Hair Today.... Gone Tomorrow....

Hair....  A woman's crowning glory.  Long, short, black, brown, blonde, red.  No matter what style, it is how women, more times than not, define part of their being.  In its definition -  A protein filament that grows from follicles found in the dermis. Hair is one of the defining characteristics of mammals. Attitudes towards different forms of hair, such as hairstyles and hair removal, vary widely across different cultures and historical periods, but it is often used to indicate a person's personal beliefs or social position, such as their age, sex, or religion.


All of my life I have had a civil war with my hair.  Growing up I hated every single piece of it on my head.  Number one, it was red.  Number two, it was unruly and as naturally curly as a poodle's. The irony in this is that both my mom and dad have dark hair and dark eyes.  Both my sister and I have red hair.  My eyes, hazel; my sister's blue.  Genetics are a funny thing, or maybe not so much these days (thanks a lot BRCA2).   Grade school children are cruel, as we all know.  Hell I was cruel I'm sure at some point.  Probably just retaliating for the cruelty imposed onto me by mean little children who didn't understand why my hair was red, when everyone else's was brown, black, or a few of the blessed girls I was always envious of, blonde.  Growing up red headed brought much teasing and name calling.  My favorites... red headed woodpecker, Pipi Longstocking, and carrot top.  Add the fact that it was also so curly there wasn't much you could do with it, except just let it do it's thang, well you can see why I hated it so!  

Back in those days there were no Chi straighteners for those unruly curls, so you just sucked it up and tried to figure out what the hell to do with it.  I hate to admit this as it sounds so ridiculous, but my go to style move was to wet it down and place a baseball cap on my head as tight as possible and when it was dry, well at least the top of my head was semi-straightened out by the pressure of the cap.  LOL  Ridiculous!!!  Also back then parents did not run their middle school girls to the "salon" to get a dye job or to get it chemically straightened.  Maybe some of the "rich" girls got this special treatment, but for me, and I believe most of my friends, we got our hair cut at the local barber shop.  And you just dealt with, as best as you could, what God gave ya! 

When I got old enough to start experimenting on my own with the few styling tools available to us back in the "olden days" I tried everything! Curling iron, which fried the already dry coarse hair; hot curlers, which actually were great life savers during my high school years in the 80's.  I had the biggest hair in my class probably.  You take extremely long, naturally curly hair and wrap it up tight in heated curlers then spray the shit out of it with Aqua Net while holding each piece out and using the blow dryer on it, well you get the picture... the biggest most awesome 80's hair EVER!  LOL   I begged weekly for my mother to let me go to the salon to straighten it.  And always the same answer.  "As long as you live under our roof we will not pay to have that beautiful hair straightened".  LOL 

Well I showed them! haha.  I moved out at age 19 and got married and one of my first things I did was hit the salon and straightened my hair.  I chemically straightened my hair for probably close to 5 years or more.  Then the Chi hair straightener was invented and I was in heaven.  I could go curly or straighten my hair on any given day.  By this time I had accepted the curls and some days I even kinda liked them a little.  It was definitely easy to get ready.  Wash and go and instant style.  

I then moved on to my next phase, which was my grade school envy, and I dyed my hair blonde for probably another 6 years or so.  Pretty sure the old saying blondes have more fun is true, because man I had some fun during those years LOL! 

A few years ago I decided I had damaged my poor hair enough.  It was broken and dingy, so I decided to go back to the red, curly hair I was born with.  These days it comes in a little grey, but the roots get painted my natural color.  I had let my hair grow and I finally felt like I had come into myself and my hair.  It was beautiful and I was loving it.  So of course my voo doo doll holder realized I was happy with something and decided it was time to take that away from me too.  BTW there's still a reward out for Mr. Voo Doo.  LOL

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in December 2017, I was devastated over the thought that I was going to lose my hair due to chemo.  But after all of my surgeries and pathology reports it was determined that I did not have to have chemo.  I'm serious ya'll I cried all the way home from the doctor's office that day and probably for an hour after.  Tears of joy.  I was not going to have to have chemo and was not going to lose my hair.  

When I found out my cancer was back I knew I was headed for the chemo chair this time.  Which meant I was going to lose my beautiful, long, red, curly hair.  Isn't it funny that I spent so many years hating the exact hair that I am now crying daily over the thought of losing.  Craziness!!  Rumor has it that most people lose their hair on this type of chemo right around day 12-14 after the first infusion. So the day before my first infusion I left the house with an intention of cutting it off, I just didn't know where.  I drove around aimlessly and since it was a Sunday, I knew my choices would be limited, but I felt the urge and needed to do it while I had the balls.  I ended up in the mall at JC Penny.  Why, I do not know, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't by accident.  I walked up to the desk and the man was helping another girl but said I'll be right there. He turned around and asked me what I was needing.  I immediately started sobbing ya'll.  Me, sobbing in public to a guy I've never met.  He looked like "oh shit, I'm getting a nut job".  LOL  I then explained to him I would be starting chemo tomorrow and I have to cut my hair so it won't be so devastating for it to all fall out because it was so long.  This amazing kind man, who's name is Ray, took me into the salon.  To the back chair where I would feel comfortable crying, and said "everything is going to be okay, I'm going to take care of you".  He talked to me and calmed me and even made me laugh a few times through my tears as he cut off most of my beautiful long hair. He braided it first and then cut the braids first.  I decided I would keep them as a reminder of my strength on this day.  I truly believe Ray was put in my path that day to help me get through what needed to be done, with kindness and such compassion I feel truly blessed to have met him.

Today I am sitting on day 12 from my first infusion.  I took a shower and was terrified to wash my hair for fear it would all fall out when I touched it.  But so far so good.  But I know that any day it is going to happen.  Day 13, I decided to go see my buddy Ray again and cut A LOT more off.  Him and I talked and gossiped and bonded as if we were old friends and I didn't even cry once this time!!  I still believe this amazing man was put in my path for a reason.  Pretty sure I've made a friend for life! And while I hate this new look, I know it is what had to be done to alleviate the inevitable, and when it starts coming out in chunks, it will lessen the freak out a little bit.



Today, day 16....  I ran my hand through what is left of my hair this morning and it is starting to come out by the handfuls.  I am terrified to shower this morning, knowing what is coming.  I know I am going to cry like a baby. But I'm as prepared as I can be.  I  have my wigs, my hats, and my inner strength to once again push me past this next emotional hurdle.  

One thing I do know for sure, when it comes back in and starts to grow, I don't care if it is straight or curly; brown, black, red or purple, I will NEVER complain about my hair again.  I will be grateful that I have it and pray that this awful shit stays away for good this time and I get to keep my hair forever this time.   Love what God gave you.  You never know when something you thought you hated will become something you will become devastated to lose!

Raising from the Dead -- Part I

Geez it's been a while since I've updated on the health front.  Honestly, here I am two years later and I am still in the belief that this is just a terrible nightmare and one day I will wake up and it will have been just that.  I guess maybe that's how our minds trick us into thinking that it is really not as bad as it is at the time we're going through something terrible.

Carving the TurKristy
Surgery went as planned the day before Thanksgiving.  For those of you that didn't know, it was to remove lymph nodes underneath my left arm, as this is where the cancer has made it's fabulous return.  The procedure is called an Axillary Node Dissection (I think)…  haha...  Where the surgeon basically cuts your armpit in half and digs out the nodes that could possibly be riddled with the lovely C word.  Which has now, once again, left me without the use of my left arm.  Raising it and any range of motion will be a minimum until physical therapy starts.  My surgeon took 10 nodes this time, so along with the 5 that were taken from my very first surgery two years ago, I'm now down 15 lymph nodes under my left arm.  Unfortunately this can cause some other problems down the road, but I'm not even going to begin to worry about that shit right now!

I spent Thanksgiving day in the hospital.  Which was not a fun way to begin a holiday season that is supposed to be filled with fun, parties, family gatherings, etc.  But it is what it is. And was released a few days later, back to my house and my comfy Healing Chair.  Ready to get to healing so I could get on with the next phase and back to living my life.

A follow up with my surgeon a few days later was just the news I needed to hear.  Out of the 10 nodes that were taken only 1 had cancer!  That was the best news possible for this type of surgery.  And she pulled my drains out that day too, so big day!  haha... The drains are a pain in the ass (refer back to February 2018 posts for more fun gory details) LOL...  The discussion was then regarding next treatment plan.  At this point the plan was 4 chemo infusions and maybe radiation, maybe not.  You see you can only radiate so much and then that is no longer an option and she is thinking saving that in our back pocket in case of another recurrence might be the best plan of action, but in the end it will be my oncologists final decision.

I still have little range of motion in my arm, and lifting my arm past half way is a biach!  I am to start physical therapy sometime soon, but chemo is wrecking havoc on that plan of action, so for now, it will just have to wait.

Glitches are Bitches - Part Deux
Remember way back when in 2018 when it seemed like I had a win and then it was taken away by some shitty ass glitch because, yes, my voodoo doll holder hates me!!  LOL

Here we are again 2 years later with another gut punch.  The original plan was 4 chemo treatments over 8 weeks.  I was going to be sick... yes.  I was going to lose my hair... yes.  But as of the Friday before my first infusion I had finally accepted all of that and was ready to get these 4 infusions out of the way and back to living life.  A little chemo.  A little PT.  And back at it!  hahahahaha! Wrong answer.

That very Friday morning my oncologist, out of the blue, called to let me know that he was adding 12 more chemo infusions to my regimine.  The last 12 would be once a week for 12 weeks.  Are you fucking kidding me??  This now puts me into almost July .... 5 months of chemo....  I'm not even gonna lie I lost my shit.  Laid in bed and cried for 12 hours.  Depression took over and I, up until now, haven't even really been able to talk about it much.  I thought it was overkill.  I had one lymph node out of 10 and they took it.  My PET scan was clear other than this area.  WHY???  But no explanation on the phone, just a call to let me know of the game plan change.  I was to be in the office the next Monday for my first infusion and he said we would talk then.  Uh yeah dude we're going to F'n talk alright!!

Chemo Day --- Number One of 16
The most terrifying day of my life thus far.

The morning started with a visit with my oncologist.  And of all days, I forgot my Xanax.  WTF.  And I was already prepared to rip him a new asshole for the conversation the Friday before regarding 12 more chemo treatments.  Words like overkill, and just using me for more money, etc. all were on the tip of my tongue as I walked down the hall into his office.

Here's where things get fun....  He walks in and says we need to discuss my pathology of the cancer they removed from the lymph node.  Well fuck... yep here we go.... glitches are bitches...  my cancer has now taken a more aggressive turn and the physical make up of the tumor has changed.  Basically, without giving you numbers and information you have no idea what I'm talking about, it went from a 4% aggressive tumor to a 53% aggressive tumor over the last two years.  Therefore, now the extra chemo and treatments are necessary to make sure that it hasn't floated into some other part of my body to come back and get me again.  Sooooooooooo the good doctor escaped my ass eating on that lovely Monday morning.  But again, deflated over the news of more chemo.

Next is the dreaded walk down the hall to the infusion room.  Another one of those walks where the inmates must feel like as they walk to the gas chamber....  Terrified as hell, talking so fast and jittering all over the place, I was a mess!  Then the nurse sticks the horrible needle into my port to flush it and get things going.  But what happens next is lovely.  Ativan.  LOL....  Let's just say Kristy does not remember the rest of Monday, which isn't a bad thing!

Tuesday came and went as a blur.  I do not remember much at all except feeling like I was dead and alive both at the same time.  I could barely lift my head up to even drink or make it to the restroom.  Not going to lie folks, it's vicious shit.  I pray to God you never, ever have to go through this.  There were moments this week that I just wanted to walk into the doctor's office next Monday and just tell him that I quit and that I am not strong enough to handle this.  But I know I have to.  For myself.  For my son.  For my future grandbabies that I want to live to see.  And all the places I haven't been to yet that are still waiting for me as well.

Wednesday morning came and I was rebounding a bit.  Yes!  I got out of bed and went to the chair.  Miracle!  haha! Silly me.... the euphoria was only temporary as once the Neulasta contraption attached to my arm deployed a whole new kind of hell began.  I woke up in the middle of the night on Wednesday and felt like my bones were being beat with hammers.  The pain was so intense you could not even touch my body without pain shooting straight through to my bones.  This lasted all day Thursday as well.  You see the Neulasta contraption helps to replenish the white blood cells that are destroyed by the chemo infusion.  So once it deploys it immediately goes into your bones and is forcing your body to make bone marrow.  And we all know our body has a mind of it's own and doesn't like to be forced to do anything.... obviously.

Friday and Saturday have came and went as well.  Thank goodness I am feeling somewhat better, but the exhaustion is absolutely incredible.  I cannot believe that a walk to the mailbox makes you feel like you've ran a mile, but it does!  Hopefully I will continue to rebound this next week, before my next round of hell begins on the 13th.  And even though I will not want to, and will probably cry all the way down the hall again, I'll be back in the infusion chair again for Part II.  Love you all and please keep the prayers coming!! ❣

2019 - WTF Was That???

One year.  Doesn't seem like a long time in the scheme of things.  But when it's a bad one, it seems like it was 20.  And when it's two in a row, it seems like a lifetime since I have felt any sort of normalcy at all.

One year ago I was sitting on a rooftop overlooking downtown Columbia getting ready to kiss 2018 goodbye, good riddance and adios!  We had just gotten back from St. Louis and purchasing my dream convertible car as a celebration for surviving the year.  My fiancé and I were going to celebrate the fact that the horrible awful year was over and we were looking into 2019 with hope for a healthy, happy new year.  After all I had survived cancer, 4 major surgeries, an ICU stay that changed my life, two pet deaths, and my grandfather and aunt's house fire.  It was time to celebrate that we had survived and that it was all over with!  We were ready to start a brand new year happy and healthy! With champagne and sparklers (yes sparklers, I was so excited) in hand, we rang in the new year with hope and excitement for a new beginning.  2019 was going to be our year! BUT as per my new normal, my voodoo doll holder had other plans.  Seriously folks, there's a reward out for the voodoo doctor! LOL!

So here we are, one year later.  Getting ready to flip the big middle finger at another year of hell going out the door!  This year, however, there will be no rooftop celebration.  No convertible.  No fiancé. No sparklers.  No champagne.  Instead I will be probably vomiting, or shitting myself to death, or at the very least, so tired I will not be able to raise my head up off of my pillow, from the poison that will be input into my body the day before.

2019 offered up to me a broken heart, sold my dream convertible, sold my home, the loss of my ex husband who was also one of my best friends in this world, the loss of my only aunt, continued pancreas problems which landed me in the hospital twice, and yes, the gift that keeps on giving, my cancer returned, this time in my lymph node, had another surgery and will be beginning chemo the 30th.... Irony at it's best.....  I cried all the way home from the doctor just one year earlier after finding out that I would not need chemo.  I was so relieved.  Yet here we are... one last bite in the ass from 2019!

But I am also able to look back onto 2019 and realize that I have gained tons of knowledge and massive inner strength that I had no idea was inside of me.  I am emerging from 2019 mentally strong and amazingly self aware.

The biggest and best take away of the year.  Cherish and love your family.  They will always love you and be beside you no matter what.  When my life went to hell in May and again last month and I needed someone, it was my family that was there for me.  Not a man, not even my "friends".  They, for the most part, disappeared this year as well.  But my mom, sister, and dad were all there, by my side.  And for this I will be eternally grateful.  God has given me my sister back.  We have not been close for years, but through this year, our amazing adventure to New York and all of my illnesses, she has been there for me and we have bonded again, as sisters should always be.  I have always believed everything happens for a reason.  Sometimes it sucks, but I think in the end the outcome is because something else is supposed to happen.  My fiancé and I had a whirlwind trip to New York planned to celebrate me beating cancer and just to get away and finally have a good time.  Two weeks before our trip of a lifetime, our relationship came to an abrupt and shocking end.  I had already paid for the trip and it was non-cancelable.  But as it turned out my sister was in a position at the time that she could take 11 days off with very short notice and agreed to come along.  Then we decided mom had to come along also.  You see us three had NEVER had a girls only trip anywhere.  So while it sucked that my relationship was over and a trip that had originally been planned as a romantic thank you for taking care of me while I was sick trip didn't happen.  It was the best mom and daughter trip ever!  We laughed, cried, ate, walked, shopped, played awful tourists, and just bonded.  This, I believe, was the work of a greater power.  I believe it was supposed to happen this way.

Another biggie for 2019...  I got sober.  Yes I was forced to due to health issues, but for the most part I did it.  Was I perfect.... hell NO!  I fell off the damn wagon a few dozen times.  BUT....  I can assure you it was the first year in a very, very long time that was not an all out drunkfest.  And I know that I am going into 2020 with a strong will to never drink again.  Will I achieve this goal?  Maybe so.  Maybe not.  But I at least have the will to get healthy after chemo and radiation and not put toxic shit into my body ever again.  Baby steps.  But steps nonetheless!

2019 also brought some great trips with friends and checks off my bucket list.  I looked back through my pictures from the year and man they were great trips!  Of course the Canada and New York City trip in May was a bucket list dream trip with my mom and my sis.

Florida, back to my mother ship, Treasure Island, with two amazing women whom I am blessed to call friends, over the 4th of July.  I am so glad they agreed to go with me.  This holiday was going to be hard and I just had to get out of town. I learned so much about myself on this trip.  Treasure Island was the planned location of our retirement home.  We had been there over the past 6 years at least 10 times.  I wasn't sure that I could enjoy it or face it after the breakup.  But with the help of my girls, we laughed, cried and just had a blast.  I reclaimed it as my own and I still, some day, will live there come hell or high water!  I gained amazing inner strength from this trip.

And finally Vegas in October, again with my two travel BFF's.  In Vegas I checked my bucket list and saw The Eagles and Aerosmith on two consecutive nights.  It was amazing!   I danced, sang, cried and had the best time ever.  All by myself.  And guess what, I was OK.  Again inner strength was gained.

This year I also won a gold medal in the Corporate Show Me State Games for bowling. I was chosen to go onto the field at ACS day at the ballpark in St. Louis for the Cardinals game and represent all cancer survivors.  I attended 10 concerts throughout the year besides the Vegas ones and also I volunteered to work Roots and Blues Festival.  I attended several different fund raisers throughout the year for many different organizations.  These events definitely make you grateful for the life you have, even though it may be a shit storm at times.  I attended my 30 year class reunion (yes I'm old LOL). And made amazing new friends through a cancer retreat.  It was an intense 3 day weekend and the bond made sure we will be forever sisters.

Another biggie, for the first time ever I went to restaurants and bars and ate by myself, table for one, and survived.  While I do not prefer to go and do things alone, this year I learned that I was going to have to learn how to be okay alone.  Friends disappeared and my option was to stay home and feel sorry for myself or go and just do it.  Two years ago I could not have ever done that!  I have learned so much about myself and who I am and who I want to be.  I know I will be going into 2020 stronger than ever in my faith in myself.  And while I have learned I do not need anyone, I do know I want that one special person in my life to share the rest of it with.  But I now know that I do not have to push it and do not have to settle for less than the fairy tale.  And while I am waiting for Prince Charming, I am going to be OK with me, myself, and I.  This is a huge self awaking for me.  Being alone does not mean you're desperately lonely.  It just means you love yourself enough to never settle.

And while 2020 will definitely not be starting out as a celebratory year I can assure you that when I am standing in some magical place when the clock strikes Midnight December 31, 2020 this chick will be, with God's grace and a shit ton of luck, kissing the man of my dreams, cancer free, and living the best life I have in front of me to live!  That is my New Years wish for me! Happy 2020 everyone.  May it be your best year in the books yet!!