"How often do you have to cut your hair to keep it looking like that?" a woman asked me on the elevator. I was completely caught off guard by her question. I stared at her for a moment, and then said, "I haven't had to cut it yet, so I don't know. I had cancer so I was bald." She responded, "Well it is gorgeous and you are absolutely stunning." I miss my hair today.
I look at pictures of myself from last fall and over the holidays and I cannot believe how a couple of months can change you so much. I look completely different. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I have gotten many compliments on my new super-short 'do and plenty more stares. It's the staring that I can't stand. When I wore my wig I was camouflaged. I was able to be just one of the crowd without drawing attention to myself. Now I stand out and I wonder what people are thinking when they look at me. The weird thing is, I always loved standing out and getting attention, but this time I hate it. Maybe it's because it's not something I had control over. I wonder if people know that I had cancer. Do they assume that I am a lesbian? Do they think I am just trying to be trendy? Hmm … I wish I knew.
Perhaps if I had more strength and was rested none of this would even bother me. Radiation has quickly become very challenging. I am absolutely drained to the point of tears and find it hard to focus on anything of any importance. I meet with Dr. Moulds every Tuesday and he assures me that this is all very normal. He said he would leave my level of activity to my discretion, but that I may find that I need to cut back on some of my "social outings" due to fatigue. He wasn't kidding! Not only am I exhausted, but I am becoming irritable and cranky. Frankly, I'm a real joy. The fact that I cannot exercise to the extent that I'd like doesn't help either. It just feels like a vicious cycle. As soon as I finish one phase of this journey and start to feel better, I begin another and crash again. I am experiencing a loss of appetite, reliance on sleeping pills and an increase in caffeine intake, so my body is totally off. I need things to be normal and balanced again.
Luckily my skin has held up to radiation so far. The area that has been radiated is slightly pink, but I have no pain or discomfort. Apparently the visual effects don't surface until week three or four. I am hoping that with my vitamin C intake and using the suggested creams and ointments I will be able to avoid the burns and blisters.
If the exhaustion doesn't drive me off a cliff, perhaps my psychological state will. I was talking to my girlfriend Laurie over lunch the other day and was expressing some desires, such as traveling, losing weight, moving, and wiping clean my wardrobe, along with other things. She is so smart … she was able to see through my whirlwind comments and decipher that what I am trying to do is "start over." After a life-changing event people seek to wipe the slate clean, go where no one knows them and start anew. I have this unrelenting desire to start over and it consumes me. I feel as though I have been dropped into a void and that my recovery is still just beginning (which it technically is). It's almost as if when I went into remission people were saying, 'oh, you must be so relieved you're getting well, this is so great.' However I just cried a lot, and thought, 'I can't believe what I just went through.' I've read a lot about the grief experienced after breast cancer treatment and realized I suffered from something similar to posttraumatic stress disorder. It didn't all hit until it was already over. I believe things will get better in time, but that I greatly underestimated the psychological effects of this journey. However, I will continue to let God be my compass and celebrate my tiny victories.
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