Hair Drama

First one HUGE caveat, I am completely aware that I am unbelievably lucky that I actually have a semi-full head of hair.  The FIRST thing I asked my neurosurgeon when he proposed surgery was if he was going to need to shave my head.  By great fortune, the answer was no.  By even greater fortune I had a radiation method that was alternative to chemotherapy, which only left me with (along with the small shaved portion around my surgical incision) several silver dollar-sized bald spots spread around my head, mostly out-of-sight. 

My uber-competent hairstylist in New York did an amazing job getting my traumatized hair styled for the wedding after my surgery, and I could not have been more pleased with how my hair looked on my wedding day!

However, despite my great fortune in keeping most of my hair, I must admit that lately every single day has been a BAD HAIR DAY.  The last little while has included several bad hair months.  The hair around my incision is now about 4 or 5 inches long.  The hair from my bald spots is now 3 or 4 inches long.  These sticky-outy patches of shorter hairs have effectively made a series of new callicks/cowlicks along the back of my head. 

It also means that the shorter hairs from the incision near the nape of my neck are impossible to get into a ponytail or bun, they just always hang down no matter how much hairspray I use.

And then there's the little bald spot right at the crown of my head that gives me that Alfalfa look. 

It just hangs out up there like a little wing.

And I have about 2% of bangs from the former bald spot right at the front of my hair.

Yes, things in my hair situation are really obnoxious right now.  No style can tame all of the goofy spots, there is always something sticking out or hanging down somewhere.

So I spoke with a local hairstylist and she was impressed with how quickly the hair has grown-- it seriously is growing fast, especially when they thought the hair may take 4 months to start re-growing, and may never grow back at all.  I credit this shampoo that Sopi hooked me up with, as well as my faithful ingestion of Hair, Skin & Nails pills.

She and I believe that if I have my hair shorter for the next few haircut cycles, that most of the awkward spots will have a chance to catch up to the rest of my hair-- hooray!  So I went for it, the big chop!  Credit to Kate Mara for popularizing the Lob (long bob), which is exactly what I went for.

Seeing all this on the ground was scary...

But I LOVE the new 'do! 

As I walked home and the breeze flowed through it, I thought, "This is so great!  How can anyone have long hair?!"  I think that's a good sign :)  Onward and upward!

Poem

I have written poems for as long as I can remember.  But I usually keep them to myself because I consider them my private expression, often about very personal feelings or subject matter.  So be surprised when I announce that, below, I am pasting a poem I recently wrote.  After all, mom's deserve special consideration; good moms, doubly so!  Perhaps by the time next Mother's Day rolls around, I will have managed to make it all rhyme, but I kinda like how it is-- more like a spoken-word piece. 

Quiet Thank Yous

A free-form poem about my mom

Biology joined us three decades ago

And biology binds us still

But we share much more than genetic codes:

Time, emotion, happiness, and even trauma

These threads span the continent

Connecting our distant hearts

And our prayers span the cosmos

Connecting our different spirits

Different, I say, because she is sweet

While I boast an honest, Realist streak.

She knows what is right and what is good,

While I think I always know what is best

I find myself year after year,

Eating my proverbial hat

It’s hard to say, “You’re right”

It’s harder to say, “I’m sorry”

When I find I don’t know it all

When I realize your unseen service

I can’t scream my gratitude, for shyness

So all you may get is a quiet thank you

A thank you so faint, it is scarcely there,

A whisper that’s unheard off-stage

But the feelings behind the murmur

Can fill an orchestra hall with your praise

A little girl with pigtails, crying for Mom,

Can only manage a murmur

Of thank you through her tears-

She doesn’t know what else to say

A young lady is unspeakably grateful

When you sacrifice your knitting needle

To relieve her itchy, cast-covered arm

All she can think to say is a quiet thank you

A new graduate, alone and so far from home

Hates to admit that she misses her mom

So when the family all flies in to see her

No words can express, so none are said

The young woman is now lost inside her own head

She cannot see past all the staples and dread,

Only one stays beside her, both day and night

This faithful one is, of course, that dear mom

The mom who has only received quiet thank yous,

The mom who now helps the young woman walk,

The mom who must help her adult-child shower,

The mom who lends a shoulder as her daughter cries.

The walls are covered with charts for the young woman’s progress

The refrigerator is full of her most favorite things

Mom is now her physical therapist, her nurse, and her friend

As the young woman leans on mom and dares to still live

And now, yet again, there seems nothing to give

Nothing the daughter can do

Nothing to account for the weeks of loving

Nothing but a quiet thank you

Healing months are welcomed home

And a bride stands next to her tearful mom

They look in the mirror, and mom zips the bride,

Who stares in the mirror, love brimming inside

The bride hesitates- can she do it alone?

Time to now leave the sanctuary of mom.

And what can she do, to express years of joy?

To give thanks for boundless love and care?

One word on the subject would surely bring tears

And the photographer is waiting outside.

Nothing can encompass the love she has felt,

The protection mom has been her whole life.

And so, yet again, we see the dear daughter,

The object of decades of grace,

With nothing but gratitude in her growing heart,

Offering a quiet thank you and embrace.

 

There really are no words except that I love you, Momma Pea! xoxo

May The 4th Be With You

Because everyone needs a little Star Wars fun once in a while...

AMAZING talent displayed in the felted movie scenes described as EPIC YARNS on Nerdist.com

And there are many adorable and creative treat recipes (even Paleo Storm Trooper Cookies!) from Just Jenn Recipes

Williams Sonoma has been a great source of Star Wars items for the past several years, including selling the Star Wars cookie cutters and pancakes molds which we own! 

Talking to Cancer Patients,

...and not making a fool out of yourself.

~~~

With Handsome Hubs, Jack, in the financial planning world, I attended a life insurance seminar with him to support one of his colleagues who helped with the presentation.  Of course, a presentation like this naturally invites self-reflection and postulating on one’s future.  As the presentation went on, I suddenly felt rather alienated.

So here I am educating myself about life insurance—I am in my late 20’s, a healthy weight, a healthy lifestyle, employed… and utterly un-insurable.   All thanks to that dastardly, little phrase pre-existing condition.  Whaaaa :’(  

(chart from Global Tort article reading "Over 10 Million Americans are uninsurable cancer survivors... do you take your health insurance coverage for granted?")

Is that depressing, or what?  I will always be behind the 8-ball. 

So the only good news is that I am finally confident that my life will not end like a Poirot episode… nobody will possibly be able to murder me for the life insurance money, because I can’t get a policy!  What a relief, right? Haha

This is just a small example of how that whole cancer thing is still always on my mind (no pun intended) and still seems to feel so ridiculously unfair.

Somehow I got subscribed to Cosmopolitan magazine (this has a point, I swear…), I don’t pay for it and I never have –as far as I am aware—but it just keeps showing up in our mailbox, so sometimes I read it on the elliptical while listening to Stuff Mom Never Told You, to get my extra boost of female empowerment for the day.  It is a trashy magazine with a lot of nonsense articles and laughable fashion advice.  Generally all things read therein are of dubious credibility, scarcely hiding a nefarious agenda, or they're just plain stupid.

So you can imagine my surprise when a very refreshing and captivating article caught my eye enough to pause my podcast, and then actually read through the entire article, and then be inspired to write this very blog post.  Yes, miracles do happen, as evidenced by something remotely worthwhile being found within the pages of Cosmo.  (To give credit where it is due, they seem to have one EXCELLENT article about every quarter.)

The article is called I Have Cancer And It Sucks and it is written by chemo-weakened, smooth-headed Deanna Pai who is, of all occupations, a Beauty Editor for Cosmopolitan.  I have come to expect reading these syrupy, uplifting “I beat cancer and I am so much stronger now that I would not change anything about my life…” articles by cancer survivors.  Whomever keeps writing all these articles is lying.  I, for one, would not wish my brain tumor removal surgery on my worst enemy.  Living a life of uncertainty and unfairness is a life that anyone in their right mind would go back and change if they could!  I certainly agree with this little article's title—everything about cancer SUCKS and there’s no doubt about it!

I admit that although I lost plenty of hair and had plenty of nasty radiation side effects, getting chemotherapy is a whole different (horrible) ballgame.    Still, I could totally relate to this part of her piece:

“[After describing her pretty healthy lifestyle…]  How am I the cancer patient?  How?  I need an explanation, but there is none.   Researchers at Johns Hopkins just discovered that many cancers are, like mine, the work of plain bad luck.

“I feel better in the waiting room…surrounded by all the other unlucky people.  We’re in this together, even if most are old and decrepit and have had the chance to live their lives.  Then I step outside and see the people whose veins are whole, who have hair on their heads, who didn’t spend the morning being stabbed repeatedly with giant needles.  I hate and envy them all.  But nothing pisses me off quite like a smoker.  Really?  You want to look like me?”

Oh, the lengthy complaints I left at Penn Medicine regarding all of the people smoking outside the hospital…  Smokers really drive me crazy, now more than ever.  It is a simply asinine habit.

The article-writer then went on to discuss some do’s and don’ts for when talking with someone going through cancer.  This is a very important thing to think about before you find yourself in this exact conversation and end up hurting someone's fragile feelings, or not being a resource for someone when you could have been.

Based on my own experiences, I wrote up some my own list of things to keep in mind when you speak to a loved one or friend after he or she has had seriously bad medical news, a major operation, radiation, chemo, et cetera:

-We are EXHAUSTED.  Emotionally, physically, financially—exhausted in every way.  Our bodies are doing the best they can do…which is not that great. 

-We may want to be ALONE.  Considering how tired we are, and how prone we are to combust into tears, being around people –even the ones we love—may be overwhelming.  And we may not have the energy to vocalize this when you are sitting on our couch, and in our face.  Please respect our space and (1) ask before visiting, (2) keeps visits brief, and (3) don’t get upset that we don’t just “cheer up” because you are there with your happy face on.

-Sometimes we want to TALK about what’s going on, and sometimes we really don’t.  My advice is to ask about our schedule, to assess if we need rides or other help.  But don’t ask about the nitty-gritty directly.  Sometimes I knew that if I started talking about certain things, I would have an emotional melt-down, so I just didn't want to go there.  But if I do want to talk with you about what I am going through, please just let me talk as long as I need.  You may be the only person I feel I can be honest with, so please don’t rob me of that relief from sharing my pain.

-Do not, I repeat, DO NOT proceed to tell us, “Oh, my grandpa’s sister/my cousin/my neighbor/my sister-in-law/whomever had cancer, so I know how rough it can be.”  Especially don’t tell these stories if the subject ultimately died.  This should be obvious, but you would not believe how many times I heard, “Oh, my grandpa died of brain cancer…”  GEE, THANKS!  Happy to hear that rousing anti-success story!   Also, even if your relative somehow had the same exact cancer as me, everyone’s experience is so vastly different, that there is really not much comfort in hearing you compare us, especially since you have no idea what you’re talking about.

-Adding to the one above^, YOU DON’T KNOW HOW ROUGH IT CAN BE.   Comments like “I understand,” “I’ve been through something similar…” (having your tonsils removed is NOT similar!!) or “I know how you feel” = slaps in the face that minimize our pain.

-People were really sweet about bringing food, but my diet was SO restricted after surgery and then my appetite was SO messed up during radiation, that I didn’t eat much of anything that people brought me.  So if a loved one near you is fighting cancer, definitely do call and ask if you can bring them food, but be sure to ask specific questions like, (1) Are there foods you are focusing on or staying away from right now?  (2) What things sound good to you right now? (for me, it was exclusively potatoes and ice cream sandwiches!)  (3) What time of day are you usually hungry and able to eat?  (4) What can I bring you in particular from your favorite café?  We may be too tired or apathetic to tell you these things spontaneously, so please ask.  Having something we are actually looking forward to eating can really turn our day around.

-This final point was driven home by the Cosmo article, sometimes the best response when we are feeling down, is a simple “That really sucks.”  Because, yes, it does suck and not everyone is willing to acknowledge that.  Doctors can’t possibly have the emotional capacity to commiserate with every patient, plus they are focused on long-term fixing, not on how bad of a day you’re having.   And many well-meaning people have nothing to offer but un-ending, forced positivity.  But no matter how you spin it, we are in a really crappy situation, and we know it.  “You’ll be okay; you’re strong,” is not necessarily true, and we don’t want to hear it.   “That sucks, I love you, can I bring you a treat or a movie to help today be a tiny bit better?”  Now that’s a winning response.  

Sometimes You're a Caterpillar

I just LOVE this little video and have to share it.  What a great way to think about other people, especially right now when everyone seems to be hating on each other.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRiWgx4sHGg

Super cool animation by Kat Blaque and narration by Chescaleigh

Ladies, Just Stop

Blame it on the brain surgery, but I'm a little more honest these days; no time to waste on nonsense.  I love you, ladies, but when you act crazy, I must speak up. 

What follows are things women need to please stop doing immediately.  In other words, things I hate:


1)  This disgusting new literary phenomenon known as the "Birth Story."  BARF.  If I am super creepy and gross and I seriously want details about your little alien emerging from your enlarged cervix, then I will ask.  The fact that you assume everyone wants to know, to the point that you type it and post it online for all the world to read, is THE most awkward thing ever.  The Spotlight Effect at its finest.  Or maybe just plain old narcissism.  Whatever it is, its gross.

If I wrote a birth story, the most I would be willing to divulge to the public would be something like this: 

I went to a hospital pregnant, I came home not pregnant and with a baby.

If I really wanted to be TMI-accurate, my most probable future birth scenario may possibly be summed up with:  

I went to a hospital pregnant, the doctors had to cut me open, husband puked, doctors pulled out a screaming purple prune child, the prune child has not stopped screaming since, I am in pain, but not pregnant anymore... and then there were three.  The End.

How much more is there really to tell?  Apparently A LOT because when you say "Birth Story" what you really mean is "Birth Novel" with way too many words for any person with a life to ever read, and photos of your screaming purple thing and you, looking like hell.  Bravo.


2)  Nail Art.

Anyone with a serious job cannot possibly engage in this grossly time-consuming practice.  I would be laughed out of the courthouse if I had miniature Eiffel Towers, chevron stripes, or Minions all over my fingernails.  99.9% of nail art is ridiculously unprofessional and even childish.  Anyone over the age of 10 really should not want to have ten individual cartoon baby tigers staring at them...let alone actually spend 2 hours getting them. 

Just think of all of the many hours/days/months/years women around the world have spent with toothpicks and nail polish remover, making the perfect palm tree on their index finger.  All for it to chip in about 5 seconds.  And then there's the time spent photographing your childish nails, blogging about them, pinning them, tweeting them, la dee dah dee dah...  In all of that time collectively wasted on nail art, we probably could have done something REALLY productive like, I don't know, solved urban hunger, cured cancer, planted a million trees, or really anything.  Because EVERYTHING is more productive than this so-called "art."



3) Taking bathroom mirror selfies.  The only thing I want to see less than your puckered lips is your dirty toilet.  Instead, try this amazing trick: ask your partner/friend/roommate/neighbor/co-worker/random person on the street to take a photo of you instead.  I know; crazy, right?

The thing is, I am 100% confident that the only reason you fall into the desperate trap of bathroom-mirror-selfie-taking is because just one or two photos taken by someone else is not good enough for you.  You have to take dozens of photos from different angles, with more diligent sucking-it-in action, with more favorable shadows across your gut, with the least double chin possible, etc. etc. etc....

No.  Nobody is fooled.  Just get someone to take the damn photo and be happy with how you look.  We are not all runway-ready every single moment of our lives-- far from it-- and you KNOW it.  Your social media does not have to reflect the most contrived, people-pleasing you possible; it should just be YOU.  You are good enough!


4)  Caring about any Kardashian.  I don't even want to grace them with my words.  Honestly.  Suffice it to say that your mind has so many more valuable and enriching things to occupy it.  Stop wasting your time and money on these pathetic people who contribute nothing positive to society.


If I ruffled your feathers, #sorrynotsorry

Welcome to Connecticut, Senator Reid!

Last night I was getting ready for bed when my husband announced that "Mormons across the country are jumping for joy right now..."  Why, you may ask?  Simply because long-time Democratic Senator Harry Reid (also an active member of the Mormon church) is not seeking re-election.  Hubs is probably right that many conservative Mormons are breathing a collective sigh of relief because someone they see as an embarrassing associate will presumably no longer be on the public stage.

Well, I think that those who are jumping and sighing have missed out on a great national leader in their corner.  It is never a bad thing to erase the erroneous white wash that narrowly paints a group of people as being all the same, rather than being a collection of unique individuals.  It is never a bad thing to challenge society's prejudicial assumptions about a minority group.  Categorizing any group as being "all the same" invariably leads to misunderstanding and often leads to hate.  I love Harry Reid simply for the fact that he proves to the world that not all Mormons are the same.  We don't all feel the same way about every issue, we don't view the world in the same way, and we clearly don't even vote for all the same things.

Senator Reid's liberalism might not be average among members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but he is certainly not an anomaly.  As I have met members of the LDS church across the eastern seaboard and further Northeast, it has become incredibly uneventful to meet a Mormon who identifies as a Democrat or as politically liberal.  Now don't fall off your chair here, but consider this-- I know a generous Mormon man who believes that all media censorship across all genres should be banned.  Are you shocked yet?  I know an accomplished Mormon woman who is a vociferous proponent of a woman's right to an abortion.  I know a humorous Mormon man who "just couldn't live with himself" if he ever voted for a Republican candidate for anything.  And, yes, they are all my friends.  And of course, there's me :-)  I am in good company here in New England!   And if Harry Reid wants to retire and move out here, he would be among good company, too.

New Look, New Philosophy

As J.Diva has become more about my life during and after cancer treatment, and the effect all that has had on my well-being and lifestyle and views, I have been contemplating a way to encapsulate my new-found feelings on life.  The most obvious shorthand answer is this simply: LIVE.  

All that I have suffered has been so I can just continue to live.  And now that I am still alive, there remains the obstacle of truly living.  People have been so kind and gracious to me as I have struggled for meaning in my difficulties, and tried to tackle the things I cannot change.

During my tired and quiet days, I spent much time contemplating my past and future.  Much has changed, but I think I have always been me, and fearing death has only made me want to live a life more true to that original me.

So this is the philosophy I have chosen to highlight going into my future-- to live life in a way that has meaning, exemplifies grace, and honors courage:


LIVE BRAVELY

LIVE GRACIOUSLY

LIVE MEANINGFULLY