Summer's coming... or is it here?

Summer is here in Canada; well, officially, it will be here in another week or so, but it's starting to feel like Summer, which to me means it's here. I love the warmer weather, and I love the smells and sights of Summer. The grasses are green, the flowers are in bloom, and we can leave our windows wide open at night and feel the gentle breezes waft in all the smells of fresh cut lawns and barbecues.

Being a cancer survivor, there are some things I used to live for doing in the Summer that I no longer can allow myself to indulge in. Gone are the days of going to the beach slathered in tanning lotion, turning myself at least a good 6 shades darker than my natural color in just a few days. Now I find myself wearing SPF 35 sunscreen to take a simple walk. That is fine; a small price to pay for keeping my health. Besides, I'm learning the benefits of self-tanners. I tell myself that in another 20 years, when all my friends look like old pieces of leather, my skin will still be baby soft. (It's the small comforts that help. :P)

Also gone are the casual comforts of summer. It's been over a year since my last radiation treatment, yet I'm still waiting for that lush, thick head of hair that I was told comes after having chemo. My hair has not been so kind to me. It IS growing back, don't get me wrong, but my hair is stuck in the toddler phase of being fine and willowy. (I even went so far as to purchase a "beauty spell" from an Ebay Genie, asking her to please make my hair grow back thick and lush and beautiful. Laugh at me if you will, but it only cost me $5.95, and I believe in the supernatural.)  Not to complain (even though I am complaining), I am grateful to have my hair growing back, and I am grateful to be alive. There are more important things in life than hair. My family, my health, my friends, are all great reasons that I can think of and name. The thing that sometimes gets me a bit down, is remembering a few years ago, in the summer, just being able to put my hair into a ponytail and  not having to worry about how it looks. Nowadays, I wear my wig at any and all times when I am out of the house, or even when company visits. There are few people that I feel comfortable showing my "real" hair to.

I remember a year or so before I got sick; my hair started thinning, and eventually got quite noticeable. My ponytail was down to about less than half it's original size, and eventually less than a third of that. At the time, not knowing that I was sick, I thought it was due to the stress of working a job that I dreaded going to, my poor diet, possibly thyroid problems (which run in my family),  or a result of the years of abuse I had put my hair through since the age of 15. I had bleached my hair many times (bleaching to the roots of my hair, a huge NO-NO!), coloring my hair two or three times a month, and many other hair sins that would make any hairdresser cringe and scold me. I kind of thought at the time that my hair was punishing me for years of neglect and abuse. (Side note- if anyone out there has had chemo, and your hair is growing back, do not bleach it or color it for at least a year. My doctor told me it could lead your new hair to fall out, this time permanently!)

When I finally learned that I had cancer, my doctor told me that my hair loss was a visible symptom that my body had been fighting an unknown illness for so long. The hair is actually one of the first places that your body shows visible signs of ill health, and it can signal a number of illnesses. I had been sick for well over a year, constantly exhausted and feeling as though I were depressed or had mono, and had no clue that the reason was because my body was trying to fight cancer.

After my first chemo treatment, I remember standing in front of my bathroom mirror, "pulling a GI Jane," as I called it, shaving my head with the buzz clippers. It was so empowering, and so freeing. I still have my ponytail that I cut off before shaving down the rest of my head. I wore my wig with confidence. At the time, I didn't feel self-conscious about wearing a wig. I was going through cancer treatments, and wearing a wig felt like a natural part of the process. Now, almost two years after my first chemo treatment, wearing a wig feels like I am still "the cancer patient." I want to get past that image of myself as being sick. I am recovered now, and I want my outward appearance to reflect it. As shallow and superficial as that may be, it is how I feel inside my heart.

I know there are so many more important things in life than hair, and appearances. However, as a woman in North America, and more specifically as a woman working in the Beauty Industry, I realize how so much of how we perceive ourselves and those around us revolves around appearances. I know it's not right, or fair, but how often is life right or fair? It is a sign of the culture that we live in. And I am a product of that culture.

I suppose a simple solution to the discomfort of wearing a wig in summer would be to wear a scarf or hat. Those are viable options, but I've always had long hair, and I feel it adds to my sense of femininity. Around the house, yes, I will wear a scarf or hat. But at work, or out on the town, I will suffer for my vanity.Also, I do not like the feeling of having strangers look on me with pity because I had cancer. It's not that I am ashamed of having cancer, quite the opposite, I am very proud of what I have overcome. It's more the fact that I don't want people to pity me, when I feel there is no reason to pity myself. (Although this post may sound like a pity party, I don't intend it to. I am more just rambling to myself trying to make sense of how I feel and why I feel this way.)

~On a more positive note, the great thing about wearing a wig, is that I can actually take my hair off when it gets too hot to handle! I also don't have to worry about bad hair days or frizzies, or spending long hours straightening my hair.~

So for now, I am going to continue wearing my itchy sweaty wig, lol, and I am going to wear it with pride.

On working in the Beauty Industry: Gwen Stefani said it best: "Magic's in the make-up/ I can fool you/ and attract attention" I currently work for Canada's oldest department store in the cosmetic department as a Beauty Advisor. The irony is not lost on me. Some days, it is hard to come into work and feel "beautiful" when still, after over a year has passed since my last radiation, I have to wear a wig to work because my own hair has not fully grown back yet. It is on days like these that I remind myself that my hair is only a very small part of my package, my identity. My real beauty comes from my character. On the other hand, working in the beauty department can be lots of fun! Getting to experiment with all the new products, and perform make-overs on customers is great fun. I go to work each day feeling excited, because I am going to a job where I actually look forward to working. I also, as small as it may be, like to think that I bring joy into women's lives. I get to help women feel better about themselves, and express their own beauty. This coming Sunday, our store is holding a "Gala" to support Look Good Feel Better, a program that I attended when I was sick.

HoTtIe FlAsHeS

One thing I feel the need to warn anyone reading about are the hot flashes that accompany Tamoxifen. OMG they are hot! One minute I am cool and fine, the next I am dying and just want to pull my wig off in the middle of the store! Yikes!

Does anyone know any good remedies for hot flashes?

Why Me?

At times it's hard not to think, "Why did this happen to me?" They say God doesn't give you more than you can handle. I'm lucky. It could have been a million times worse. I caught it early and I have to think that something good will come of this.

Bad things happen to everyone at some point or other. Some people just seem to have a longer string of bad events than others. I believe, that for every bad thing that happens to you, something twice as good will happen also. So, if I have worse luck than most, then my luck is also far better than most. You need to experience the lows to appreciate the highs.

Besides, if it hadn't happened to me, it could have happened to someone close to me. Better to me, than to someone I love. I can handle what happens to me. I know how much I can take. Seeing someone I love being sick would be unbearable, because I would worry it was too much for them to handle.

I believe that a certain amount of negatives have to exist in our world for the positives to be possible. So if it is meant for me to experience more negatives than some people do, then that would prevent other people from experiencing those instead.

So when I think, "Why me?" I stop myself and say, "Who better than me?"

Weekend at Cara’s (from my journal - Sept 30-Oct 1, 2010)

I got to Cara’s at about 7 or 8 pm. Jalen was not impressed. Lol. Blame it on BH and our cuddle session. But HOW could I say no? It was worth every minute.

I arrived there to find her and her friend Rob listening to remix CD’s that he had made for her. He is a cop and part time DJ at the local bar. The remix CD’s were totally vibing with my steroid high. I was nearly dancing in my seat, and VERY hyper. I was talking a mile a minute and they both had the biggest eyes looking at me, thinking that “This girl is NUTS!” Cara was really worried, and asked me,”Oh, God, you are gonna keep me up ALL night long, aren’t you?” I said, “Don’t worry; they gave me Ativan to bring me down again before bed. I’m all set.”

I kept asking Rob to get me a pair of official police handcuffs, with keys, to go along with my naughty police officer outfit. He was laughing, thinking I was joking. I was so not joking.

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Chemo Session # 2 (from my journal - Sept 30, 2010)

I went to my second chemo session alone. I told my mother that I am totally capable of doing it myself. I actually prefer doing things alone. I’ve always been kind of a loner. I dressed for the occasion as well. I wore my black leather pirate boots. They zip almost up to the knee, with buckles on the sides, and lined in leopard print! I also wore my tight black jeans, a black off the shoulder top, and my black leather riding jacket. I looked sooo badass and like Dark Angel. I decided that I am gonna kick chemo’s ass, and not the other way around!

So, here I am, sitting in my lazyboy chair, letting the nurse hook my PICC line up to the IV tubes for my treatment, and looking damn good for someone on chemo. I’m going to call myself ChemoGirl, because I am damn ChemoSexy! I told the nurse that I am loving the steroids, since they made me so high on life, that I couldn’t stop dancing around the house, and am so in love with life! She laughed and said that if you aren’t used to steroids, they can be quite the high. She brought me my steroids (5 of them, boys I will be flying tonight!), and anti-nauseants, saying, “Enjoy your steroids!” with a laugh. The nurse told me that I probably won’t have another period for the duration of my treatments. I said, “This keeps getting better and better! I might stay on chemo forever! I haven’t had to shave my legs or underarms in a few weeks now, I have awesome looking hair, and that I’m fitting jeans that haven’t fit me in over 3 years! I love this!” I told her I am going to get a t-shirt that says “I heart My Chemo” because of all the side effects that I have so far! She just said, “That’s great how you are looking at the positive side of things!” and laughed.

While I am sitting in the chair with the chemo cocktail running through my veins, I got a text message from none other than Beautiful Hotness. What a surprise! I thought BH had totally forgotten about me since our encounter almost a month ago.

Beautiful Hotness is so-called by me because BH is made up of a physical beauty that is near perfection and almost painful to look at. Perfect beautifully featured face, great hair, and totally chiselled rock hard bod. The kind of beauty that almost seems unfair when compared with mere mortals. The amazing thing is that BH thinks I am hot and sexy! It somehow seems impossible, but hey, I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. There are times when the fates bless us, and fate has blessed me with a few amazingly passionate encounters with this Beautiful Hotness.

BH texted me to let me know they were in town for the afternoon and would love to come see me for some cuddles before heading back home. Awwwww. How could I say no to that? I mean, really, I can’t say no to anything THAT beautiful. Add the fact that BH is a total sweetheart and a softie, there was no way I could refuse. BH and I traded texts for a few hours while the chemo ran its course, talking about how much we could not wait to see each other later in the afternoon for our cuddle session. I was sitting in the chemo room with the biggest, goofiest grin on my face. What a great day!

BH arrived at my place at about 5 pm. We ate pizza, then went upstairs to my room for our cuddles. It was so sweet. Turns out BH was headed on a trip, and came over to see me before leaving on vacation. I thought that was really cute.

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Look Good, Feel Better (from my journal - Sept 29, 2010)

“There’s more than one dimension/
I can fool you and/ attract attention/...
But I want to be the real thing/
But if you catch my eyes can’t be authentic/...
My makeup’s all off/
Who am I?”
Magic’s in the Makeup by No Doubt

I am a makeup girl. A girlie girl. My makeup is my safety blanket. I do not like leaving the house, or even beginning my day, without it. The whole process of applying it in the morning is like a ritual that strengthens me for the day ahead.

After my morning shower, I like to get in the front of the mirror, and begin the ritual. I stand there with my bald little alien head and take inventory. Any new wrinkles? No, good. Any blemishes? A few, so let’s cover those up, after we apply the lotion.

Ok, applying cover up. I apply this under my eyes and on my eyelids. I make sure to cover my two little stork bites, one on each cheek. They never get completely covered though. Next: my foundation. I put it onto a sponge, and dab it all over my face. Then I go crazy with the loose powder puff. After my face is suitably matte, I might apply some blush to the apples of my cheeks. Then I apply numerous coats of mascara to my lashes, both upper and lower. After chemo, I swear I am getting eyelash extensions. They haven’t fallen out (YET, knock on wood), but I really want impossibly long and fake looking lashes without the hassle of mascara. Also, this way, guys will think that they are naturally this long and lush! Anyway, after the mascara, I work on my eye shadow. I apply a shimmery shade of light beige to the entire lid, then a musky shade of brown to the lid and crease. I finish it off with a shimmery dusting of pink sparkle to the entire lid. Lightly fill in my brows. Then apply dark espresso brown liner to my bottom lash line, and line the upper lid pinup Betty Page style with dark brown-black liquid liner. I finish it off with shimmery glossy lips. Now, I am ready to face my day!

Oh, wait! Almost forgot to put on my wig! Ha ha. Now, that would be a sight wouldn’t it? Totally made up face, and a funny little bald alien head wearing just a wig cap. I almost have a cone head. Ok, wig is on, and NOW I am ready to face my day.

Look Good, Feel Better is a free program offered to women with cancer. They provide you with a complimentary makeup kit, and teach you how to apply make up and take care of your skin during chemotherapy. It’s a great program, and all funded by donations.
I arrive at the hospital, and take my seat in the conference room. There are about 12 women attending. Each participant has a lady from LGFB to sit with her and help go through the application process.

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