It’s true. What they say about blondes. It’s definitely true. It’s enormously more fun, even with having to surrender a few IQ points. (I have already slid down the scale with my chemo brain, so it’s a win-win) 🙂
Danny, my expert hair director for the past 25 years, recently worked a little magic on my new locks, and I’ve been out and about test driving my blonde pixie, realizing that I’ve been missing out on a sh*t ton of golden good times over the past 50 years of brunetteness.
Guess what? Today marks Day 200 post transplant! My recent Graft vs. Host Disease speed bump has flattened out a bit, thanks to the new meds from Dr. Fantastic. He’s already tapering me on what he affectionately refers to as “vitamin P” – the dreaded Prednisone. PAB – Prednisone’s A Bitch. I’ve been on it long enough this time around to once again enjoy all the delightful side effects: 7 month pregnancy belly, beard and mustache, FUSUOLS – F-ed Up Super Ugly Old Lady Skin, and of course, the chipmunk face. Disney really needs to change its group’s names to Alvin, Simon, Theodore and Joshulman (©Todd). I’m hoping the taper continues and at a precipitous pace. My blood levels are still normal, although I’m not absorbing all of my immune suppressants, so Dr. F has increased my Tacrolimus. The GvH symptoms are diminishing nicely, with my mouth and lips almost back to normal and my facial rash improving.
My new dermo did say that I could have the redness on and off for the rest of my life or just on for the rest of my life. I could say FML, but at this point, I’m going with what ev. She is brilliant, as evidenced by her collection of tools in her exam room. Anyone who knows how to use such instruments as forcep w/teeth, bayonet w/teeth, bayonet w/o teeth, various and sundry baron suctions, tonotomy scissors, and the very frightening sounding takahashi is f-ing proficient in my book. If you look closely at the bottom drawer of her TOTC – Tools Of Terror Cart, you can see that she even keeps a f-ing alligator in there! Flat out, pure bad ass. She told us that I have a chance of getting skin cancer that is 10 times the average person’s. I just dropped a small fortune on an array of parasols. My left knee is still numb, along with my toes, but I have gotten myself back on the workout circuit, after a year of couch/hospital bed potato-ing. I only lasted 9 minutes on level 1 of the Life Cycle, but at least what Todd refers to as my 12-year-old boy ass was on the seat! I felt like a one-legged chain smoker (©Niederkofler) trying to sprint up Mt. McKinley. I have a looooong way to go to develop some muscle tone and get some skin to stick to the meat. And that’s what’s up with that.
I want to send a shout out to Louisa, my next door neighbor on the transplant floor of COH. We had our transplants just days apart and our husbands got to know each other, and each other’s wives’ day to day health updates, quite well during our stays, even though Louisa and I never were able to actually meet each other while we were there. Todd and Mike spent a lot of time in the visitors’ lounge watching sports and eating, since they had to wear masks in our rooms (bubbles). Since we were released and have been seeing our docs at the COH clinic, we have remained close. Louisa is also suffering with Graft vs. Host, but in a more severe way than I am. Her kidneys have been affected, and she has been readmitted to the hospital (for the second time since her transplant) and is on dialysis. She also has some serious eye problems related to Graft vs. Host and will need surgery soon. Please say a prayer for Louisa!