Now we're worried about those we know in the path of Hurricane Irma. ​

I'm already forgetting how it felt 12 days ago, when we hiked back to check on the house. We were still on edge, waiting for the river to crest... anxious as we visualized homes flooding.  For many in Texas and Florida, it will be a long time until there can be any forgetting.

Advice

It seems like we Texans should have advice for Florida. I feel like I should at least have some tips, for those very friends in the southeast who recently checked in on me!

We were lucky with Harvey. This was our third hurricane scare in 12 years. This was our first evacuation and I need to do my work and make notes to be better prepared if this ever happens again.  Like cancer, you hope it's a one time deal.  But I might as well figure out what I've learned from both experiences, so I can better help others.

We returned home after 4 days of mandatory evacuation. Our house didn't flood, but over 100,000 homes in our area were affected. I felt guilty that I got to sleep in my own bed that night. But no one really wants to hear about my survivor's remorse.

I was turned away because I wasn't 3 years cancer free. I no longer felt guilty. I felt mad.  Mad to be in that stupid cancer club with rules that make me feel like my blood is flawed. Mad that I couldn't join the club of Givers that was lined up.

​Relaxing When Others Aren't
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I started feeling guilty before we even knew our house was going to be safe.  We were invited to evacuate to a safe home just miles from ours. 

The sun came out by the second day and I was able to run... which helped with stress. The dry paths were lovely in the morning, but I could hardly enjoy, when I felt I should be helping others. Everything looked oddly normal, until I approached the closed grocery stores and restaurants. The sounds of rescue helicopters reminded me that all was not well.

How to Help?
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The day we got home, I began fretting over how to help. I saw images on TV of boat rescues and flooded homes with neighbors pitching in.  I wanted to jump in and be a part of the help. But how? I'm the person who doesn't do groups. This is when it pays to be a part of an organization that pulls together and helps others. So much for my independence. 

I wasted lots of time on the internet and phone, trying to find areas of need that were reachable. Don learned that a friend in the flooded and neglected town of Wharton, was preparing a BBQ for over 400. We drove out and delivered some goods, but there was little else for us to do. The small group seemed to have everything under control. I was in awe, watching how smoothly they prepared for the crowds, around pots of beans and rice and the giant grill.  This was a hardworking group, used to pulling together and helping one another. Cooking a pot of beans to feed 300 was no big deal. I took it in and vowed I would learn from what I saw.

Shelters and Centers

I felt disappointed the next day, that they didn't need my help when I showed up at an evacuation shelter in Richmond. I drove to a church shelter, but it had already closed. I don't know why it took me so long to realize I just needed to get back to being with the people in the centers, where I already volunteer. I had gone in circles for days, before returning to my senior groups and the kids at the Women's shelter. Everyone had been affected by the hurricane whether they had dealt with floods or not. 
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Helping Each Other

It was a joy to hug some of my sweet seniors and hear their stories.  We had all been worried about each other when the center was closed for 10 days. We shared and then we forgot about Harvey and distracted ourselves with fun. I left realizing they had helped me as much as I'd helped them.

Kids and More Seniors

My Alzheimer's group delighted me with their ability to live in the moment. No one was talking about hurricanes! Then I moved on, to the Women's Shelter where the moms were the happiest to see me. After almost 2 weeks of school closings, there was a fair amount of tension in the air. After games and songs, puppets and outside play I left the kids worn out... but not as worn out as me.

So, in the future I'll try to remind myself to keep this guilt thing from getting in the way. Sometimes my urge to race out there and do something "big" distracts me from caring about the people who are right near me. 

Exactly a week ago, we woke to images on TV of the devastation in Houston. I couldn't imagine the horrors of escaping, in flood waters. I worried about the people I knew in those areas, 20 miles from our home in Sugar Land. But, I didn't worry about our house. Fort Bend County has had 3 major floods in 3 years and we've always been fine. 
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A Week Ago, Sunday

On Sunday, we grew more concerned as we learned about the Brazos River, which borders our neighborhood. Predictions of rising waters had us slightly on edge. Then, late Sunday night we got word of the mandatory evacuation and I suddenly realized how unprepared we were.

Luckily we had until the next day, but we began frantically working. I texted and phoned friends and neighbors for the next couple of hours, carrying the phone with me as I made endless trips up and down stairs... carrying what we could from the first floor to what we hoped would be the dry floor. At 2 am, we tried to sleep for a few hours, but it wasn't restful.  

Monday Morning

This time last year, I had just begun chemo treatments and often pondered the obvious question. "What is really important?" I was more anchored to home then, with so much time to stare at the "stuff" surrounding me. I did spend some time in the late summer and fall, sorting, deciding, donating and discarding. Now it's clear, those efforts hardly made a dent.

On Monday, before we locked up, I took one last look and hoped "the stuff" would be safe. Surely my grandmother's bears, the Sicilian puppet and the Uncle Sam doll, would be safe upstairs. Downstairs the only thing I really worried about was the old Meyer family table. I was pretty sure if we flooded, our lame attempt to lift the pedestal on bricks would not keep water from the lion's mouths. I said good-bye to the house.

4 Nights Away... Then Home

During our hectic scramble to get out, we changed our evacuation plan 3 times. News of flooded roads stopped our attempts to leave town. We ended up staying in a safe home, thanks to our generous friends.

It felt odd that first night, to eat dinner in a nice home, 3 miles from our evacuated neighborhood. I allowed myself to imagine the river rising 59 feet and flooding all our homes. Oddly though, I felt calm. I thought back to those anxious hours of frantic decisions and stair climbing and it suddenly seemed like the biggest stress was over. "If we lose it all, that will be okay." (I may have been fooling myself) But maybe a year ago, I really did learn more about what's important. It seems so cliche, to claim your cancer taught you that. But this past year, I've begun to face the reality that our "treasures" and "keepsakes" can be a burden. I had 4 nights to stew over that, before we returned to our dry home.

We came home yesterday and I spent a fair amount of time planning how I could volunteer this week. Today, I have spent many hours making more decisions as I put things back in order... and box up the things, I now plan to part with.

We returned to Texas humidity after 1 week of blissfully cool weather in Michigan. 

We headed to long term parking in a crowded shuttle with other weary travelers. I was dreaming of being back in Michigan with beaches, wineries and bikes, when I noticed the woman seated in front of me.

I really don't go around thinking about cancer much, anymore.  But usually there's a cancer commercial or a magazine ad that forces me to remember. My week away from TV, newspapers and internet had given me a break from those reminders. 

Even the days spent with my brother and his wife had been free of cancer talk. I'm finally at a point where not everyone is asking how I feel, or commenting on my hair growth. 

I hope that sad looking woman with gray curls, was just tired like me. Maybe those weren't chemo curls at all. And hopefully she was thinking of something nice, like the trip she'd just enjoyed.

I really don't like clothes shopping. Changing rooms are exhausting and price tags are scary. But this past weekend was different.  I sat on a cozy couch, drinking champagne with 2 of my daughter's bridesmaids. Heidi did all the work. Oh, how I wish shopping could always be like this!

I remember feeling so happily distracted that day. I still wasn't finished with chemo but I felt energized with the fun. When I look at this photo, I sigh... then laugh. "Hmm, I might need to toss that wig back on, if my hair doesn't show some improvement!"  Who knows what my hair will be doing in November or March. I might be the one who needs the veil!

The Focus

But luckily, the spotlight won't be on me.  And this past Saturday, I couldn't have been happier, having the focus on Heidi with her friends. I love my role.

What fun to listen to the girls' banter... their comments and humor. I can't stop being grateful for the timing. I'm so glad that it's July 2017... not 2016!
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Lucky Me!

I feel healthy and energized just knowing what's ahead! These 2 beautiful "brides" (and their handsome grooms) are making it hard for me to add to my Not Happy List! 

Last week, we started our drive west and detoured, for a hike in Oklahoma. Not exactly a challenging elevation, but it was over 8 miles and steep and rocky at times. It felt good to suddenly say, "Now, I'm myself again!"

No reason to look back and compare, anymore. What's next?  I don't know, but I kind of like the whimsical look of the balls (with people inside) floating on Maggie Pond, outside of our hotel. We'll see.

Here I am with a different look. I'm sure I won't have the patience to blow out all those curls like Christina did, but at least I know it can be done now. My gray is gone for now. I wish I'd felt content enough to keep it, but I was so ready for a change. I'm going to enjoy this for a while.

I checked out and asked the nurse if she knew of a good place to donate cancer related books and magazines. I wanted to share some of the things that had been helpful to me. She showed me their basket and I filled it.

I wasn't sure how well the woman understood English, but I tried to explain that I wanted her to have the gift that I had received. She couldn't thank me enough. I told her I would share the photo with Bonnie, who sent the bear to me. And I did.

So today, I passed my final exam. This impromptu bear adoption brought perfect closure to my year!

I didn't know there was such a day, but today is it. I don't love that survivor term, so I don't have much desire to celebrate it.  But my friend, Terri enlightened me. We met up for an event on Friday.

Healing Through Art

We slapped on our name tags and Terri turned to greet me, with only a hint of smile. "Hi, my name is Survivor."  We sat at a round table and introduced ourselves to 2 others, before using our gift pens to write our real names.

I sobered myself by studying the table decoration. A paint can with flowers and paint brushes. That was cute.

After the 2-hour program we were invited to take Survivor photos with the frame. They also wanted a group photo of all the survivors.  Terri and I were close to sneaking out the door. It felt like we were the bad Girl Scouts... too cool for school. But we headed over and stood up tall and smiled through the big white frame. I'm glad to have a picture of me with my buddy, who paved the way in this breast cancer thing. We clicked years ago, before cancer. We connected through art programs and now we connect even more because of our common experience.    

Before rushing out, Terri and I did join in with the group photo. We left, chuckling and shaking our heads. Our meet up with other Cancer Survivors shouldn't have been a hard thing to process.  But we both drove home through rain, feeling a little confused. I got a text later saying, "I think we're just closet survivors."  I think we are.  I'm not sure how much of my reluctance is with the word survivor and how much is about being labeled anything at all. But we're planning to work on this together.  We'll see if these Closet Survivors come out.

Yesterday, I got back on the horse with another appointment. I had my annual Well Woman exam, with my nurse practitioner.  I felt slightly anxious as I entered the waiting room, remembering last May, when Janine shared concern about a lump. That was the beginning... my bump in the road.  But yesterday, Janine greeted me with a huge smile and hug. It felt like my appointment was more about a celebration than a required exam.

Today

I dreaded my mammogram today, but I was eager for it to be over. I expected to leave knowing that everything was good... or everything wasn't good. My appointment a year ago had included an ultrasound, which meant I got results that day. Today, I was told it would be over a week to get my report and if there were concerns, I'd be called back.  What!  

Even though I've been feeling 99% sure that I'm fine, I suddenly felt that ache of worry, like I felt at my appointment on May 23, 2016. That was the day, I was told I needed to come back for a biopsy. I remember feeling a wave of gloom, as if I already knew the outcome. I asked the nurse last year, "How long for results? Do I cancel my 2 week trip to Colorado."  Today, I saw the same nurse and once again asked,  "How long till I find out results? I'm leaving town."  I explained that I was going on the same Colorado trip that we had canceled last year. She understood my stress and smiled with a look that told me she wasn't worried.  "I've been doing this a long time." She assured me that she had no concerns. I'm pretty sure she wasn't supposed to tell me that.
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​Oh my. Waiting again, but it's different this time.  I'm pretty sure we're going to Colorado!

I also remember how I loved the happy graduation distraction. The festive gatherings halted my fretting, over the recent discovery of a lump. Luckily my mammogram came a week later, so I celebrated without real knowledge. My cancer diagnosis came at the end of May. 

No Time for Worries This Year

I wish I had photos of the ceremony, later that day at Hill Auditorium. At least my written words help me recall... How 9-month-old Scott sat on my lap and 3-year-old Heidi squealed and shook her stuffed bunny. "Cheer for Uncle Dave!" I encouraged, as my brother crossed the stage to accept his diploma. The words in my journal remind me that I looked over at Mom and wondered how she felt, as she watched her youngest son graduate from law school.

On Saturday, I understood how proud my mom felt on that Mother's Day, 27 years ago. I also felt a giddiness to watch my brother on that stage, without Scott on my lap! They were up there together, this time!
​

Grateful

So this May, I feel grateful for so many things. Grateful that I am here, since it was exactly a year ago today, that I went in for a biopsy. May 2016 was not my favorite May, but I think it helped make this one my best. I believe I'm more able to feel gratitude. I feel more thankful than ever before, for family near and far. And I've learned that it's okay to feel proud of your kids, your spouse, your family or yourself!

What a good month!

I'm happy to remember a year ago, when Don and I stopped in Tulsa and spent a couple hours laughing with our dear friends, the Harts.  We hadn't seen each other in years, but only spent a little time focusing on the past.  We were too excited to talk about the future. We knew our families would be together soon, celebrating the wedding of Kim and Dan's daughter. 

This past week, Don and I joined Kim and Dan in Florida.  When they Initially invited us, I took a look at the calendar and thought there was no way we could join them.  But in this crazy year, I've reminded myself that waiting for a better time, isn't always the best strategy. We had 4 fabulous days, enjoying whatever the weather brought us... sun, wind or thunderstorm. We enjoyed the moments... as well as a few old stories! 
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From Oklahoma to Florida

In this week-old photo, my hair seems to be the only reminder of change.  I could ponder all that has happened or changed in the 12 months since we saw Dan and Kim in Tulsa. Instead, I'll focus on the future.

We'll see Dan and Kim in November, at our son's wedding... if not before!

I had 2 weeks in Mexico to celebrate the fact that I feel so darn good. No hairdryers and no worries.  For about the first time in adult life, I dove into pools and the surf whenever I felt like it.  Not once did I worry about keeping my hair dry. My showers were fast and I often went to dinner with my wet hair slicked back.

Open Windows

Since this was a non-glam trip for us, Don and I spent many hours in taxis with no air-conditioning and buses with open windows. I felt like a happy pup, with my face to the window, feeling the warm air blast away. I didn't have to fight my own hair whipping into my face.  My short, gray curls just did their own little dance on top of my head. It's a new world.

Wind Blown and Happy

The wind did strange things to my hair. Even Don had a new style going, after this boat ride. I still don't know where I'm going with my hair style, but I enjoyed 2 weeks of not caring!  

But I refuse to complain. Tomorrow we leave for Mexico. I won't even complain about the 6 am flight. But the biggest thrill is that my packing is a whole lot less complicated now. After years of packing hairdryers and brushes, I am packing a comb. Even better than leaving a hairdryer at home, is leaving behind the wigs, the scarves and chemo caps!

Woohoo! This is pretty darn exciting!

It also helps ease the pain of a new decade, when you know your daughter has written a special memory on each of those 60 stars, before they were folded!

I decided we should spend my birthday at the cabin in the Texas Hill Country. It seemed like a good idea, to spend a day or two without TV and Trump news. The bluebonnets were also a lure.

Birthday Greetings from Afar

On my birthday I enjoyed some calls and messages, but I especially loved my singing phone call! Scott and Chali's "Happy Birthday Song" came all the way from Virginia, where they were involved in a wedding. That made me laugh. I was excited to thank them for the gift they'd sent.  A tiny donkey pin with abalone saddle! I squealed like a kid with a birthday toy, when I opened it.  Scott and Cha know how much I adore donkeys and they know I love tiny things. I've spent this year channeling the stubborn donkey spirit to kick cancer. Now I'll wear my pin and kick this old age stuff!
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Parties?

So my Big Day has passed and I enjoyed every bit.  I no longer need a party and balloons to make me happy. I have family and friends who are there for me year round. That's what I learned this year. So instead of a lot of party hoopla, I chose a way to celebrate all year and I'm going to do it with the spirit of a 6-year-old!

A New Blog

These celebrations may last just a moment, like eating ice cream with a mechanical ride-on-horse. Or they could last an afternoon, like the day I spent with furry animals! My new blog will once again, force me to have some fun!

Check Up
I just got back from my 3 month check up with the oncologist. (Since starting Letrozole meds) I was thrilled to hear my blood work looked great. I even got some hair compliments, since this was the first time I walked in the office, wig-free!

Then I was told to put on a gown. I hate breast exams, especially since it was one such exam that got me on this road, last May.  But in truth I was a oddly relieved when I knew I was getting one. 

Since June
After diagnosis, but before my lumpectomy, it seemed like everyone in the world was focused on my breasts. It's an odd thing to have so many doctors and nurses handling those "turkeys" as my Great Aunt Margueritte  used to call them. After a few weeks the focus changed.

Post Surgery
Then suddenly the focus was on the scores, the tests, the machines, the chemo, the radiation machine.  Even if I was examined, my scars were being looked at, or my skin. "What about these lumps!" I asked repeatedly. I was told they would go away... post surgery stuff... not to worry.

Time Goes On
Then after Christmas, I suddenly wasn't seeing doctors on a regular basis. There was no one checking up on me to make sure all was well. For 3 months, I tried to believe the doctors were right about those lumps being okay. 

All's Good!
So, today I was happy to have a breast exam by the oncologist and to hear the words again, that all was okay. Some of the "lumps" are just tightness due to radiation. It will go away and massage can help.

It was a relief to have a good report today.  But I still have more than a month until my diagnostic mammogram. I'm going to be really, really happy to get that one behind me.

Mary eventually told me about a man she'd met at a nursing home who had hair just like mine. ​ That just cracked me up. She wasn't in love with my hair. She was in love with a memory. "Well I hope he was handsome." I said. And I'm guessing he was by the way she grinned.  Then Mary's story made me think of my dad's wavy hair. He is not in a nursing home, but I'm guessing Mary would think my dad was pretty handsome.

But I love sweet Myrna, who was so good to my mom. Those words made me laugh and then smile. I will take that compliment, happily.

And I especially don't mind, when they lead me to thinking about other special people.

Since my last fretful post, I decided it was time for a trim. After 10 salon-free months, I was happy to pay a professional... even if there was hardly anything to cut. 

Who's Going to Cut It?

I could have just gone back to my good barbers! Don was wonderful with my initial hair shaving and a few good trims. But he is not a pro. My buddy, A.D. from Richmond Barber Shop shaved my head last October with such warmth and patience. But now I need someone who can work with me to find flattering short cuts... for women.

My Wig Trimmer

Then I got on Facebook and felt worse. I allowed myself to look at the FB page of a friend who died of breast cancer a few years ago. I looked at her photos, as if she could offer me support with her brave smile. But it made me sad to see her.  It was a little scary too, to see a little of me in her photos... smiling with her bald head or new hair growth. I had to stop looking.

My Appointment

She understood I wanted to grow my hair longer, but she helped me feel confident about what I have on my head now. "I don't know... your eyes really stand out with your short hair!" And she seemed sincere.

A Difference?

There wasn't a ton of my hair on the floor when Christina finished, but I felt like a huge weight had lifted. Most people probably wouldn't see much difference, but I felt like a new person when I left. I just felt less sloppy after things had been trimmed and evened up.  Mostly, I felt relieved to know I now have someone I think I can trust in the months ahead, to face this hair growth thing. That is, if I decide to grow it!  

 

This would all be much easier if I had a friend who shared my post chemo issues. That's what I get for being super independent and not seeking out support groups or exchanging numbers with people I met in waiting rooms. I'm on my own now.

The buddy system helped 30 years ago and I I could use it now... even without the fun reward at the end.

Shopping helped! Don found a ridiculously fun instrument that he insisted I needed. It amused me to no end. I found some nifty, clip-on ties for $2.50 each, which we wore on an evening hike. The rubber boots seemed to complete the outfit.

So I found out that I do like bows, just not hair bows. These (along with my hat) take the focus right off my hair! Time to think about other things!

In fact, one summer When I was 16, I asked my parents if they would pay me to be "maid" once a week. I worked from 8 to 5, cleaning the entire house for our family of 6 for $15.00. I complained in my diary, but also noted... "I don't mind having a long period of time by myself.  There's no brainwork involved, so I have a lot of time to think."  I still sort of feel that way.

But it's the bigger spaces that I've recently dug into.  The garage! Do we need 5 basket balls? It felt good to get started. I was reminded of days as a kid, when my dad would get on a cleaning streak and the whole family went to work in the garage or yard. Cleaning in a group, is a whole different thing. I miss that.

Did I Finish?

I've made progress, but the garage is not done.  That's  because I have things like bottle cap collections that need to be played with. (I wasted a lot of time!) I like to give myself an excuse for hoarding, since I used bottle caps with my Kindergarten class for math and science games. That was 35 years ago. 

Cleaning the Cabin

I plunged in for a totally different kind of cleaning at our cabin in the Texas Hill Country. We don't have clutter there... just cobwebs and dust. It's exhausting work with ladders and long tools. (I broke my mega tool!) I sort of like this kind of cleaning, with no big decisions. 

My hair is actually so crazy these days that I should be hiding under a scarf or hat, but I refuse to wear the things that remind me of my chemo days. So now I'm figuring out where to donate my cancer-themed stuff.

The Wig

So I closed the wig up inside its box and put it on a high shelf, out of view. I hoped to avoid the same bad luck that happens when you leave your umbrella at home... causing it to rain. 

Good-Bye Knee Brace
​I did however get rid of the 20-year-old, $1000.00 knee brace from my ACL surgery. Hopefully I'm not tempting fate.

Here's a mighty fine throwback photo of that brace... and my mom, washing bird poop out of my hair...on Mother's Day!  I miss Mom!

So there was no joking with nurses. I was not chatty. When the nurse said the doctor was running late, I begged to please be given that pre-surgery cocktail a little early. I wasn't kidding. I didn't have my usual humor, but I did have Don. Poor guy was once again thrown into the role of caregiver. I laid on my "bed" waiting to be wheeled away and tried to appreciate that. I took my old donkey from the bag and had my cheering duo pose for me.  

What was that surgery anyway?

I mentioned a cancelled surgery in a December blog. I had to cancel that surgery when my insurance wouldn't cover the surgery center. I put it off until symptoms wouldn't allow.

I got the okay, this time around and psyched myself up. I cleared my calendar, which was frustrating since I'd finally gotten back to a volunteer schedule. I told family and a few friends, but this was not a status to be announced on Facebook. I have already reached the maximum number of prayers you can ask for on Facebook. Plus who wants to read, "Send prayers, Y'all! I'm having hemorrhoid surgery today!" Yep, that's the unspeakable subject, that I swore I wouldn't blog about.

I'm on day 10 of a 2-4 week recovery. I knew what I was getting into and luckily things have gone a lot better than the post-op horror stories I've read about on the internet. I haven't had any agonizing trips to ER and I haven't screamed so loud that I worried my neighbors. I think I should thank my doctor for prescribing the right drugs and I should thank myself for being a good patient and doing my job.  I've taken 4 baths a day and stayed on a strict diet that includes none of my comfort foods. No dairy means no cheese and ice cream! No wine and no coffee! And in order to let my drugs do their work, I've put up with many days of wooziness. I've staggered like a drunk woman. I've gotten carsick trying to read and I've seen double on TV. But that has passed.  

Hermit Life
Now that I'm not foggy and horribly uncomfortable, I'm able to ponder this odd recovery period. (Google it because I'm not wasting space) I wouldn't wish the first week on anyone, but the second week has allowed me to enjoy my secret passion... being a hermit. Even during 8 months of cancer treatment, I didn't allow myself the luxury of being this much of a hermit. Having an embarrassing health has meant less support, but also freedom from make up and hair worries! 

In fact, the timing of this has been perfect. I have had some very creepy-curly hair growth in the past weeks. I plan on wearing hats for a very long while. 

Actually, I'm no longer feeling numb toes, but I was two months ago. I was surprised when the neuropathy from chemo actually returned after radiation. It wasn't bad, but it was a reminder that I had recently dealt with cancer. I hate being reminded of that. But the other day I had to be reminded that the neuropathy is gone!

Chinese Foot Massage

When you live in Houston, you have over 100 options for foot massage spas. I checked out the reviews and picked this place in Houston's huge Asian neighborhood. Maybe this photo looks a little eerie, but I was a lot more comfortable stepping into this room with 8 lounge chairs, than I was entering a Chinese Foot Parlor in China a few years ago.

​Helps to Have a Friend

A lot of girlfriends do pedicures together, but it's hard to find a friend who wants to go on a mysterious foot parlor adventure with you.  Luckily my friend Milissa was visiting from Chicago and she was pretty darn game. In this photo, we were ready to go, with feet in tubs, dark lights and traditional music wafting through the room. I'm glad I found the nerve to ask my foot therapist (in whisper) if she would take our photo.

Ready for Surgery

I may look like I'm ready to go under the knife, but I must tell you, that sheet covered recliner was pretty darn comfy compared to all the medical tables and beds I've experienced this past year. Also, I am wearing clothes. I was wearing a pinkish shirt and rolled up sweat pants under that sheet. Speaking of pink... what about those pink walls?  I sure hope we didn't disturb the two getting their foot massages across from us.

The Bucket

I need to mention that the 1-hour foot massage was only $20.00. I also need to mention that our 1-hour foot massage was not just feet.  First my feet were put into a wooden bucket of not-quite-scalding water. Then magical hands went to my head and pressed on my forehead and wiggled my ears and massaged my scalp. After my shoulders, I felt the hands return to my feet for good period of time. Luckily a towel was placed over my face, or I would have looked at Milissa and laughed... especially when my therapist burped.

I Forgot

When our therapists finished whacking and chopping our clothed bodies, we grinned and tiptoed back through the foot room. We tipped well and left happy.

This foot/shopping adventure reminded me to be appreciative of a number of things. I no longer have achy feet or scalp. I have short hair that handles massage abuse.  And I have an amazing friend who was up for a not so traditional girlfriend outing!

This is the change in 5 weeks.  I'd be fine with the curls, if their growth was more predictable. It really is getting a little wilder every day. 

What Else?  I have done lab work, so I can rule out all sorts of things.  But maybe I've got some lingering issues from chemo or radiation.  Or maybe I've suddenly become lactose intolerant. No! Don't take my cheese! Or maybe it's the Biotin I've been taking for hair growth for months!  Pretty darn sure that's not it.

The Positive

I always end on a positive note, so I will mention that my Biotin vitamins are really working!  Actually, I have no idea if it's helping hair or lashes. They were going to come back anyway.  But for the first time ever, I have fingernails that go snappity snap on my keyboard.  This is fun. I feel so grown up with my lady nails! 

A few friends have boosted my confidence with reminders of fantastic looking celebrities with darling short haircuts. I had some fun looking at photos. Now, if I could just have their young complexions and million dollar smiles and bodies and wardrobes to help me pull off the pixie hair. That would take a lot of money and a time machine.

Lorie and I have never stopped communicating since our high school days. She's been on my mind lately, especially since she recently gave me some hair tips.  Funny, I never would have had the nerve to cut my hair so short, like Lorie. But I have this great chance to try it out!  How often do we get a little push to "change our image"? Yes, I can have fun and let this hair push me to wear new things... change it up a bit... even go so far to be inspired to try something new like painting or dancing. But mostly, I need to just be inspired by Lorie, to wear it like I chose it!  I'm going to own this hair... at least for now!