More of the same.

Pic: Me and my dad goofing off at my nephew's birthday party. I'm reluctantly learning how to rock the 'dana in public.

More of the same: Wednesday, blood drawn. Thursday, chemo for seven hours, Dee brought me lunch. Friday felt just fine, but headed to the hospital for my Neulasta shot. Saturday and today completely sore all over from the shot, which spurs growth of red and white blood cells. These cells are produced in my bone marrow, so I ache all over, especially in arms, legs, and back, until the cells are pushed out into the rest of me. Plus the nerve pain has started today and my tastebuds are all wacked, like I've been sucking on a galvanized bucket. And have I mentioned the hiccups? A calling card of ABVD. Off and on for about four days after chemo. Annoying, but when paired with heartburn, painful. Chemo still sucks, and this treatment was 5 of 8. Looking forward to September 25, my last chemo treatment (let's hope). It'll be a good birthday present.

Instead of whining about that all over again, let's talk about hair. It's been about 6 weeks since I shaved it, and for a good three weeks, looking in the mirror was surreal. I just couldn't recognize the baldy looking back at me. It wasn't me, wasn't how I thought of myself, wasn't what I wanted to see. I'd avoid mirrors, even. And whereas some habits were a joy to break (blow drying with my big round brush was a loud, obnoxious, tedious part of my pre-chemo existence), some habits wouldn't die. I would still reach back before I turned on the shower to take out my ponytail holder. When I felt instead a texture reminiscent of my brother's T-ball era melon, I would shake my head and think, 'Oh yeah.' Way bizarre.

Six weeks later, the growth on my head is just odd. Not everything has fallen out, so the parts that have been growing since I shaved it are longer, like when my aforementioned brother's T-ball head would grow out before a haircut and look all frizzy and feel soft instead of stubbly. This hair of mine is long enough to become matted; after I woke up one morning, Graham said it looked like one of our kittens had been licking my head. Sexy, I'm sure. The other parts, like around my forehead's hairline, have grown very, very thin. Do I shave it again to even everything back out, or just leave it and let the long hairs do their thing? I just don't know. I guess we'll see where I am after my last chemo treatment and worry about it then.

For now, though, I've moved on to a new stage. A wow-it's-gonna-be-a-long-time-before-you-can-go-out-without-a-bandana-so-you'd-better-learn-to-love-this stage. I've been YouTubing "how to tie a head scarf" to find new ideas, new ways to feel and look pretty. (The wig is an option, but it's a hot, self-consciousness-inducing option. I don't know how Dolly does it.) I think I'll go shopping this week for some bigger, solid-colored scarves. The ones I have now are bandanas, which I'm learning can go underneath bigger scarves to create a dressier look. When I finally can go back to work (October 1 is my goal date right now), I'll probably have to spend as much time fussing with the rectangles of fabric as I used to spend blow drying my hair. But until my short hair starts making some sort of sense, scarves are my new normal.

Love you all.

Tara