Shedding strands...

What a ride. The last few days have been intense.

The good side: it was Todd's birthday yesterday, as evidenced by him sitting in front of the Happy Birthday bag. We went to lunch at Claire's on Cedros. Claire's, besides having an excellent name, has excellent food and a charming, cottage-like ambiance. Later, we spent a quiet evening at home, toasting Todd's turning 41 with a Newton 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon that had been comfortably resting on its side for the last five years. It was my first taste of wine since chemo. I am happy to report that it went down smoothly.

Teaching continues to go well. I am grateful to have such a positive world in which to immerse myself, if only on a limited schedule. Glimmers of panic pop up intermittently that I am not in position to grow my business. In January, I was poised to expand my clientele, to maximize my new role as Lululemon Ambassador, to host a retreat, and to film some workouts for ExerciseTV. And, now? Holding pattern. Medical bills are rolling in and although my insurance is excellent, it doesn't cover everything. Scary.

Physically, I continue to feel better each day. No nap today! I did sit by the pool for about an hour and my skin didn't react negatively to the sun, as they cautioned me could be a chemo side-effect. Slathered in sunscreen, armed with Twilight: finally some relief. I'd realized that I'd read the other books in the series twice and had neglected to read the original more than once. Quelle horror! For some reason, I can just check out with this story. Anything that works.

I desperately need to escape. Why was I feeling so distraught last night and this morning? I've started shedding. When I comb my hair, several strands slip out in the comb. I'm talking four times the usual shedding that occurs. Mind you, I don't have a lot of hair. Seeing twenty at a time exiting at an alarming rate does not make for a positive attitude.

I know it is temporary. I know that this too shall pass. But, this may be the worst part so far. I'd even take that doctor slicing up my liver a few weeks ago again over this. Hair is important. Geez, I'm the girl who in high school had a terrible perm and haircut and literally wouldn't leave the house for two weeks. My hair is a comfort zone for me.

I'm not the ideal candidate for baldness or rocking the bald head. I see others do it. I know it can be done. I respect the women who can carry it off. Is the hair the trigger that is setting me off or being bald that horrible. Or, both. I mean, I don't even wear hats, unless I'm in the sun. Adjustment time. I've got a wig and will have the hat hair but, bottom line my bald head will be a constant visible reminder of cancer.

Regardless of which part of this journey triggered my despair, I felt hopeless this morning. It all feels like too much to bear. A battle with no true end in sight. I'm struggling with the contradiction of living day by day and consoling myself with these side-effects being only temporary. I feel like I'm missing out on living each day to the fullest. I feel caged. Restrained. Frustrated.

How to handle these up and downs?

I'm going to try more acupuncture for the depression/anxiety that I cannot seem to control. I'm going to remind myself of all the love and support that I'm blessed enough to have surrounding me. Nonetheless, with each passing day, I increasingly feel isolated.

My friend suggested planning something fun in conjunction with each chemo round so that I have something to look forward to. Ever since I ran the animal rescue in LA, I've dreamed of visiting the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah. Todd and I began researching a trip in May, prior to Round 4. You get to volunteer with the animals all day and you can even take a dog for an "overnight" to stay with you while you are there. I am so excited at the prospect of going and just interacting with and helping the animals for a few days. Animals calm me.

I hope we go.