Hair today, gone tomorrow

I wept quietly in Dr. Fox's office when he suggested I would have to switch to an infusion chemo.  The new chemo, Abraxane, won't make me feel sick, and it's an easy, short infusion ... but patients on it lose their hair.  I wept for my hair.  I went home, and I focused on my hair.  And then I made peace with losing my hair, but in actuality I felt it wouldn't happen.  My tumor markers rising had been a fluke, and this month's tests would show a drastic decrease, especially after denying myself sugar for weeks.  Still, I told myself and others, hair's hair, it's not that big a deal.

What I failed to realize until Loreli called during 9th period cycle math is that tumor markers going up IS a big deal.  I'm not going toward remission, I'm traveling the wrong direction.  I couldn't even make it off the phone before the tears attacked my cheeks, and the kids fell silent, whispering, "Is she crying?"  I realized I couldn't stay, and 20 minutes later here I am, still crying.  No, I really don't want to lose my hair, but what I don't want to lose more is my optimism.  All this time I've been going along, physically improving as I go, sure in some recess of my mind that I could beat the odds and live for 20 years or so.  That I could see a grandkid or two, watch my kids begin their careers.  And now here's my mortality back to bite me in the ass.  I have to start all over again, face it all over again.  I'm really not that strong, I'm just generally in denial. 

I don't even know where the cancer is right now.  Is it back in my liver?  How?  Why?  Is it just in that little lump I found near my arm pit?  Is it back in my bones?  Is all the pain in my legs because of the cancer?  Fox might set up a biopsy on Tuesday for the lump, but I don't know about the rest of it.  I have no idea what my body is doing.  How could I be so out of touch?

So I guess I'll make an appointment to have my wig washed and styled, even though this isn't like a Day 19 Taxotere/Cytoxen hair loss, it's much more gradual.  And I'll finally look like the patient I've been pretending not to be for the past 5 months.