Fortunately for me, and perhaps unfortunately for you who enjoy reading this, I don’t have too much to report these days. Things have been relatively “normal” and uneventful.
I go to work and hear things from hysterically sobbing five year olds like, “I lost my nametag! How will I know my name if I lost my nametag!?”
I’ve been exercising after work with my pre-k team. We do Zumba and boot camp! I’ve been running 2 and 3 miles a couple times a week (when it’s not raining).
I’ve been spending excessive amounts of time on Pinterest getting ideas for mine and Brian’s wedding. I’m trying to embrace the whole bride thing. I guess years of being disgusted by the commercialized wedding hype had turned me into something of an anti-bride.
I’m enjoying my wig very much! Shea Moisture products make the thing beautiful and silky. It’s so nice to do my hair once every 3 weeks and just plop it on my head every morning. It’s so much lighter and more manageable than my real hair.
My real hair continues to grow and fall out at the same time. I have something like male pattern baldness going on. I also continue to have to shave my legs and underarms regularly. The one thing that I was looking forward to with chemo… sigh.
Like any sensitive issue, I have developed my own personal lingo. Not quite “politically correct” but Sarah correct.
- When I tell people about my diagnosis, I no longer tell them “I was diagnosed with cancer”. I find that this frightens people. They look at me in horror, like I might drop dead at any moment. Lately, the conversation goes, Them: “Your hair looks so pretty!” Me: “Thanks! It’s actually a wig. I had a little bit of cancer (I hold up my thumb and pointer finger to demonstrate how much). It’s gone now, but I had to do chemo just in case.”
- Also, don’t call me “sick”. I’m not sick. Chemo could make me sick, but it usually doesn’t. It makes me sleepy and constipated.
That’s all for now. Thank goodness that’s all for now.