Shorn, shorn, shorn

In a preemptive strike against certain despair, I decided to shave my head now (last night) instead of watching it fall out from the chemotherapy. My reckoning is that the more proactive one can be the better. I choose to cut my hair and make it serve a purpose. I have sent the lot to Locks of Love. For those of you who don’t know, this organization (one of many) makes wigs for kids with leukemia and other serious illnesses that have caused them to lose their hair. It’s often harder on the very young to understand being bald. I’ve donated before…when I realized I was going to be very, very pregnant in August with Cassidy, I cut about 16 inches and sent it off as a donation. It’s a good feeling…

The kids are handling mom’s new look quite well. We warned Aidan ahead of time that the chemo was very strong medicine that would make my hair fall out and often make me very tired. We told him that I was going to cut it before that happened because then it was my choice. I told him last night that daddy and I were going to cut it and he seemed okay with it. Cass was a different sort of difficult. There isn’t a way to warn a 2 year old that Mommy is going to look much different in the morning. I woke her up in the dark so she would recognize my voice before seeing me. Then we turned on the little light and she worked up to it. In just a few minutes we were all trying on my hats and scarves and she thought it was great. Much fun has been had rubbing my head…and Aidan made a note that Daddy and I have the same haircut now. Yay! One hurdle passed, without clipping the bar.

Aidan has started seeing a group called Wonders and Worries. They are a group that supports children who have a serious illness in the family. We went for the first time yesterday and Aidan met with one of their counselors. The conversation started with Aidan telling Meredith all about my illness, it’s progression from tests, to surgery, the hospital, and how I was going to be taking “strong medicine” that would make me tired,etc. They then went off to ‘play’ and discuss the portacath and various other things. He wanted to know, upon leaving, when we were going back. Hurdle #2…done.

Thursday morning I go in to have the portacath placed.
Friday morning I go to see my oncologist.
Sometime early next week I start chemo…

The race goes on.


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