Adolescence Redux?

Who knew acne was a possible side effect of chemo?  I didn't, but I do now.  Woke up yesterday morning with a major breakout, from chin on up into the front part of my scalp.  I don't know about you, but revisiting that particular aspect of adolescence was not on my wish list.  Oh well.  I lived through it before (nearly 60 years ago!), I can live through it again.  It seems both the taxol and the steroid they give with it can cause breakouts.  I'll see what the oncologist has to say about it when I go in for my next appointment on Monday.

I could tell that the breakout extended to my scalp because what hair I have (which is still most of it) is about an eighth of an inch long.  I went in last week and got my hairdresser to shave it all off.  I just didn't want to deal with clumps falling out randomly.  In the last few days it has indeed begun to thin out patchily, so my timing for the Big Shave was pretty good.

Brandy wouldn't let me pay her, just like she wouldn't let me pay her

for the pre-chemo pixie cut she gave me.

So I have been experimenting with head coverings.  I find I don't really like the turbans or chemo caps, and the wig feels like overkill for most occasions.  I like just wearing hats, and I've been having fun expanding my hat collection.  Here are a few examples.

You've seen the cowboy hat before, but Brandy insisted on taking this pic 

after the Big Shave.

This one always brings compliments.

Rapunzel about to make her debut, a dinner out at the Corner Kitchen

with old friends we had not seen in years.

My one exception to the chemo cap and turban ban: 

this vaguely pirate-style do rag I wear for working out.

Re other side effects: The news is good.  I did NOT have another headache, thank God, so apparently that was an isolated event.  Following the advice from online patient forums, I made a list of side effects I've experienced to take to Monday's oncologist appointment, and while there are seven items on it, they are all quite moderate and seem manageable.  No nausea at all, for example.  And no intense fatigue either.  Some, yes, but in almost two weeks I've only canceled out of one thing that was on my schedule because of needing to take a nap instead.  AND I have kept up with my exercise, 35 minutes of cardio five days a week.  Don't know how long I'll be able to do it, but so far so good.

I'm even still cooking up big batches of stuff to fill the freezer with, something neither Michael nor I expected to happen once chemo started.

Beef stew, directly inspired by an image our pastor used in his homily last Sunday.

I have no new profound insights to share, just one smallish observation.  This cancer treatment business is quite intrusive.  Yes, on one level it's just one 2-2 1/2 hour session per week, but all throughout every day there are what feels like a myriad of little fiddly things I have to deal with or remember to do.  It's little stuff, easy stuff, but there's a lot of it.  Most of it is designed to head off or mitigate side effects, so it's well worth doing.  But it does feel intrusive.

But it's for a finite time: two down, ten to go. One-sixth of the way through.