Skip to content

A Watched Head Never Sprouts Hair

July 8, 2010

I have got to quit looking at my head because if I don’t, I’ll never get my hair back.

I need to remember that I just had chemo two weeks and two days ago. I didn’t sprout hair between my rounds of chemo and my body still thinks I’ll be getting chemo next week. My body is so stupid. Hence the Stupid Cancer. But by this time, next week, my body will be all “hey! weren’t we supposed to get chemo 2 days ago? what’s going on? let’s grow some hair! and while we’re at it – let’s stop bloating up  her right hand, particularly her right index finger!”

When I told Cathe, my physical therapist, (hi Cathe!) that I was just two weeks out of chemo, she seemed surprised – as did I. It seems like forever ago that I was hooked up to the bags of poison. And it seems like forever ago that I had a port wrapped around my clavicle. (It’s healing well, by the way. The entry point has some non-dissolved stitches that bug me but it’s definitely better than having that port sitting under my skin, snaked around veins and arteries.)

I’m starting to get better nights of sleep. I’ve gone through over 4 months of sleep-interrupted nights. A combination of The Stupid Cancer causing me stress and The Stupid Cancer meds giving me hot flashes. Which I refused to believe I was going through but then realized that just because they’re not gigantic flashes of hot, they’re still hot flashes. Quick and sweat-inducing. Here’s to them not getting any worse than they are now.

God. I just jinxed myself, didn’t I.


Speaking of sleeping better nights, now my sleep is interrupted by regular stuff. Yay for regular stuff! I popped awake the other night at 3:30 a.m. knowing that The Big Nugget had not taken the garbage out to the curb. I just knew it! We’re the first house for garbage pick up, which begins at 6:30 a.m. I tried to look for the bins at the end of our driveway from the bedroom window, which is impossible because this is the suburbs and it’s dark at the end of the driveway.

Never mind that there’s a streetlight at the other side of our front yard that shines, annoyingly into our bedroom window. It does nothing to light up the end of our driveway.

Fortunately (usually unfortunately) The Big Nugget is an incredibly light sleeper. I sneeze and he pops up, “What?!!!! What’s going on?!!!! Are you okay?!!!!” Which drives me crazy because I don’t want to engage in conversation in the middle of the night, it wakes me up all the way.

But this night, when he popped up with his “What?!!!!” I asked, “Did you take out the garbage?”

“No!!!!” And then he got up, went downstairs – and made Thing 2 take the garbage to the curb in the middle of the night.

“That’s why we had kids,” he said, when he came back to bed.

He didn’t wake up Thing 2. Thing 2 has made it a policy this summer that he’ll be staying up all night and going to bed when the sun rises. Great policy, jobless son who will get no more money from us.

I was wide awake after this and ended up going down to the couch, finally falling asleep, 3 hours later, after I heard the garbage truck pick up our trash.

Last night at 4:30 in the morning, there was a knock at our door, “Mom! [His Bestest Friend] is drunk and wants me to pick him up,” Thing 2 said, “But I don’t want to pick him up because I can’t figure out where he is so I’m going to call around and see if somebody else will pick him up.” Apparently all other recent-high-school grads and their friends are all following the same policy of staying up all night.

“If you can’t find anyone, I’ll go with you,” I said.

And then fell right back to sleep, not knowing if my son went out in the dark of night to fetch his drunk friend, who could have barfed all over my car. Not worrying that my younger son might find himself in the same predicament as his best friend, while using my car. This kid doesn’t make me worry and stay up, sleeplessly, at night.

Just his dad being unable to remember to take out the garbage, even though I’d reminded him that it was garbage night, right before I went to bed.

6 Comments leave one →
  1. July 8, 2010 10:17 am

    Your hair will return when you least expect it. You might want to go back and read
    which I had entitled “…Gone Tomorrow.” The stuff about hair coming back is in the last three or four paragraphs.

    Nevertheless, in a few words, I do have hair, which I continue to wear short, as it is just as fine as ever and hellish to style long. Furthermore, no one knows that I have had cancer unless I tell them.

    • July 8, 2010 10:26 am

      Harriet – I’m so glad you shared that link to the return of your hair with me! And then to see Diane’s comment. I’ll have to ask her if, 8 years later, she got her armpit hair back. (fingers crossed she didn’t and that I won’t!) I never lost my eyebrows or eyelashes – isn’t that odd? Thankfully odd! I’m so sick of hats. I’m going bald today. It can be everyone else’s problem – not mine!

      • July 8, 2010 11:47 am

        The only hairs I worry about now are those old-lady bristles on my chin. You’re too young for that.

      • July 8, 2010 3:26 pm

        “You’re too young for that.” You are my best friend of the day Harriet!

  2. July 8, 2010 10:24 am

    And then he got up, went downstairs – and made Thing 2 take the garbage to the curb in the middle of the night.

    “That’s why we had kids,” he said, when he came back to bed.


    This made me laugh out loud. That Big Nugget is a man after my own heart.

  3. Claudia permalink
    July 9, 2010 12:36 am

    Your house sounds like mine in the middle of the night. Phones ringing, doors knocking, food cooking, cats howling, getting up to pee and hanging out for a while. Checking the bank at 3 am cause I just remembered something, the boys waking me up to show me something on youtube, or calling anywhere from 11 pm to 5 am to chat while they’re on their way home…. I don’t think I’ve slept in 23 years….


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: