Monday-Saturday – (Notice that I clumped these days together.) Although I had great intentions of posting every day, looking at a computer screen has absolutely been out of the question.

I was supposed to go back to school on Monday and be normal. Well, when Monday morning rolled around, I knew that a day at LHS wasn’t going to happen. I was actually afraid that I might never feel “normal” again. I felt like my head was going to literally explode. As I am writing this entry on Saturday afternoon (following Thanksgiving), it feels as if many, many days have passed; therefore, I’m not sure anymore exactly when specific things occurred. However, I’ll do my best to recreate the past.

Gary got up early (very early) Monday morning—not that he had slept at all the night before due to my tossing, turning, and moaning (not a good thing). He called the doctor on call and trekked to the pharmacy to acquire some very potent medicine for my head. Ironically, my headache was making me nauseated. At this point, I’m not sure what was caused by chemotherapy. Everyone had to work that day, so I sat positioned in the recliner in the most comfortable position I could muster, trying not to aggravate my neck. My deeply dismayed family left me—still moaning--under a pile of blankets, armed with a package of saltine crackers, my newly-discovered miracle Powerade (Arctic Shatter), and my cell phone. The most important thing, however, was that perched upon my lap was my trusty companion and guardian, Sir Tabasco Hot Shot (Toby). My dachshund and I faced the day together. He stuck to me like glue. Despite my genuine desire to read one of the myriad books sent home with me by Bekki, my Media Specialist, or to grade papers or something meaningful along those lines, all I could do was watch the clock, eager for the hours to pass so I could re-medicate.

Tuesday was a bit better. Katie attempted to take me out for a ride because I hadn’t been out of the house for so many days, but I got motion sickness in the car, and we had to go home. Poor Katie. What a day. That’s all I have to say about that.

Wednesday arrived. I felt better. I showered. I sat. I dried off. I sat. I dressed. I sat. Katie patiently sat with me (through the entire process) and sighed, “Is this what it’s going to be like when you’re old?” I responded, “Old, heck. This is me now!”

Martha from the wig—oops cranial prosthesis—boutique called and said that my cranial prosthesis was in. As it was the day before the holiday, she would be in until noon. I told Katie that we had to go pick up the wig because, according to my calculations, I could need it upon returning to work after the holidays. She drove, and I felt the waves of nausea. I closed my eyes for the entire journey, and she assured me that we were almost there. I sucked on peppermints and held an “upsy” bag . . . just in case. We were in Katie’s care. She’s kind of particular about vomit. We arrived and parked in the parking garage . . . the nice, dark parking garage. We sat for a few minutes so I could settle my stomach and then ventured into the salon within the hospital. I was so pleased to see Martha. She always makes my day. I continued to suck peppermint. Praise peppermint!

My wig was too cute. It is a bit darker than my natural color, but I’m learning to be open to new possibilities. Martha texturized it, and Katie and I agreed that I looked marvelous. (I think “texturized” is a verb now.) I continued to suck peppermint. Praise peppermint! I tried on hats galore and purchased a new set of bangs—yes, bangs—you need bangs under hats. This is a whole new world! Martha also texturized my bangs. The hats were too cute. Katie and I have a shopping philosophy that if it looks good, you can’t just leave it there. It might be gone tomorrow. Needless to say, I could be the proud owner of a mini-haberdashery, but we had the good sense to purchase a nice selection of colors and to leave some for other people. Armed with new hair and head adornments, we ventured back to the car. I closed my eyes and made the journey back home. Praise peppermint!

We arrived at home to find that my mom had just arrived to celebrate the holidays with us.