28 June 2016

Around 6 years ago, my sister Marlene journeyed through her own cancer experience. It is with no apologies whatsoever that I present for you the following checklist, plagiarised shamelessly from her own blog, simply because I can now relate to it so well. (Incidentally, Marlene is doing fine, and has now passed the magical 5-year cancer-free mark.)

Ten very positive things about having no hair

1. The shower plughole will be free for water and soap.

2. I’ll save oodles otherwise spent on shampoo and hair conditioner, hairspray and mousse, and especially those regular visits to the hairdresser.

3. I won’t have to suffer those mindless hours spent at the hairdresser catching up on Geoffrey Edelsten’s numerous ex’s, or why Prince Harry was left blushing. I’ll have more time to ponder life’s great mysteries.

4. Shower time will be lessened, and I’ll save water – it’s a greener, cheaper way of life.

5. There’ll be no more bad hair days.

6. I’ll have increased aerodynamics for my many athletic pursuits.

7. I can go out in the rain and not be concerned about my coiffure.

8. I can have a ride in an Austin Healey (Brian’s favourite), because I don’t need to worry about my ‘wind-tunnel’ hairdo after driving with the hood down.

9. There’s no need to check my shoulders when I wear black.

10. People might mistake me for Gandhi, and that can only be an ennobling thing.

 

However, life is not just about long hair, short hair, no hair.                                              We've had a pleasant few days, enjoying a congregational dinner, and a very special service of farewell to our pastor.       

We have also been for the odd drive to overlook the sea - after all this is the time of year when humpback and southern right whales are quite commonly seen in these waters. Unfortunately there's an awful lot of water in between the whales and it's not so easy to spot one of these gentle giants, so the minute one is spotted, the message is promptly shared via facebook and 'whalemail'. Meanwhile it's spectacular simply to overlook the sea (keeping one's beanie firmly attached), watching the waves smash over the rocks, seeing the gannets flying low over the sea looking for a tasty morsel, and pondering those great mysteries of life.

Nice to go for a short walk along the fence - and no, we didn't spot a whale... 

... but we did spot some lovely coffee and cakes at the lighthouse cafe.

23 June 2016 Hair today, gone tomorrow - well today actually

I'm sitting here in our lounge room, listening to the rain on a good old wintery day - and discovering that the last entry was back on 10 June. Time to update. 

Not a great lot has changed since then - except for the amount of hair on my head. Sorafenib only has the effect of hair-thinning in one in four people - and it seems I'm one of the 'lucky' ones - with a vengeance. Whilst I have been wearing hats/beanies for a few weeks now, there begs the question - at what stage do you actually shave off the rest of your hair and become bald? When speaking with several cancer nurses about this, they just smile and say, "oh you'll know when you're ready". Hmm, well this week I knew - I was ready. No more picking hairs out of my collars and hairbrush, no more sweeping up hairs off the bathroom floor (leaning over my wheelchair with the hand broom). Then to add insult to injury, the scissors slipped sideways while I was trimming my skimpy fringe and I cut it sideways, just like little kids do with scissors (eh, Caitlin??) So this morning I headed out (in the rain) to see what my lovely hairdresser could do. She actually did a very commendable  job, leaving me with a whisper of hair all over, and also a slight fringe. So it's done! I now have less hair on my head than I had 66 years ago (according to my one baby photo). So it's hats for now - and please understand if I don't feel like taking off my hat to reveal my bare head - there's just a hint of vanity left in me! I don't think I will get a wig, though the local Portland hospital is about to start up a 'wig bank' - not sure how I feel about that yet. It's even possible to buy a 'stick-on fringe' to attach to your hat - oh the things one learns that you never thought you'd need to know...

 

10 June 2016 and back home again, after a lovely few days away

Brian and I discovered that we can cope very well with the rigours of travel, having scoured the internet for wheelchair-friendly accommodation and loaded up our dosettes with pills.
On route for Albury we decided to break the trip with a night in Bendigo, always an interesting city to visit.

Brian found the scenery especially interesting...

 We then spent 3 days in Albury, enjoying the crisp mornings and sunny days, bar one. We, however, discovered that our wheelchair accessible room was next door to another room being renovated, and found that each morning at 8am on the dot, there was a mighty DRRRR as the 'jack hammer type' implement started the days work of removing tiles from the walls and floors. Not relaxing exactly, but ah well it got us up early to spend time with Sonya, Scott and the 4 grandchildren. This we loved and the following pictures are unashamedly devoted to the fun times we had, as we went with Liam and Lauren to school and picked up Kaylee from Preschool, as well as playing with them all at home.

Morgan loved spending time with Poppy,

Liam and Kaylee generously allowed me to hold a chicken,

Lauren received an academic award at School Assembly,

and Morgan loved to push Nan around in the wheelchair (and also have rides!).

We managed the car travels very well, and on the way home managed to call in on Simon and Caitlin for lunch, and then on Dale and Kodey to check out their new home. 

Healthwise, I continue to feel well, for which I am very thankful. However my hair has now thinned to such an extent that hats are now part of my winter wardrobe. It's the price one pays for the amazing cancer drugs available - lets just hope they are doing their job. My visit to the oncologist yesterday was encouraging, as the fluid he detected on my left lung four weeks ago appears to have cleared up by itself. This, he cautiously said, is a very promising response to the drug Sorafenib, as it shows that the cancer's influence on my body seems to be reduced. We will know more when I have further scans in six weeks time. The news yesterday of the cancer-related death of another friend my age, has highlighted for me the need to simply enjoy and appreciate our God-given time - and this I do gladly, whilst mourning the sad loss of this gentle man. 
Such is life.