Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Day After and The Day After That

Yesterday, the first day after chemo, I woke up feeling fine, except that my mouth tasted funny.
It felt like I had burned all my tastebuds, except that I knew I hadn't.
Oh, boy, I thought, here's the first side effect kicking in.
Otherwise I felt fine yesterday. I thought, "Oh, yea. I can do this."

At 8:50 am, my dear friends, Heather and Graeme, took me to get a shot that will help rebuild my white blood cell count. The nurse warned me that I might feel achy "36 - 48 hours from now." She recommended tylenol or advil, but if I need something stronger, I should call them. No problem, I thought. I gave birth to my two children without any pain meds at all. I can handle bone pain.

This morning, I jumped out of bed, went downstairs, and made cornbread for my family. I talked to Steve and the kids while he made me an awesome fresh fruit and veggie juice, into which I stirred my various supplements. I happily and heartily gulped down a quart of fresh juice. Thirty minutes later, I had a small slice of cornbread fresh from the oven. Yum!

I ironed some clothes.
Did a load of laundry.
Dust mopped the floor.
Unloaded the dishwasher.
Did some yoga.

(Can you see where this is headed???)

Face plant. Into bed. Wiped out by 1 pm.
What was I thinking?
I was thinking: I'll do everything I can until I can't do anything else.
I was thinking: I can't make my family do everything I've always done.
I've got to let go of that stinking thinking!

And now, the achy joints are talking to me. Not loud enough for me to answer with drugs, but I'm feeling bones I have never paid much attention to before.
Hello, right collar bone.
Nice to hear from you, bones at the base of my neck.
I'm glad you are being awakened and called up to new blood cell creation duty.


On May 10, 1990, I began the journey of growing and maintaining my dreadlocs. My children have never known me without dreadlocs. When they were babies, I would lay them on my bed or on the floor and run my locks over their faces, all the while saying, "You're going thru the car wash. Isn't it fun in the car wash?" They would laugh and grab at my hair. Kristiana loves to play with my hair at night; actually, I'm not sure if she loves to do it or if she does it only because I trap her by putting my head in her lap.

In any case, my hair is a huge part of the woman I am. I love my hair. I will miss it.

Tomorrow I am getting these faithful, beautiful, colorful, storied locs shaved off. I don't want to wait until I began to find them lying around the house, in the car, or in my bed.  That would be too difficult to deal with. So tomorrow I'm gonna get my hair cut short to give us a few days to get used to me with very short hair before we have to get used to me with no hair. My beautiful, brave, heroic daughter will be with me, capturing it all in photos.


India Arie wrote it and sang it perfectly ages ago.

I am not my hair 
I am not this skin 
I am not your expectations, no
I am not my hair 
I am not this skin 
I am a soul that lives within 

Good hair means curls and waves 
Bad hair means you look like a slave 
At the turn of the century 
It's time for us to redefine who we be 
You can shave it off like a South African beauty 
Or get in on lock like Bob Marley 
You can rock it straight like Oprah Winfrey 
Its not what's on your head 
It's what's underneath and say 
Hey.... I am not my hair 
I am not this skin 
I am not your expectations, no 
I am not my hair 
I am not this skin 
I am a soul that lives within 
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better person? 
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better friend? nooo... 
Does the way I wear my hair determine my integrity? 
I am expressing my creativity... 

Breast cancer and chemotherapy 
Took away her crown and glory 
She promised God if she was to survive 
She would enjoy everyday of her life ooh... 
On national television 
Her diamond eyes are sparkling 
Bald headed like a full moon shining 
Singing out to the whole wide world like 
Hey... I am not my hair 

I am not this skin 
I am not your expectations, no 
I am not my hair 
I am not this skin 
I am a soul that lives within 



Hug somebody you love tonight. Tell them something that you love about them, 
something physical. And then tell them what you love about their spirit, their essence, 
their smile, their soul. Cuz you never know. You never know. 

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