Ding Ding, Round 2

I have a chart on my kitchen wall with 1- 6 written on it. Those numbers represent my 6 rounds of chemotherapy. I have crossed off 1 and 2. I’m one-third of the way through this. Next time, half way. I think once I pass 3 it will get psychologically easier. It will be down hill from there.

During round 2 one of the other patients ruined my devoted watching of MasterChef by loudly disclosing to one of the nurses who won. The final has happened in Australia. We are still weeks away from it here. I got quite upset about it. My life has shrunk to such an extent that this could upset me!

My meds have been tweaked since my first round and I have felt better than I did the last time. It was still grim for half the time though. Gross. Icky. Blech.

The last 10 days have been good. I went to the gym. I walked. I went to court to watch the morning session of one of my cases proceeding in my absence. I hope to watch some of the last week of the trial post round 3 of my chemo (tomorrow).

I was full of good intentions when I began this journey. While I wasn’t working I thought I’d learn te reo and write the novel I’ve been meaning to write for 25 years. Instead I’ve gone for walks, written this blog, watched lots of Olympic sport, rewatched 6 seasons of Sex and the City, the 2 SATC movies and 4 seasons of Parks and Recreation. Next I intend to find and rewatch The Thick of It because I need Malcolm Tucker’s profanity laden rants in my life right now. He is one of my most favourite characters ever.

Speaking of favourite characters, I cannot write this post without reference to Samantha Jones in SATC. She is simply the most magnificent, outrageous character and I love her. SATC portrayed Samantha’s battle with breast cancer and like Samantha I’ve faced hair loss head on (intentional pun) and today I went and had the lot shaved off. I was inspired by Samantha taking the power back. Who wants to worry about clumps of hair falling out at the gym or as Samantha said “blowing all over Manhattan”? I’ve got enough to worry about.

I guesstimated pre shave that I’d lost 50% of my hair. Having seen my post shave hair on the floor it was probably more like 20% - but it is traumatic seeing hair everywhere. Like Gretel, of Hansel and Gretel fame, I could retrace my movements - but rather than using pebbles, I had a hair trail. It did come in handy locating my constantly misplaced mobile phone and car keys though.

There are a few awesome Samantha scenes in the breast cancer storyline. I loved how she constantly changed her wigs and headware (which I intend to do). I laughed out loud when Carrie and Samantha visited a bad wig shop and Carrie tried on the ugliest wigs imaginable. However my favourite scenes were (1) Samantha and Smith shaving their heads together and (2) Samantha having a hot flash whilst speaking at a breast cancer fundraiser (prompting the organiser to quip “I said inspirational not perspirational”) and her whipping off her wig to cool down, followed by women all over the room doing exactly the same thing and them all spinning their wigs in the air in solidarity. Here she is. I so relate to this https://youtu.be/ISET9kt5wfE

I feel relief taking the power back. I feel grateful for my nicely shaped skull. I am also thrilled to be able to rub steroid cream into my scalp because it has been insanely itchy and to abandoning the head cooling machine which was cold and unpleasant. I hate being cold.

I look as tough as I undoubtedly am.

I also love my wig. I have always wanted a bob but my hair is too thick to wear the sort of bob I want, naturally. My hair would cut into a triangle or tent shape. I wore my wig yesterday and the lady in the sandwich shop next to work, who hasn’t seen me since April, told me she loved my haircut and that it made me look younger. I got heaps of compliments - which made me paranoid about how bad I looked pre diagnosis. How can I objectively look younger whilst under going chemo? I am sure I don’t look better - but my wig is tres chic!

As an aside I still have no love for Mr Big from SATC. I want to punch him. If he was my friend’s boyfriend he’d need to be on constant alert. I’d be waiting to pot him. What a deeply flawed baby he is. It upsets me that he is Carrie’s great love. The only time he ever pleased me was when he “rescued” her from the Russian artist Alexander in Paris, but only because I disliked Alexander even more than I disliked Big.

My final thoughts on SATC - I think I am most like Carrie with sprinklings of Miranda and Charlotte. I love how New York is a character in the show. I’ve been to Manhattan 3 times and I could see myself living there. It is a magical place full of museums, theatre, fashion, food, a fantastic park, distinct neighbourhoods and people walking at an appropriate speed. I look forward to going there with my wee family in the future. Here is Alicia Keyes and her “New York“ to set the mood https://youtu.be/6PHOeXIPNZE I love a bit of piano in a pop song.

Over the past 3 weeks I have told my news to my dear friend Bernadette in Atlanta, USA and chatted to her on the phone. I had been scared to tell her with her so far away and knowing she’d want to see me and it being impossible for her to get back to NZ. My dear friend Brian McAdoo has joined the teaching staff of Duke University in North Carolina, USA where he got his BSc and most importantly he sent me a replacement Duke sweatshirt (I nicked his Duke sweatshirt when we were flatmates at Otago University). My dear friend Nicola has sent me another tremendous care parcel from Christchurch with the best card ever.

I know I am middle aged because I have bought a new composter and I am looking forward to making some nice new compost and letting the contents of my original compost bin rot down completely. I intend to use my compost to make a vegetable garden. I have also planted some tulips in a big container. They arrived by courier the day I had surgery. I artificially wintered them in the fridge and promptly forgot about them for 10 weeks. Hopefully they will germinate and I’ll be able to pick a bunch of them for the nurses that have cared for me at the Mercy Breast Clinic and Auckland Oncology.

So, half way through chemo tomorrow. I’ll post again in a few weeks time (unless I become inspired by something in the meantime - like my eye brows falling out or some nice spring blooms). Here are some photos - my GI Jane, Nicola’s card and my bob.

I’ll leave you with the words of Samantha Jones “Oh fuck it, she’s me and if any of you are having hot flashes like I am, you deserve a fucking medal. It’s bad enough to lose my hair, now I have my face running down my couture”. ❤️