Chem 1, Day 10

Today was THE day -- we shaved my head. Talk about an emotional roller coaster! I closed my eyes as I couldn't look when the first buzzes started and tears rolled down my cheeks. They still do as I type this 12 hours later!

Daughters and granddaughters plus a wonderful hairstylist, Rebecca, at The Mane Team Salon, were there to support and do the deed. Rebecca is a dear. She accepted no payment for her work. On top of that, she gave me two wig heads, eye lashes, special shampoo and berets for me. We will meet up again so she can show me how to put on the lashes and further tailor the main wig. The wig will take some time to get used to; I found it to be tight and caused a headache.

Rebecca also came up with an idea that we had previously visited on this blog . . . adding hair to a hat. Cousin Valerie shared how a wig was made as well. We just might do it!

See, I had purchased a rather large and long partial wig that I was going to throw a hat or scarf over when I didn't feel like wearing the main wig. It was triple the cost of my Courage wig (isn't that a neat name for my wig?). For Rebecca to cut the long wig to suit my style - I'm not one for long hair - would have skewed things so bad that if a stiff wind came, you'd be seeing my little bald head.

I will have some pictures on the blog of this monumental day very soon. I am challenged on exporting pics from my camera to the computer. Not as easy as our previous camera, that's for sure. And for those who know me and want to see the "real" pictures, email me. lol Hey! I'm not putting the bad and the ugly out there for the world to see! Without my hair, I can differentiate my mother's and father's facial features in me. In fact, I look more like my mom than I ever thought.

On another note, I am fighting an infection or my blood counts had zeroed out. I have mouth sores once again, with a lump in the throat. I'm thinking it must be a sore in the esophagus. There are other physical ailments going on which would fall under TMI.

With the sleepiness on Friday, a start of a temperature that night, and an angry looking red mark on my port incision where the needle had gone in - I assumed it was an infection. The Oncologist prescribed some antibiotics Saturday morning. Poor Victor - when he walks into Bartell's the clerk immediately gets my drugs. They don't even ask who it's for.

After the hair cut, I had the shaking chills and was spiking a temperature up to 100.6 - which either item means an immediate call to the doctor. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

It could be a sign of low blood counts. The Oncologist said that I could come into the ER, have them run the blood tests, or I could give the antibiotics another 12 hours and see where we were. He mentioned the possibility of being admitted to the hospital. Umm, okay; let's do everything possible NOT to have that happen.

I woke up on Sunday morning, Day 11, at 1 am with shaking chills and a 100.5 temperature. Guess we are going to the ER as soon as it is light out and Vic wakes up. . . . and I get the laundry done, eat some breakfast, pick up the clutter, etc. :-) I'm such an excuse-maker aren't I?

Peace to you and your family,

Renee

P.S. At 6 am, my temp was down to 99.4, so we aren't going to the hospital right now.