Hair again....

I have hair! I am sadly over-excited by my 3mm of peach fuzz, although it is almost totally white, it is so soft, like a kind of dandelion clock all round my head. AND it is actually growing (but sooooooooo slowly - and believe me, I check progress daily) and not falling out.

Both kids tell me today that my hair is getting really long. Bless them - they are big on encouragement - and don't see the irony in calling 3mm "long". I really hope it doesn't stay perfectly white - but all hair is good hair, and that's what dye is for...... I even shave my legs this week, and get excited by that too. I will try never to moan about hair removal ever again.

I am so carried away by my new fuzz that I totally forget to wear any hair when we go down for dinner at Riders Lodge in Malaysia - I suddenly remember as we turn to head to the dinning room and have to leg it, giggling hysterically, back to our room, followed by the kids and J - we all weep til our sides hurt and then return to dinner. I don't think anyone notices - they are all too polite and kind to mention it if they do.

This week I have number 7 of 12 treatments - only 5 more to go.

Papa Smurf tells me that when it's all over, she wants me to keep the port in for another two years if possible, in case I need it again. A rather stark reminder (which I don't need) that there is a possibility of The Thing - part 2.

I know she is just being practical, and we would feel silly having to go through another operation on top of everything else if the worst should happen, but still....... This is the thing with The Thing - you can spend weeks assuming you've beaten the bugger, and then one comment like that, or one discussion about "improving your chances of survival", and you are firmly put back in your place and reminded that this is something to live with forever - it's never "over". And that's crap.

This comment, along with "chemo brain" and chemically induced menopause, club together this week to create the perfect storm (at 3am, of course) when I lose it totally and J spends 3 hours in the middle of the night talking me back down. I sob and rant, and he listens and holds, and we get through it. I think perhaps I have been holding it all in a tiny bit (repressed? me?) but believe me, it's all out now and I feel so much better for it.

Chemo brain is a well documented side effect - and means I struggle to remember names of things, and also lack the mental agility I normally have, to solve problems, fix things etc. It's all totally chemical, and is immediately reversed once the drugs are stopped, but I hate it. I have to learn to let go - and ask J to do things I can't (and accept that, for a bit, there ARE things I can't do) - not really my style, so could be an interesting learning experience..........

And Singapore is NO place to be having a hot flush. Also possibly/probably (40/60) reversible - we have to wait and see.

Onwards and upwards...

As zen-like and serene as ever, J xx