Two steps forward - Eight backward

This was a banner week for me. I went hatless and wore make-up for the first time in more months than I could remember. My neuropathy symptoms seemed to diminish. I felt good. I walked to lunch. Sleeping seemed better. Then I finished my steroids.

Last Saturday I was restless and anxious to jump start my life. This Saturday I was annoyed that I'd made an appointment at the hair dressers at the crack of 10 a.m. But I made it. Not to get my hair done, but to have my face waxed. Unfortunately, the growth of hair on my head signaled the return of my beard and mustache. So I sat patiently having the facial hair ripped from my face trying to figure a way it could be transplanted to my scalp. (Incidentally, my hairdresser is from Saudi so this is what I think of when they talk about Middle Eastern terrorism.)

My friend and I had a discussion recently. She mentioned that she wouldn't go out without doing her hair and makeup. What if Mr. Right was at the grocery store and overlooked her because she'd forgotten her mascara? I, on the other hand, walked into the grocery store after my appointment with red blotchy skin, a black eye, and my chemo-chic hairdo. And here's the funny thing. I got hit on. OK, it was the meat counter guy who has no front teeth, wears a hair net, and is named Bubba, but he hinted about going out for Buffalo wings. I didn't catch the hint.

I think I got off the point. I think I started off whining about not feeling so well, but why talk about pain and suffering when you can have a laugh at my expense.

After all, that's what friends are for.

Vanity?

Last week, I had my eyelids lifted. According to the doctor it was necessary to correct my vision, so I didn't argue. (Even though the thought of a knife coming that close to my eyebrows was a little nerve wracking.) I didn't argue because the end result was that I might look a little better and even though I'm not particularly vain, there is that desire to look the best that I can, considering what I have to work with.

The bad part is I actually scoff at my friends who fantasize about plastic surgery. I have several friends who are strikingly attractive but who sit and obsess over imperfections that are (a) not noticeable to a normal person, or (b) actually give their faces more beauty and character. I am reminded that this phenomenon is nothing new as I have been re-reading Jane Austen's Persuasion this week (the annotated version of course). Several of the characters are obsessed with their appearance to the point of absurdity, and the main character wins back the love of her life after her looks radically change for the better. Oh and she's also of high moral character and well read but ....

And here's a confession. When the surgeon told me they might remove my breasts, my first thought was great, now I can get implants, and they won't drag the floor when I walk anymore. It was but a fleeting thought and was soon replaced by the realities of what that kind of surgery and recovery would mean, but there was that moment.

I made a commitment that on the coming Monday I would return to wearing makeup and going hatless. But now as I look at the nasty bruises around my eyes and the Frankenstein stitches across my lids, I hesitate. Would people think I was a trucker who got into a barfight? I'm tired of being thought of as "cancer girl" and I want to return to normalcy, however, not sure this is the look I'm going for. Maybe another week or 4 or 5.

I have confidence

I've seen The Sound of Music about 100 times and I love the song where Maria is sent from the convent and sings about all her confidence. Then she stands before the captain's "palace" and wavers, so overwhelmed by the magnificence of his estate.

Over Christmas I had 10 days off from work. I rested, spent time with loved ones, and just generally relaxed. I began to plan the rest of my life as my strength returned. I went back to work ready to exude confidence and retake my place in the world, but three days into the week, I was ready to go back to bed.

Last week I sat in a meeting and listened to individuals speak with confidence about their current projects, and I realized that I seemed to have lost my nerve. Me! I felt shy and afraid to open my mouth. The workplace has a certain rhythm, and I seem to have lost the beat. I guess like any production you have to practice. Learn the parts, the motivation of the characters, and maybe just for now, pretend to be sure of myself.

When I first started dating, my mother used to tell me to pretend I was Scarlett O'Hara. Scarlett was always confident and in control. I supposed I could use her again as a role model, but not sure when to use fiddle-de-dee in a business meeting. Any suggestions?

Stopping and smelling the roses

I have never been able to just sit and do nothing. To prevent this scenario from catching me unprepared, I kept books in my purse, books in the car, and a selection of poetry in the john. I was thrilled to discover that I could download the Kindle book reader to my phone which meant another venue to read should I be caught without a book.

Times have changed. I can now sit and stare mindlessly into space. I got lots of practice doing this over the last year, and frankly, I wondered what kept me from taking this up much sooner.

I've had lots of free time of late which gave me the opportunity to catch up on my reading and view movies that I'd missed while grinding through my doctoral studies. It would be great if I could report that I'd finally made it through just one of Joyce's novels or finished reading the Faulkner collection, but alas that is not the case. Most of the books I read featured serial killers, steroid-enhanced law enforcement agents, or girls with dragon tattoos. As for film, the closest thing I came to the classics was "The Big Lebowski", featuring Jeff "the dude" Bridges?

I also had time to just sit. Sometimes alone but often with friends and family. We talked about the important things and even the trivial ones and on occasion we just sat and were quiet.

I hope that as I continue to improve, I retain the ability to just relax and not feel that every moment has to be filled with some kind of activity. I used to believe that I had to work 24/7. I was always on email or telephone solving problems, keeping ahead and in the end all it got me was burnt out and tired. So I want to incorporate separation of job and life. And maybe, eventually, I'll have enough mental energy to read something with a little more substance than crime novels. Or maybe I'll just spend more time with friends and family, and they can tell me about what they've been reading.