Creature Feature

So last night I was hanging out with some pals at my friend Ari's house (which is essentially the closest thing to The Burrow one will find in Smithtown, and please know that that is a very high compliment. And also that I have been reading/watching an insane amount of Harry Potter.) And Ari's brother was kind of doing a crossword puzzle when he announced the clue "Donkey's counterpart." So I'm like, "Duhhhh Shrek" and he says nope, it's eight letters. "Can't be tail then huh," I say. We get as far as "Shrek Tail" and give up to watch DANCE! which is how everyone at Ari's refers to So You Think You Can Dance. Then we watched The Half Blood Prince and Andrew dropped me off at 2 am which is, for me, crraaazy late to be out, and I passed out until 10: 41 when my brain woke me up......with the answer to the crossword, completely unsolicited by my consciousness.

Elephant! Like the Democrat/Republican symbols. Now, the only evidence of this being the answer so far is that it is eight letters long since I don't have the actual crossword to fit it into, but I have to say I am pretty impressed with myself. I wasn't even AWAKE, people. In fact, I was dreaming about making a whirlpool at a resort somewhere with a really weird group of people. I clearly have genius I am just not tapping into. I need to get a yoga video. Or the Rosetta Stone for Mandarin Chinese. Or something.

My real point is, I can tell today is going to be a good day. My mouth has finally stopped hurting. Wait...have I even written about that? In case, I haven't said so, the worst part of chemotherapy is the mouth pain that comes along with it. Chemo attacks fast-growing cells: cancer cells, but also hair cells (which we shall get to in a minute. Oh, how we will get to it.) and skin cells and the cells in your mouth. It's common to get actual mouth sores (yyyyick), but I haven't experienced that. (Knock on wood.) What happens is that it essentially feels like little barrels of TNT are going off against the insides of my cheeks and teeny people are jackhammering into my teeth and then having a bbq lunch break on my tongue. It makes food taste weird for the first half of eating it and sometimes the pain goes into my jaw and up into my ears. The only thing that helps is brushing my teeth with warm water and swishing a mixture of 1 tsp baking soda + 1 tsp salt + one quart of water in a bottle. (Trying to be specific in case anyone wants to use this as a reference one day.)

But like I said, the mouth pain is gone, finally. I think in general, though, I am going to be achey until I stop getting the shots. And as taking painkillers constantly isn't any kind of a solution, I am going to look into the department of complimentary medicine at Stonybrook Hospital to see about massage or acupuncture (although I find the thought of volunteering to be

stuck with so many needles laughable). My Aunt Connie, who's a midwife, has been telling me to do so from the beginning, so I think it's time.

Speaking of timing, it was finally time to shave my head. Correction--it was finally time for CODY to shave my head. Saturday was my parents' 35 anniversary, and when I got in the shower before dinner, I was just pulling out clumps of hair and crying. I feel like I've been pretty blase about losing my hair on here so far, but the truth is that it SUUUUUUCKS. My hair has always been such a huge part of my physical identity and a modem of my self expression. It's been long, short, blonde, blue, purple, black. I prided myself on it. And then one day it's swirling down a shower drain.

That being said, it's a fine line between acknowledging the bad versus harping on the negative. I find that the former is necessary for self awareness and preservation, while the former will lead you into a self-pitying spiral that's no good for anyone. So I will end the wah-fest here.

On Sunday I decided it was time to shave my head, but I didn't know how to use the clippers. Enter, once again, my amazing little broseph. We all (me, Cody, my mom and my pup Lily) went up to my mom's bathroom and I sat on a bench while Cody did it. Lily, with a very alarmed look in her eyes, kept looking from my head to the floor as fluffs of hair fell on it. Then she retrea

ted to watch from the door before disappearing altogether. I think she was reminded of being at the groomer and hightailed it out of there before we got to her.

"How does my head look?" I asked, halfway through. Cody paused for a minute before saying, "...Really small." And it's true. My head is tiny. It's like the size of a cantaloupe. I keep weirding myself out when I walk past mirrors because I feel like a new version of my head was just plopped onto my body. But I'm really happy I did it. I just feel relieved, like a big test was over or something. My hair is still falling out, but it's way less demoralizing in 2 centimeter pieces.

So, basically, combine this:

with this:

and a dash of this:

and you get this:

Hahah oh, jeez. I don't think I've ever done a more accurate mathematical equation. Whew.

My room is a dddiiiiiisssssaster zone of clothes and cans of seltzer. My wig is lying on my dresser like a dead animal. I have never been allowed to get away with this kind of mess in my room before, and I don't think my parents' lenience is good for me. So I am going to go clean before anything else happens today. Adieu!