Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I’ve had an entire week of feeling fairly good.

After my return from the hospital from my first round of chemo, I spent four days on the couch with muffled hearing, headaches, and fatigue. I cancelled most of the plans I’d made because I just didn’t have the energy. Then, just as I was starting to feel human again, the pain in my abdomen returned with a vengeance. The doctor agreed that the high doses of prednisone I received in the hospital had likely masked my pre-treatment pain, but it was clearly wearing off. I asked if he’d put me on a low maintenance dose of prednisone but he didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, he sent me a message through My Chart that he’d called in a prescription for Oxycodone.  As I read this, I was literally listening to a story on NPR about the dissolution of Perdue Pharma (the makers of OxyContin) as part of a settlement reached regarding their involvement in the opioid epidemic. It felt weird to take this very similar drug knowing how addictive it can be, but I caved to the pain, as I’m sure many before me have. Luckily, just one dose seemed to have done the trick and after a loopy evening on the couch, I woke up feeling good the next day.  That was eight days ago, and I’m still feeling okay. It’s good to know that just one dose of that medication brought relief and that it is now in my arsenal for the future.  Pain is no fun.

I’ve been making good use of my new-found energy.

In the midst of this health crisis, or more likely because of it, I decided to sell my dad’s house here in Charlottesville. My parents had purchased the house just four years ago in hopes of aging in place closer to me.  Unfortunately, mom passed away three days after arriving, and dad two years after that. Dealing with the house and their belongings over the last two years has been emotionally taxing. I spent some time and money making some needed improvements, emptied the house of most of my parents’ things, and then freshened it with new paint, furniture, and kitchenware in hopes of doing a furnished rental. Then it sat there for months and months, waiting for me finish the few remaining punch list items before renting it.

While I was laying in the hospital last month, I decided the best thing to do would be to sell it and my friend Bonnie offered to help me with some of the legwork needed to do that. So, while I’ve been feeling good this past week we got busy. We met with a realtor, organized the remainder of my parent’s things in a storage closet, and moved out some of the older furniture to get ready for staging. My friends Rebecca and Cleveland drove down from DC on Sunday to help, and Bonnie and her son Sam assisted me with the last big lift on Monday.  Yesterday, we met the realtor and three contractors to schedule some painting, landscaping, and plumbing that needs to be done before we can list the house.

I am thankful to have had the energy to do all of this before heading back to the hospital, but have been pretty worn out at the end of each day.

They said I’d start losing my hair 2-3 weeks after my first treatment and, sure enough, I did.

It started happening in the hospital. Whenever I got up to use the bathroom, I would unplug Ivan (my IV pole) and notice a lot of hair on my pillow.  I’ve always been a bit of a shedder, but this was way more than usual. Last week, just as the pain was receding, the rate of shedding increased dramatically.  Anytime I touched my head, I’d pull away a handful of hair. I trimmed it into a bob, which looked cute and made it look less scraggly. I thought I could get away with just that for a while, then, one evening, while washing my hair, it started coming out in clumps. I jumped out of the shower with the water still running, got the scissors, and started cutting.  It felt kind of empowering to take control, but it was a real hack job. Luckily, I’d planned for this and had already arranged for my friend Michelle, who sports a very fashionable cropped ‘do’, to bring her clippers out on Saturday for “the big shave.” Armed with glasses of rosé, we sat on my back porch and took the rest of it off.

                                   

 

That evening, I went out to see my friends The Pollocks play a gig at the tasting room where I used to work and they all said that I rocked my new look.

So I said, “Well, then let’s rock it!!”

I'm also rocking a new half-wig, called the Hustle Wig, which is clearly meant to be worn under hats.

         

I head back to the hospital for my second round of chemo tomorrow.

Today, I had day surgery to place my port. It’s called a PowerPort, which you’d think would make me feel like a super hero, but instead I feel more like an EV. I’m hopeful that it will ease the burden of the IV drug administration and multiple blood draws I’ll be receiving over the next three months and will be more comfortable than the PICC line I had before. I’m happy to report that, aside from the whole process taking longer than expected, the surgery was quite uneventful.  Tomorrow morning, I go back to the Cancer Center for labs and an appointment with my oncologists and then I’ll be admitted to the hospital in the afternoon. I will most likely be there through Tuesday.

     

Tomorrow will be busy, so beginning Friday, I’ll be open to visitors. If you plan to come see me, remember to bring your ID for your visitor’s pass. If they may ask from my birthday, just text me and I’ll send it to you. Also, please note that they do not allow flowers on the oncology wing. Please give me a text before you head over to confirm that it’s a good time.

Now that I know what to expect, and my doctors are prepared for how I may react to some of the medications that gave me trouble the last time, I’m less nervous about this hospital stay. They say that my recovery time at home may take longer with each treatment cycle, so I will plan for that and not try to take on too much too fast.

Here we go again....