no hair and to be looked at on the streets, shops and restaurants. I got used to the scarves and I have no problem at all wearing them. I feel normal and most of the times I almost forget I have one on.
More and more people ask me why I don’t wear a wig, and tell me I would look better and more “normal”. What I can’t explain is that I do not feel normal with a wig on. I feel like I am pretending something and it makes me feel strange.
I have a wig but I am not sure I will ever wear it. This week I made an appointment at the wig shop I liked the most and went there with S. and my mother. From the four wigs I had chosen the first time I went there, I bought one with a similar hair cut I had before chemo, a bob style, same hair colour as my original hair. It actually looks very good. I even think it looks much better than my usual hair because it is always combed and neat. I haven’t worn it outside yet, I can’t get used to it. I look in the mirror and I know it is me with a wig on. By now everyone knows I am going through chemo, so why pretend I have hair? I feel it was a waste of money. I hope I can donate it to charity one day.
If I was working I would most likely wear it, it would be easier for other people and less distracting. But to go to Waitrose, museums, walks in the park, etc I don’t see the point.
Maybe I should wear it more often at home to get used to it. The truth is, a scarf is easy and fun to wear and it makes me feel like myself.
Why am I so averse to wearing a wig? I can’t explain it.
22 September 2010
Superfluous items
Shampoo, conditioner, brush, blowdryer, hair bands, clips, elastics,...
And at risk of becoming superfluous: mascara, tweezers, hair lightning cream, body wax,...
19 September 2010
2 down, 4 more to go
Thursday I had the second chemo session which left me pretty much unable to do anything. I felt so sick I couldn’t move or eat. At night I got so worried I asked S. to call the chemo nurse to ask if feeling that nauseous was normal:
“Do you have fever? - No.
Do you have sharp pain in any part of your body? - Apart from a throbbing headache and a very upset stomach, no.
Do you have signs of extravasation of the drugs in the cannula site? - No.
Do you have difficulties breathing? - I’m breathless but I can breathe.
Take more anti-sickness tablets and try to relax and sleep.”
Well, I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of: we have here exactly what you need, take this and you will feel great again. But no, there was no magical solution. I was left wondering if after so many pills I was still feeling sick, taking more pills wouldn’t just upset my stomach even more. With some effort I managed to relax and fall asleep. I know stress plays a big role in these situations, and maybe I was panicking, but I never felt that sick before and was hoping there was something that could be done.
Friday I woke up feeling slightly better and managed to go to the appointment with the oncologist. She thinks I am doing remarkably well which is always nice to hear. Later I was again hit by extreme exhaustion and a general feeling of unwellness.
Saturday was a day to forget: got out of bed to lie down on the sofa and from the sofa to the sun bed in the garden and then back to the sofa again. Today I feel pretty much the same, with up and downs which makes me believe I am slowly getting better. Sometimes I think this is more than I can handle and I feel that it’s emotionally taking its toll.
But not all is bad. After the chemo on Thursday and because my hair situation was only getting worse, S. shaved my head. What a relieve! It looks so much better. It is less than 1cm long and it looks really cool (if we ignore the odd bald patches!). I discovered I have a nice head shape, normal ears and now instead of seeing a horrible hair situation in the mirror, I see a nice shaped head with a nice face. Having my head shaved was the happiest moment of this week.
“Do you have fever? - No.
Do you have sharp pain in any part of your body? - Apart from a throbbing headache and a very upset stomach, no.
Do you have signs of extravasation of the drugs in the cannula site? - No.
Do you have difficulties breathing? - I’m breathless but I can breathe.
Take more anti-sickness tablets and try to relax and sleep.”
Well, I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of: we have here exactly what you need, take this and you will feel great again. But no, there was no magical solution. I was left wondering if after so many pills I was still feeling sick, taking more pills wouldn’t just upset my stomach even more. With some effort I managed to relax and fall asleep. I know stress plays a big role in these situations, and maybe I was panicking, but I never felt that sick before and was hoping there was something that could be done.
Friday I woke up feeling slightly better and managed to go to the appointment with the oncologist. She thinks I am doing remarkably well which is always nice to hear. Later I was again hit by extreme exhaustion and a general feeling of unwellness.
Saturday was a day to forget: got out of bed to lie down on the sofa and from the sofa to the sun bed in the garden and then back to the sofa again. Today I feel pretty much the same, with up and downs which makes me believe I am slowly getting better. Sometimes I think this is more than I can handle and I feel that it’s emotionally taking its toll.
But not all is bad. After the chemo on Thursday and because my hair situation was only getting worse, S. shaved my head. What a relieve! It looks so much better. It is less than 1cm long and it looks really cool (if we ignore the odd bald patches!). I discovered I have a nice head shape, normal ears and now instead of seeing a horrible hair situation in the mirror, I see a nice shaped head with a nice face. Having my head shaved was the happiest moment of this week.
15 September 2010
One day to go
Tomorrow morning I have my second chemotherapy session and I do not look forward to that. From what I understand the side effects can be cumulative, they can increase in intensity and number. Last time, during the first week, I was constantly nauseous, tired and lethargic, had a sore mouth, lost my appetite and had terrible headaches. The second week was better, I was feeling very tired, with absolutely no energy, but able to go out and have some relaxed fun. During the third week I started feeling normal and eating well, just very anxious and sleeping a bit more than usual. The only thing that ruined this week was the hair loss and having a very sore scalp. I don’t think I will be able to wear the cold cap this time, not only I have lost a significant amount of hair but my scalp is so sore I can’t even touch it.
Today I am going to the clinic for some pre-chemo blood tests. After that I plan to go to Le Pain Quotidian in Marylebone High Street and enjoy some delicious bread. Bread has been excluded from my diet but I allow myself a couple of naughty sins a week.
Today I am going to the clinic for some pre-chemo blood tests. After that I plan to go to Le Pain Quotidian in Marylebone High Street and enjoy some delicious bread. Bread has been excluded from my diet but I allow myself a couple of naughty sins a week.
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