Tuesday, November 4, 2014

The last post I've written since Oct. 12. Mostly pictures.

Getting through the motherfucking radiation has been a shitstorm.  In the last couple of weeks, radiation kept feeling worse and worse and worse.  I started having to take Zofran every eight hours to counter the nausea.  My neuro-oncologist gave me some suggestions for pills to take in between those eight hours, and I started taking them, too.  I took Advil because a side effect of anti-nausea pills is a headache.  Plus, having my head filled with radiation and stuff every day caused some pain, too.  Sleeping hours a day.  Unable to identify my hunger.  And when a doctor has presented every single aspect of my health care phenomenon, they've informed me that it causes constipation.

Radiation = doing lots of good.  And sucks.

Here's what my head looked like while I was going through radiation:


Every time I took a shower, or even touched my head, quantities of hair would come off.  That's some serious hair.  That's my head saying, "Abandon ship!"

On October 30, my radiation stopped.  I was done.  Done.  I was celebratory!  Here are the ways I documented that day:

The calendar that tracked the process.  I got to cross off every day that I completed radiation, and then I got to recycle it on Oct. 30.


The container of Temodar, my chemotherapy, EMPTY!




I kept these near me at all time so I did't forget to take the magical Zofra half an hour before I took the Temodar.  So satisfying to throw that baggie away.




When Claire escorted me out of my last radiation session, she talked through several food options we might use to celebrate.  Muffins?  Blech, no.  Cookies? Blech, no.  Hot dog?  Why yes, I think that would be delicious!  And it was.  And the nice hot-dog-selling-guy took our picture.

Plus, I got to ring a bell at the radiation center--sounds goofy, but actually was satisfying.  The man ahead of me rang it, too, and it felt meaningful to have even the smallest recognition of having gone through that challenging experience.

I made these cups for some of my friends:
Leigh has excellent "I hate everything" skills.
The next day, after a Halloween parade with Maybelle's class, mom and I went to a salon, where they dug into my hair.  I didn't know exactly what I was looking for.  This?
I wish.  Cool hair AND a Storm Trooper.
I didn't know.  All I knew was that I was going to have less hair than I'd ever had before (an article about this in the Charleston City Paper).  As I told one friend, the last time I had this small amount of hair was at birth.  I thought I'd have a little bit of grief.  I was prepared to feel the loss.

Instead, I was like, "Yes.  Cut all that hair off.  All of it!" Eagerness.  No grief.

They wouldn't cut all of it yet.  As one of my friends had pointed out, and as this salon person also noted, is that if they cut all my hair, there's not a damn thing I can do.  I'm stuck.  So instead, she tried a hair cut with some actual hair, and told me I should sit with it for a week.  If I still want my hair, come on in and they'll mess with it.

Here it is:


My new hair


Mama and Alison celebrating new haircut

Brian checking out Alison's hair

I think it's pretty cool.  But I might have them cut off more when Maybelle and I are back in Charleston.  Part of my head still presents brain-tumor-revelation, as it should:
Still all scarred


But the new hair also looks like I might be…stylistic.  Professional.

There are so many things I want to share:  Maybelle struggling with the changes she's experiencing.  The ways in which I continue to feel shitty.  How difficult it continues to be for me to ask for help.  My fucking fury that I might not be able to do the things I'd (foolishly) planned for this semester.

But it's taken me four days to write this blog post, so I'll stop for now.

17 comments:

  1. Bravo on writing a blog post. And you frame the shittiness very effectively. You wrap that shit up in a bow.

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    1. Thank you for recognizing my effective identification of shittiness.

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  2. Woot! You made it through! Congrats. By the way, the kids these days are shaving half their head - you could compromise with your stylist and look hip and bitchin at the same time ;)

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  3. If I ever needed someone to watch my back, I'd pick you. Love the fight and fury. I still remember the day I shaved my wife's head. It was the day she went to war against cancer........and won.
    Walter Golding

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    1. Whew, thank you, Walter! And I'm glad to hear that your wife won.

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  4. Congrats on finishing radiation, Alison! The haircut looks fabulous! --Morgan

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    1. Thanks, Morgan! I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. In the coming weeks, I hope!

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  5. alison, it is so good to read these updates! hooray for an end to radiation and a rad haircut to boot. thinking of you every day. much love. xoxo micah

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    1. xoxox back, Micah! And I'm excited that you're coming back to Charleston!

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  6. also, leigh looks like such a BA in that picture!

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  7. Radiation is wicked stuff. Glad you are done with it. Your smile is still great.

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    1. Thanks, Bonnie! I'm trying to make my life smile-able right now, rather than the pushing and pushing I'm doing to add to my to my days.

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  8. Great to hear from you and see you, Gorgeous!

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  9. You made it through! Congratulations, Alison. Huge, huge, milestone. So glad to see this post

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  10. From Rosemarie: So glad to hear from you and so glad to see your lovely face! Good for you forgetting the blog out. You are, as always, much in my thoughts. Love to you and your family.

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