Someone Call a Plumber

This past week was hard.  Really hard. My stomach is beyond raw at this point. Early Tuesday morning I was vomiting the acid out of my stomach into a cooking pot (I know the visual sorry but I’m being real here).  Thanks for the pot and Alka-Selzter Mom! Savior at 4.30am. I feel like that episode pushed me back a few days in the recovery department but each treatment is a shit show. I really have no idea what to expect.  It’s like Hello Good Morning Oh F*ck! Over and over again. Then I turn that corner and I’m doing leg kicks. But this corner I turned physically was good but not mentally. The chemo hair thinning/ loss has reared it’s head. No pun intended. 

After my second treatment my hair started thinning at very fast pace. I was quite surprised. After my third treatment, well let’s just say I have PTSD about taking a shower, washing and brushing my hair. Even though I do everything by the book ... the hair keeps falling out.  There are tears in my eyes every time I comb my hair. I feel like when the water touches my head all I see is hair. Touching my head now feels fragile and scary.  I keep looking at the picture I posted of my first trim three weeks ago and how I explained in my blog that I wasn’t ready, only 10% lose their hair, blah blah blah. Well shit got real. I know when you see a picture of me you will say “OMG Stephanie you can barely notice.”  I totally agree but it’s my hair and it’s my feelings I’m going through right now.  It sucks. Yes my hair looks normal to some. But if you get a chance to feel it and know I can’t even put a pony tail holder in it... it’s sad and crushes me. I’m using tortoise shell small banana clips to hold it back at times but of course they say just let it be. I’m blessed with thick ass hair but it’s half gone. I’m constantly reminded of my cancer. There is hair everywhere. Couch, bed, shirt. Teddy and Max look great as blondes.  I’m constantly swiffering and vacuuming. Everyday trying to make myself feel better and hide the reminder.

My body can handle anything.... IRONMAN and chemo let’s go!  But the mental game of cancer and the hair loss is no joke. I can’t control the hair loss but I can control everything else about 90% of the time. This morning I woke up from my three hours of sleep from being high on my THC infused mints and “attempted” to make a promise to myself that I need to try and be OK with this or else I will give myself an ulcer. My stomach is already a ring of fire.  I can’t handle this for another two months. 

So cheers to ME mentally trying to deal with this.  Currently googling effortless pixie haircuts.