I think I’ll call this update “Hair today, gone tomorrow”. On the weekend I attended a great community function spearheaded by the ridiculously funny Gloria Chandler. A friend came over to say hi and mentioned that she had seen Sonny and was impressed with how well he looked and that he hadn’t lost his hair. She got me thinking. This would seem to be the week for hair, as Mik is now home and trying to figure out what will be a good look for her wig. All three of my girls have long, thick hair and Mikaela is the one who wears it down most often. Her hair has to go and she has decided to get it all chopped and give it to the Cancer Society. So she may look different. But she’s still got those eyes! Sonny won’t lose his hair from the methyltrexat, which is intended to be curative. He’s never without his ball-cap, so baldness wasn’t something he gave much thought to. On the other hand, Mik’s treatment, which is primarily precautionary and preventative, will cause her to lose her gorgeous hair right away. Our good neighbour, Carole Ann, who is an RN and has experience with the cancer world, advised us to get Mik to get her hair cut before the first treatment, pick out a nice wig, and get used to the idea. It won’t matter to me what her head looks like, she’ll always be my beautiful middle child. But for her own confidence, we intend to get out ahead of it. Does it really matter in the overall scheme of things? Not really, but for many people loss of hair has come to represent a badge of courage. Cancer changes so much, and years of fund-raising campaigns for research and care organizations have trained us to look for the markers of change in a certain way. How do you measure and portray things like- he can’t read? Sonny’s changes are internal, not easily noticed and on the surface, not that earth shaking. If you’ve lived with or loved someone who has a brain injury or early Alzheimer’s, you will recognize the signs. I have certainly gained a lot of appreciation for how difficult a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s is for everyone involved. Luckily, Sonny has very little pain. This was his fourth treatment and it was hard on him, but nothing like what some people go though. Not yet anyway. Sonny (mostly) takes it in stride and promises us all that he will carry on, just as long as he can keep on smiling. And we are assuming that the path he walks will lead him back to where he was before all hell broke loose. A naive belief maybe, but one that gets us through each day. If not, it will be up to us to figure out the occupational and life style changes we need as a couple to provide him with the best quality of life and to help me-and his Mom-feel secure that he is safe. Either way, I know that we can’t continue to carry the seasonal business, lobster fishing and the painting business anymore. We’ve been doing this a long time, our springs are too stress filled, and it could be we are just growing too damn old. The other day he told the nurse he was going to beat this tumor because he’s going lobster fishing in the spring. So I guess we know where his priorities lie! Mikaela’s occupational changes, if she decides to make them, will be more about putting herself into an occupation that will give her the best chance to take care of the three legs of the stool: rest, exercise and nutrition. So she’ll never ever have to do this again! And so she can give her poor old Mama grandkids! Ok, so I have an ulterior motive. I confess. Today Mik went to visit ‘The Wig Lady’, Angela Lamoureux, and, thanks to Angela, picked out some great ones. My personal favorite is the red ombre “this is me jetting off to Paris” look. Just as they say about life- the only thing certain is change. Cancer guarantees you will experience lots of that, whether you’re ‘ready’ or not. How can you ever be ready? One thing about cancer, it doesn’t give you much warning or time to think about it. Since Labour Day, most times Sonny can’t filter out noises that he wouldn’t normally notice. He needs one conversation at a time if he is to have any chance of being included. So we’ve traded the Bruce Willis movies for The Life of Pi and Castaway, no longer interrupt or talk over each other, and more often than not, turn the radio, TV and music off. A quieter household with less background noise. Our mantle is covered with lovely cards, but I know that tucked in behind them is a sign with one simple word: Peace. Peace to you all, too.
Posted on: Fri, 07 Nov 2014 01:41:02 +0000
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