Are There Worse Things Than No Hair?

When I first learned I was going to have chemo I thought losing my hair WAS going to be the worst thing that could happen. This was a card I got from Ann Main.  Nothing like getting sympathy from someone who has walked in my shoes. 

Tomorrow (Friday) is my chemo halfway point.  And to tell you the truth, I've honestly considered what it would be like to just stop this whole crazy chemo nightmare thing.  I mean, how does the doctor determine how many treatments are enough in the first place?  The past few days I have felt almost like a regular person.  I'm not ready for that feeling to end.  

My body did not respond so good after chemo number two and I'm terrified of what mysteries this next one holds in store.  The only thing that will hold my feet to the fire, so to speak, is what my physician's assistant told me when I was in her office about a week ago.  She, too, has had cancer and been through chemo.  She, too, was given "only" a ten percent chance of the cancer returning.  Guess what?  It did return -- returned with a vengeance.  She had to have chemo for a week at a time every 21 days -- basically had to knock her out.  Let me tell you what, this doctor knows all about chemo and all the little afflictions associated with it.  She told me that chemo gave her nausea, a constant runny nose and a cough -- chemo nose and chemo cough, she called it.  She said, "just go ahead and blame everything on the chemo because it probably did cause your pink eye and sore throat, pleurisy and that never-ending cough.  It causes lots of problems.  It's like there is a mad medicine man that runs a little chemo village in your body, you never know what he will do next."   

No kidding!

That ten percent story that she told me was enough to scare me into finishing my chemo, and here I thought I was in such a low percentage.  What were the chances my cancer would return?  I guess that's why there is a ten percent -- someone fit that category, and I don't want that someone to be me.   

During the past three weeks I have received a number of blessings in the form of cards, phone calls, visits, prays and sweet thoughtful gifts.  I'll let the pictures tell the story.  

My daughter Shaynan insisted that I needed this warming mattress pad because she knew how cold I tended to get.  If she only knew how much this mattress pad saved me these past two weeks, warming my chest (and lungs) so that I did not cough when I slept.  God Bless you, sweetie!

Carolyn (Dwain's sister) surprised me with all of these Chicken Soup for the Soul books because she knew that I was completely out of good reading material.  She also spent two days cleaning our house and cooking meals.  I could not talk her out of it.  As I said before, Carolyn's husband also has cancer -- lung cancer.  Carolyn has a huge, huge heart and lots of energy.

Twelve more books?  What can I say?  I'm overwhelmed!

I am holding or wearing three treasures.  The pink shawl is a prayer shawl delivered to Dwain's office by Molly McCorkindale.  It was knitted by one of the ladies of St. John's Episcopal Church as part of their ministry.  Molly said the knitters pray as they knit and then the shawl is blessed.  I can't even begin to express how it made me feel to receive such a lovely, lovely shawl.  I feel wrapped up in blessings and prayers.  The cup in my hand was sent to me by my cousin Vickye and her husband Harry Posey (who live in Galveston).  It says:  The Chemo Made Me Do It!  No doubt!  Thanks to Vickye and Harry, I no longer have to explain myself to anyone.  Then there is Layne Ragsdale who knows how very attached I am to my precious cats. The framed picture she gave me says:  I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.  Lane we will send you a picture when we get this hung with pictures of all of our cats surrounding it. Thank you!

I just wanted to show a close up of how incredibly soft this prayer shawl looks.  What a lovely ministry, too.

My knitting friend and one of the newsroom writers at the Harrison Daily Times, Ceila DeWoody, knitted this adorable little chemo hat/beanie for me.  I absolutely love the weight and the feel of it on my head.  Celia, I want to learn how to knit these!  They are wonderful. 

This is just another angle of the cap on my head.  I can let it rest above my ears or let it fall over the tops of my ears. Either way, it's perfect.

Chemo tomorrow. You may not hear from me for a few days.  Pray the mad medicine man in the chemo village is in a good mood this time.