About this blog

I was diagnosed with breast cancer on June 11, 2010. As a result of my treatment, I have lymphedema in my left arm. I draw my strength from the Lord, as well as my family's Scots-Irish heritage. Our Graham's were a tough and scrappy bunch of fighters on the Scottish/English border. They came to America and continued to fight when necessary: in the American Revolution; the Civil War; and my brother is a Captain in the U.S. Army. My ancestors settled this country against all odds. My great-grandmothers on both sides of the family were pioneer women who settled the West. Along with that heritage, and the full armor of God, I am walking the walk and fighting the good fight.
Showing posts with label appearances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label appearances. Show all posts

Friday, September 17, 2010

Looks

Maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe I'm not as comfortable going out post-hair loss as I thought. But I feel like everyone is looking at me, giving me looks.

I notice it a lot with kids, even my own. The one exception is Jean-Marc. He doesn't seem to notice my fuzzy stubbly head. At the school yard, I see kids who know Isabelle giving me sideways, curious glances. It's normal, I suppose. Kids are curious. What do they know about cancer? Maybe they even think that they can catch the disease.

I notice it with adults too. I get a variety of looks from them. There is the "pity" look. "Oh you poor thing." I really don't like that one. I don't want to be pitied. I'm strong, I'm going to beat this thing. In a group of women, there is the look of relief. At least one in eight of us is going to be diagnosed with breast cancer. If I have it, that means 7 others are in the clear. They've dodged the bullet, at least for now.

I'm not throwing stones from a glass house. Heck, I even give myself a startled look when I look in a mirror. Mornings are the most bizarre. After a night of sleep, I stumble into the bathroom feeling like I did every other morning of my life. Maybe I slept well, maybe I didn't. It's even worse when I actually did get a good night of sleep. Then I look into the mirror and see a stranger who looks like she's been in a prisoner camp. A few deep breaths and I can go on. I just shake my head. Right. That's me with breast cancer.

Why should I care, anyway? I was at Costco yesterday and saw one woman who really deserved some looks. You see people in crazy get ups, hairdos and makeup all the time. They go out boldly like they look like a million bucks. I'm not talking about teenagers who make a point of trying to get attention by bizarre getups. At least I have a good excuse for my alternate look.

I feel petty and superficial for even blogging about this. But its something that I've been noticing and I do want to document this journey. It definitely is a lesson about how truly superficial outward appearances are.

Enough of that topic.

Today is a good day. I was able to do a Jillian DVD exactly 1 week after my second round of chemo. I've managed to get some form of exercise each day this week. Even on Monday, my "tired" day, I went for a power walk. I'm sure that keeping up the exercise is helping me get through this. I can't do what I did before my surgery, but I am doing what I can and pushing it where I can. I may have overdone it a bit yesterday with the pushups, though. I've had some shooting pains in my left incision area. So I'll back off on that for awhile. Darn!

It has been a busy week and I am looking forward to taking the kids out for frozen yogurt after school. Jean-Marc is still suffering from a runny nose. I'm thankful that I haven't had any symptoms. My taste buds are a bit strange, but that metallic taste seems to be fading a little bit. I bought an electric razor today to take care of the stubble on my head.

My prayer requests:
  • That Jean-Marc get over this cold without anyone else in the house getting it.
  • That the sores on my head go away. Let me bald gracefully, please!
  • That cancer cells be killed by the chemo. Let this all be worth what I'm having to go through to get to the other side.