On Shrinking and Shedding

On Shrinking

As my friend Mike told me yesterday in response to a text, shrinking and boob should never be used in the same sentence, unless of course it is to say that the tumor inside my boob seems to be shrinking, which I am happy to report seems to be the case.

Since I started treatment five weeks ago, I have been able to tell a difference in the size of the tumor in my breast. I pretty much feel myself up like a 100 times a day to try and determine if there has been any change. What used to hurt, doesn't so much anymore. What used to be very visible has receded. However, this is just me going on what I feel and what I see.

When I met with the doctor on Wednesday he too was able to feel a difference. I felt pretty good about the fact that he took out his little measuring tape and didn't even end up using it. He did frequently apologize to me about "mashing" my boob, but I assured him that he could continue to mash away if it meant that he was going to tell me that the tumor was shrinking.

As an aside, I totally went topless in front of this guy with no worries. Usually, they throw a blue paper robe at you and leave the room. I have zero modesty left when it comes to the boobs. I have whipped them out in various places over the last five years including, but not limited to, a confessional in church, the beach, planes, and a carnival. I was like, "dude you are going to see them in 30 seconds, totally exposed anyway, why don't you just stand there and pretend you are 'covering me up' with the paper blue robe, while I take my top off for you."

Anyway, hopefully the shrinkage has made its way to my hip, which I am also happy to report doesn't ache with the same consistency that it has in the past few weeks. We will follow up with a PET scan in the next month or so to see. Oh chemo and your toxic blend of chemicals coursing through my body, please work, please work, please work.

On Shedding

My hair is falling out. It is everywhere. One of the first things I did was go out and get a wig. Even though I paid extra for two day shipping over a month ago because I wanted to be prepared for the inevitable, my hair really just started falling out last week. First it was just a few strands, now it is pretty much clumps of hair every time I touch it.

Good thing I have a lot of hair. I can tell that it is thinning but there aren't large bald areas yet that are noticeable. I stopped shaving my legs a few weeks ago because I thought that the hair would just all come out. After a few days I realized that it wasn't happening and that I really should probably still try to maintain some sort of hair removal on my body.

The hair on my head however, has started to get everywhere in the house. I find it on the kids, in my bed, it is all over the floor and I am not sure the vacuum can handle it anymore. It is time to come off. All of it.

What that means though, is that we have to tell the Ladies. Up until now there has been no real physical signs of this cancer. We have tried to keep everything as consistent and structured for them as we can. I just don't want to introduce this into their lives. There is no avoiding a shaved head, there will be no avoiding a bald one. There is no avoiding the reality of this situation.

We have resources, books, places to turn if they have questions and concerns. But we are going to be honest. We will use the word. Cancer, like Voldemort will be spoken in our house if only to take a bit of the power and the fear away from it. We will not whisper it or call it the c-word (I usually refer to another word by that title, if you are unsure of what it is just check out my first post on this blog). We will be honest, as direct as possible and probably sobbing messes by the end.

I just hope the Ladies like my wig and that my husband has a steady hand with the trimmers.