The Chemo Diaries. Cry it out.

It has been threatening to rain all day.  Overcast and slightly morose, just like me.  And the kids were out of school.  Willa and I painted for a bit and then they hit the park while I napped.  And ate.  And then napped again.  And then ate.  And then went for a walk, ate, napped, ate, and you get the picture. I was able to make dinner!  It's the little things.

I am also very emotional today.  And when I say that I just mean that I could really cry about anything.  For no reason at all and every reason of course.

Willa wants to know which arm is the arm she can hug.  She knows there is one that is off-limits to squeezes, but she can't rememember how to distinguish.  So her method is to look down my shirt for the booby that is still there, the booby with no cancer, and then she will squeeze that arm.  She does, in fact, know what booby and which arm, but she likes to pull my shirt down anyway and delight in the fact that she is seeing my boob.  I wish I were four.

Clio is my amazing little big girl, skateboarding, and handstanding, and teaching her sister how to ride her bike without training wheels.  And she is so tough, and so brave.  Still, I wish I could spare them both all of this crap.  I wish they didn't have to see me lose my hair or be too tired to take them to the park or to school.  And yet I have no desire to shield them either.  I want them to know that shitty things can happen but we can all get through it.  And this isn't even the shittiest thing that could happen, really, so how lucky are we?  We are so lucky.  So very, very lucky.

I took a shower tonight and noticed for the first time that my hair was falling out, just the little pieces from my buzz cut, lining my palms.  As if I hadn't known it was coming, as though I hadn't prepared myself for it for weeks, I froze.  Like a deer in headlights, completely unsure of what to do next.  What...how...exactly is this going to go down?  Am I...should I...put a cap on?  Do I need to go cut my hair again?  But then again, won't this will pass just like everything else?

As soon as I finished crying about that, I got an incredible email from my incredible brother Matt and his incredible wife Lisa.  (See below).  And then I cried for twenty minutes more.  A cleanse.  Just like the rain.  But I am running out of kleenex.