My friend Christie took me to a store in Woburn this morning called "Hairmate" so that I could shop for a wig while I still have hair to match before it falls out after the radiation treatments are done in six weeks. It was the first time that anyone, other than Lou and medical personnel, has actually seen my shaved head and post-surgical train-track scars.
I felt a little self-conscious at first, but truth-be-told, it was kind of a relief to let it all hang out. This is what it all looks like, I said to myself, and there's no need to make it look "good." The thing I found most interesting was that I had a "prescription" for a wig "prosthesis" from my doctor (insurance will cover most of it. The guy who fitted me, Dante, was very sensitive and skilled at trying to match my so-called "natural" color (who can remember what that looks like anymore after so many chemically-enhanced blond highlights?!?!?) and the texture and flow of my curls. The wigs felt a little hot and itchy, and I might end up mostly wearing scarves for comfort, but it's nice to know that I have will have the choice to have "hair" when I want it in a couple of months.
Barry Bonds has been exposed . . . . in more ways than one . . .. by his former mistress. Kimberly Bell has been testifying in court that she has direct evidence of Barry's use of steroids. It's all quite lurid.
What does this have to do with me? I have had to take steroids since my craniotomy in February to reduce the swelling in my brain. I don't want to take them. I eat non-stop, they prevent me from getting a good night's sleep -- I sleep for about 3 hours, tops -- and I am beginning to feel pretty darn irritable throughout the day (this is where the former San Francisco Giants star and I apparently have something in common). However, unlike the bobble head home run record holder, I have deceived neither myself nor the public that I am taking a cocktail of vitamins, flaxseed oil and protein.
I am a 52-year old happily married woman living in the Greater Boston area. I have a 21-year old son, a 27-year old stepson, stepdaughter and granddaughter.
I am blessed to have incredible, incredible friends and family and am surrounded by support. This is what most defines my life. I've also recently been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. This does not define me, but has given me tremendous perspective on what it important in this life.
My husband, Lou, noticed a downward slide in my behavior (could it really get any worse?!?!) and increased lethargy, and took me to Mt. Auburn Hospital for an MRI. The next morning, they removed 90% of a malignant brain tumor after four-hours of surgery. Two weeks ago, they removed the staples that have made sleep so difficult. I want to thank my dear husband for taking such good care of me.
Half of my head was shaved a week ago for my operation to remove a malignant brain tumor. It saved my life.
This operation was done to someone who is obsessed with her hair and spends hours and lots of money on her hair. There is a reason for everything in this world.I sometimes wonder if I have my priorities straight. I think that the cancer diagnosis started to put everything in perspective. Now I’m focusing on head scarves, which cost quite a bit less than my trips to the hair dresser and take a lot less time to arrange. I’m still obsessive/compulsive (why would that change all of a sudden?!) and “matchy-matchy” (making sure that I’ve accessorized my scarves, outfits, earrings and make-up appropriately)
The scarves are gently placed over the largest scar in the center of my forehead and cover all of the shaved part of the right part of my head. I still have hair down the sides of my head and hope that will be the case throughout my radiation and chemotherapy, which starts next week. I'm a little scared about starting the chemo, but I've been told that it's a very low dosage pill for brain tumors and that the radiation for my particular brain tumor won't be so bad because the tumor is in my frontal lobe and the coordinates easy to plot and zap. They'll be giving be anti-nausea medication for the first couple of chemo treatments.
I had my first round of chemotherapy and radiation treatments this morning. I was surrounded by the support and love of my family. My husband was in the waiting room, holding my purse (husbands don't generally like to hold their wive's purses, I've learned).
My son made me a CD-ROM of my favorite concerto, Antonio Vivaldi's "Four Seasons," which the radiation team piped into the room where I was being treated so that I could be distracted and relax (and not move my head). There were times when the sound of the x-ray beams were so loud that I couldn't actually hear the music, but I knew it was playing somewhere and my heart fluttered knowing that my cooler-than-cool son had stayed-up late burning a piece of classical music onto a CD for his old mom.
I went to Mt. Auburn Hospital today to have a mold made of my face so that an "immobilization mask" could be made for future radiation appointments. They put a substance on my face that felt like warm Silly Putty (although somehow I could breathe through it) and then put a cold cloth on it so that it would harden. In the scheme of things, this was not a hugely time consuming event in my day, but it was the type of appointment that drives home "what's going on."
