Cute Hats

"It might not all fall out.  It might just get real thin." - Damn Good Second Opinion Doctor.

At the time, I found this comforting.  Thin isn't too bad.  My mother has thin hair, and to me she always just looked like a beautiful woman with slightly thin hair.  Turns out, there's a difference between 'slightly thin' and 'real thin.'

This is what the back of my head looks like right now.

 Yeah, you think that's creepy?  Check it out from the top. 

(Before we go further, I want you to promise to back off me about the picture quality alright?  You try taking a selfie of the back of your head with a clam shell cell phone.)

OK, Despite what it sounds like, this is not a vanity post. 

I honestly don't mind the way it looks.  Trust me, I've never been one of those girls who gets turned off by a little shiny head spot.  Plus, I know it's temporary.  My real problem is it's cold.  I live in the North Eastern US and it's coming on December.

I'm freezing my head off up here, you guys!

Lest you think I'm being too negative about this hair situation, considering tomorrow is Thanksgiving, a day to take time to be grateful for what we have, I hereby commit to making the remainder of this post so happy-dappy positive you'll be ready to spit up in your cranberry sauce.

There are actually several benefits to my new hairstyle (or lack thereof.)

1) I'm saving a pile of money on shampoo, conditioner, gel, anti-frizz serum and razors.  (Yeah, razors... Perhaps we'll save that for another post.)

2) My hair, when I have it, is long, curly, tangles if you move your head and frizzes when you look at it funny.  It took five different products and fifteen to twenty minutes to tame each morning.  Now that I don't have any, I actually have time for breakfast.

3) Housekeeping is easier as well.  There's no hair accumulating on the bathroom floors.

4) Best of all, this lack of hair combined with my current, er, shall we say, climate-control issue, is the perfect opportunity to pursue my long time obsession with hats!  I love hats!  I've often lobbied unsuccessful for the return of the fabulous feather and flower filled hats of the 1900's and my favorite part of any horse racing event are the hat pictures.  I've therefore taken this opportunity to wear some fun hats.

I had several hats lying around the house, so I started just wearing them.  My husband did the sweetest thing ever and actually made me a winter hat by hand!

The plain hats were fun, but I wanted a little more color.  So I went to Michael's Arts & Crafts store and they had a bunch of clip on feathers in a variety of fun colors.  I bought a few and started to mix and match.  I met up with my sisters one afternoon and they each made me one.

Here's a couple photos of the event. I'm wearing the hat my husband made me with the feather clips my sisters made. 

I think my expressions say it all.  I really do love hats. 

I have a lot to be grateful for this Thanksgiving.  Hats, family who make them for me, supportive friends, prayers from all over the world, a decent health care plan, smart people who grow up to be oncologists, hematologists and cancer researchers.  If I list everything out it will be next Thanksgiving before I finish, so I'll sum it up in one word: Life.

I am grateful for life.  

Remission!

It is official!  I am currently in "complete remission" from my Hodgkin's Lymphoma!!!

I know, you are asking yourself, "What?!  Remission on the fourth post?  What kind of cancer blog is this?  I feel totally gypped.  I thought this girl was hard core.  She's done already?"

Allow me to explain...

This past Monday I had my PET/CT Scan.  The way the regimen works for people with the Hodge (that's what the cool cats over on the Hodgkin's Lymphoma online message board call it) is that after two rounds of treatment (four chemotherapy sessions, each two weeks apart) they do a PET/CT scan and compare it to the one they did during the staging workup.

After I was diagnosed, which happened as a result of my lymph node biopsy, they did a skull to mid-thigh PET/CT scan to see how far the cancer had progressed.

What they do, is an hour before the scan they inject you with a radioactive sugar tracer, then put you into the machine.  Cancer love sugar, so everyplace there is cancer lights up on the resulting images.

 My first scan lit up all over the place.  

The first scan showed the cancer had progressed pretty darn far.  It was in the biopsied lymph node in my neck (Stage 1) and on one side of my chest (Stage 2) and on the other side of my chest (Stage 3) and worst of all, it had crossed over my diaphragm into my spleen.  Boom.  Stage 4.  Stage freakin' four.  "Multiple avid spleenic lesions" the report read. Translation: my spleen was riddled with it.  Just chock flipping full of cancer.

My second scan was beautifully dark.  Nothing lit up at all!  

Nothing in my neck, nothing in my chest and most of all nothing in my spleen.  There are still a couple nodules in my chest, but they aren't lighting up as cancerous any longer.

I had a feeling the treatments must have been working because after the first one my symptoms disappeared almost immediately.  The tightness in my throat, the cough after I ate, drank or laughed, the inability to make it up a flight of stairs without pausing for breath, all gone.

After the second treatment, my spleen hurt like crazy.  I was so scared it was going to rupture.  I think it was the drugs vs. the cancer battling it out in there.  I was picturing little cellular sized cannons and spears being hurled back and forth.

All these were positive signs, and I did truly feel like it was working.  But, my God, reading that second scan report, what an opportunity, what a blessing.

It is rare indeed in this world that even the most steadfast and unwavering faith is rewarded by proof. 

For me to receive such a gift of Grace, despite my imperfect constancy is beyond humbling.  He must have heard more prayers than my own to render me deserving of so speedy a reward.

I shall never find words, or expressions or actions to convey the depth of gratitude I feel toward everyone who supported me, encouraged me and prayed for me during this time leading up to the scan.  The words of encouragement I received both leading up to it, and after I shared the results were overwhelming.  It took me some time to even read them all, I just felt so surrounded by support, and caring and love.  I just don't know how to express the indescribable feeling of comfort that gave me.

If I didn't write everyone back individually, if I didn't mention one event specifically, know that I noticed, and I cared.  I saw that smile from the other end of the hallway, freely and involuntarily given, I saw the trace of fear that floated over a pair of dark eyes I didn't expect to be so effected that was quickly forced away behind a typical sentence of encouragement, I heard every thought that flowed through the five seconds of phone silence when I told you the bad news, and I read every word, every syllable, every letter of encouragement and joy when I told you the good.  I read it more than once.

Every word mattered.  Every emoticon mattered.  Every hug, both real and virtual.  Every prayer.

The journey continues.  Though I am in remission, I still have to complete the six cycle regimen of chemo, with all its delightful side effects, including nausea, fatigue, missing Halloween, constipation, being chronically immuno-compromised, missing Halloween, mouth sores, insomnia, missing Halloween, hair loss, oh, yeah, and did I mention Freaking Missing Halloween!!?!?

You know what though?  It's working.  It's working and so far despite it's best efforts, all cancer has managed to do to me is show me that loads more people love me than I ever realized.

Love is greater than cancer.   

I don't have much hair left at the moment (future blog post coming soon devoted to this enchanting topic) so I've been wearing a lot of hats.  Usually I go all out for Halloween costuming, but I had Chemo two days ago and my immune system is down so I have to stay in, so I thought I'd just put this Halloween headband on instead.  I kinda think I look like figure skater Johnny Weir in this so, I'm calling it my costume.  2015 - the year I officially dressed up as Johnny Weir for Halloween.  Full disclosure, I think I have it on backwards.  I feel Johnny would approve of this bold fashion choice.

Happy Halloween, my friends, my family.  I love you all.


PS: If you're on Twitter, I totally recommend following @JohnnyGWeir.  It'll make your life happier, I promise.  If you want to make your life lifeier, or just want to know when I've updated this blog, you can also follow me @DeannaPostles.