Yeah, so, I am drain free, which means I will be living the dream and taking my first real shower in two weeks.
You can imagine how happy I am. Now imagine how happy mighty, mighty good man David and The Boy are. I must smell terrible. The only one not happy about it is the dog. He probably thinks I smell amazing, because dogs are gross.
During my two weeks of questionable hygiene, my sister Michelle bought me a really great dry shampoo from Target called Toni & Guy, and it really worked. So, if you are in the market for a dry shampoo, I highly recommend it.
Speaking of hair, I am starting chemotherapy on Friday, March 6. I met with my oncologist on Tuesday, and we went over the plan, and it sounds great. I kid. It sounds terrible. But, I know I can do this. Like I said, I’m cancer free. This is a preventive measure, so I’m walking into chemo ahead of the game.
During our discussion, the doctor recommended I take a chemotherapy class that the hospital offers – a kind of “what to expecting when you’re getting chemo” class.
Doctor: “Friends and family can attend the class as well.” *gestures to David*
David: “Will there be punch and pie?”
Doctor: “I don’t think there is food.”
David: “Then I’m not going.”
I also made sure to ask the really important questions.
Me: “Can I have a beer while I’m doing chemo?”
Doctor: “I’m sorry, but no drinking.”
Me: “Come on. Really? Reeeeally?”
Doctor: “No hard liquor.”
Me: “I don’t drink hard liquor now, because that always ends in tragedy. I don’t want to bring a beer with me into the chemo treatment. I just want to have a beer with dinner sometimes. Can I do that? Just a little bit.”
Doctor: “A little bit.”
Going through chemo is awful. That’s when we all need a nice glass of wine or a tasty beer the most! Cancer is the fuckin’ worst. Also, I have a podcast to record. Priorities.
The doctor did say I may not have a taste for beer (or food, in general) during chemo. During chemo, it’s not unusual for food to taste “like cardboard,” he warned. Oh good. Chemo sounds like the worst diet ever – almost as bad as Atkins.
Oh, also, I investigated cold caps (or cold cats, as David calls it), and it turns out it’s kinda expensive. I guess keeping your hair during chemo is for people with a lot of dough. I blame the Republican congress for this.
I am not loving the idea of losing my hair. While I can be as insecure as the next person about my face, my weight, etc., I have always thought, “But I have great hair, so I’ve got that going for me.”
However, I am a fun person, who can really rock a wig. So, if you have any wig shop recommendations for me, I would love to hear them, because wigs are in mu future. I will try to get a wig that looks pretty close to the look I currently have, but I will also pick up a couple of different styles, because – seriously – fuck it. Why not? If I’m going to do this, let’s really do this.
The doctor also told me that when my hair grows back, it may grow back different – meaning my straight hair might grow back curly. Some blondes get chemo and their hair grows back brown – stuff like that. My hair is going to grow back gray anyway. I already know that. But it doesn’t matter. I’m going to make my hair look like how I want it to look anyway, which is straight and red. Maybe it will grow back straight and red, you guys! That would be amazing, and I’ll be wondering why I didn’t try chemo sooner.