Mission Accomplished

Several of us were focused on accomplishing one thing done today...getting D. some hair.
She has been stressing over the prospect of her hair falling out and she really, really, REALLY did not want to be walking around completely bald.

D. was concerned because her hair was falling out at a much more rapid pace, and I was concerned because when I called the local American Cancer Society office I was told Tuesdays and Thursdays between 1:30 and 4:30 were the only time to get a free wig. I knew it would be at least two weeks before I had a Thursday off that coincided with D. feeling well enough, post chemo-infusion.

Well, we had a couple of white knights ride in on their horses in the form of my next door neighbor S. (henceforth know as the angel) and her friend P., who volunteers at the Cancer Society. P. graciously offered to take us over this morning around 11 a.m. and S. volunteered to drive. I had told the notoriously late D. and R. to be at my house by 10 a.m. to be sure we were on time.

I was sleeping on the couch due to bedfellow snoring issues, when I heard a knock on the door at 8 a.m. R. and D. had been up since around 4 so they just got ready and headed over. We killed a little time looking at wigs online and after several cups of coffee we headed out to Sugarloaf Parkway in the S.mobile.

The Cancer Society has beautiful offices in a beautiful building with beautiful people who really want to help. We were in a tiny room in the back, piled floor to ceiling with boxes of wigs, turbans and head wraps. There were a half dozen wigs on display and I could tell by D.'s face she wasn't too excited about any of those options, but then again, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. D. had had long hair for so long it just wasn't in her genetic makeup to go for a funky little short wig and strangely enough, even wigs that seemed to be of medium length, looked too short when she tried them on.

I was really starting to worry we weren't going to find something that would appeal to her, when P. found one long blond number in a box and it was as if there was an audible "AHHHHHH!" in the room. As soon as she put in on D.s face broke into a big smile. I may have been curious to see what she would look like with shoulder length hair in her natural dark brown, but D. needed to have something long and blond, and the bottom line is if it makes her feel better about this process I'm all for it. She filled a small trashcan with her hair this morning after her shower, so knowing she has something that makes her feel a little more "normal" is a small relief.

D. plans on having R.'s mom shave her head completely and she wants to experiment with the fit and look of the wig, then hopefully in a couple of weeks when she's over the side effects of Monday's chemo treatment, we'll head to the mall and get her a backup wig. In the end, she'll lose one head of hair, but gain two. Small victories.

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Everything I thought I knew that I didn't know

D. was here this weekend with R. It was only for Friday night, but I think they felt like they had a mini-vacation. No leaky roof like at home and no half-crazy 95 year-old sort of stepfather screaming at them. My daughter H. was away at a friends so D. and R. got her room with its super comfy bed all to themselves. They said it was the best night's sleep they'd had in a long time.

I learned a lot in 24 hours about what D. has to do to monitor her disease, and as time passes it will probably get more labor intensive in that regard. I also learned I had some things wrong.

It actually wasn't an infection from the biopsy of her adrenal glands that put her in the ICU about a week ago. She did have an infection at the site of her lung biopsy but she also had pneumonia and that was what was causing her difficulty and pain in breathing. The docs told her pneumonia is infamous for "hiding" behind tumors in the lung.

I also learned D. isn't ready emotionally to part with her super long hair. I can relate. I used my long hair as a security blanket of sorts for many years, but got over it in my late 20s. D's hair has already started to fall out a bit and since we weren't able to get an appointment to get a wig fitted this Friday I offered again to take her to get a haircut. I could tell this was painful for her to discuss. No way around it...it sucks that her hair is going to fall out; it's a matter of whether she wants long, long strands of hair to fall out or shoulder length pieces. But bottom line, it's her decision to make.

We're trying again to get her fitted for a wig this Friday or Saturday. Once we have the wig, D. just wants to have her head shaved. Turns out she doesn't want to deal with it falling out at all.

I learned that when D. doesn't feel like eating, the only thing she really wants is white cheddar Cheezits, and that she's mainly drinking Chocolate Boost to keep her caloric intake up. I've also learned WalMart is a good place to get both, if you don't mind your sick sister worrying about how much it's costing you.

D. has to keep a written record of how much medication she takes and when and it looks like a lot and often. She also has a cuff and blood pressure monitor which she uses several times a day. She lost the back somewhere along the way so the batteries have a tendency to fall out but she tells me her doctor said it's an older but very accurate model.

I've learned D. likes hi-test coffee, not decaf like me. She drank two cups Saturday morning and later when she took her blood pressure it was very high and R. felt like he needed to get her home immediately. They were packed and out the door in about 20 minutes. I don't know if the coffee contributed to the high blood pressure or if it was that she got upset talking about her "boys"; her two grown sons and R.'s son she considers one of her own.

My brother S. was headed to her house today to get her set up with a computer, internet access and an email account since she's a technology neophyte. He couldn't get an old computer he had to work correctly so he was going to buy her an inexpensive laptop. Better for her I think because she can use it from bed, but of course it was one more thing for her to worry about how much someone was spending.

The main thing I've learned is D. is going to worry, she's going to feel guilty and she's going to feel sad and the best thing any of us can to is to be there to support her. That last part, I already knew.

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