Of course I cannot just keep this blog about cancer.  Life goes on and anyone who knows me knows that I’ve been steeped in the kitchen, and vow to keep my grandmothers’ italian kitchens alive.  This morning is chilly.  I love this weather.  Those of you in the northeast know the delay to our growing season which was caused by rain and more rain in June and July.  So now we have beautiful tomatoes, most of them green.  While the katz and I were rolling around in the morning light, I decided to make some fried green tomatoes for breakfast.   We did the usual flour, egg and and seasoned breadcrumb covering and fried them in olive oil.  They were a bed for the over easy eggs topped with grated Parmesan, fresh RED cherry and sun-gold tomatoes and some fresh basil.  It was really tasty.  I saw Julie and Julia last night.  Loved it.

The hair thing is interesting.  As many of you know I’ve chopped all my hair off.  This has been a great thing for me.  Not only is it fun to have short hair, I loved it when my friend S told me that with my baseball cap on I look young enough to be a boy.  She said it with such endearment in her voice, I wore it like a proud pony.   I feel like it’s given me strength to surrender something that has, in part, defined me on the physical plain.  You know that I don’t usually fuss with my hair…like not at all.  I am happy to say that I have come to love its color and texture (that took some time).  The messier the better.

My hair is still holding on.  Even before all of this, I had thought with great compassion about what it must be like deal with hair loss.  Whether it be related to aging, allopecia or other medical reasons.  I never imagined that I’d have to deal with it…my family is hairy.  Honestly, it is the thing I look forward to the least.  Give me nausea.  Hair loss?  I don’t think so.   I suspect that once it happens,  I’ll be able to get on to bigger and better things and that will be that.  UUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH.  Admitting this to myself and YOU is important for me.

While at the Jr. High picking up E the other day, I saw children frolicking about on the beautiful green grass behind the school.  A group of girls was running and laughing and one of them had no hair.  E said something about her having cancer and how he admired her for the courage to just go on with life as a baldy (my term).   I watched her for a while.  She taught me a lot about what is important just in the 3 minutes I sat there.

When I was probably 9, I did the 70’s thing and got my long hair cut into a groovy shag.  Mr. Marconi  had the male pattern baldness thing going on big time, and we used to talk at the neighborhood lake about his hair and my hair and he told me if I ever cut it off that he’d love to glue it on his crown.  So I brought the bag of locks to him after my back to school hair cut.  He cried.  Mind you, this was not a sacrifice but an offering on my part.  I HAD to have a shag.  No sweat off my brow.

My colleague, a cancer survivor, sent me this 1 minute clip before I left work.  I cry every time I see it.

A’s sacrifice still chokes me up and probably will indefinitely.  On Friday at the soccer game, her good friend who clearly loves me,  ran up to me, her once long blonde hair now shoulder length.  When she hugged me she tapped my shoulder and whispered in my ear that she did it for me.  Why does this bring tears to my eyes every time?

I drew Hair Energy before chemo started.  I was not going to put it here because it’s kinda creepy with no face and all, but it’s part of what I’ve been visualizing.  I have learned that hair loss is common with the chemo drugs I am given because they go after fast growing cells, like cancer, cells in my intestines, blood cells and hair cells, to name a few.  This is why getting a shot to inspire my bone marrow to produce white cells 24 hours after the infusion is important.  This is why there is such gastric distress.  This is why I have thought a lot about losing my hair.   I’ve got the clippers ready and some days I just want to get it over with instead of waiting.