Hair and boobs and groupies... oh my!

Bless her heart... my best friend, Joy, mothers me.  I've been overwhelmed with appointments, tests and medical decisions in addition to dealing with the pincushion after-effects of surgery.  I have reams of information sitting on my desk that were thrown at me while in the dazed state of shock and denial.  Joy called the hospital's cancer care department to ask about where to buy wigs, just in case CMF isn't as gentle as I hope it will be.  Every day of my life is already a bad hair day.  My ancestors blessed me with hair that is baby fine and thin so losing any hair at all is going to make my usual comb-over and hairspray-til-it-doesn't-move hairdo look even more ridiculous!  Evergreen Hospital has a great cancer patient services department.  They told Joy about their library of free information, free donated wigs and prosthetics.  Joy is a shopaholic who knows a bargain when she sees it so... Woo Hoo... shopping spree!  She set up an appointment that coincided with a breast cancer support group meeting of the Bosom Buddies, then threw me in her car and took me there.  That set off the tears.  First, because Joy is an angel who sees what I need and just does it.  She sat with my husband during my surgery, bought me cute PJ's to wear when I was recuperating, organized an army of friends to bring meals, brought me flowers, cards, gifts... and she listens.  She made my Mom's 93^rd birthday special last week when I didn't have the energy to think about it.  Joy should be cloned!  But the tears also flowed because it really hits home... I am sick.  I don't and won't look the same ever again.  I've joined a club I never wanted to be in.  Pre-cancer normal is gone and I have to find the new me.

The wigs are pretty strange looking.  The dog thinks they're predators and wants to attack them.  I brought home 4 in different colors... shall I be dark and sultry,  red and dangerous, blond and well... blond?  I read a blog where the woman decided to just go bald instead of wear a wig because she was afraid the wig looked better than her own hair and she didn't want people to think she was sick when her own hair grew back in!  I understand completely.  The boobs are going to take some getting used to, too.  They are big and heavy, but perky!  I'm going to go to my Weight Watcher's meeting today just to see the old gang and encourage them to get healthy... but I'm not going to weigh in with the boobs on!  I'll be searching out the light weight version for sure.

There were a lot of women at the Bosom Buddy support group meeting... sadly, so many.  I was apprehensive about going.  It's hard enough to be upbeat for the people I know without trying to be supportive to strangers.  I don't have the energy to smile for one more person or sound strong or inspirational or heroic...whatever.   But it was good.  It was a safe place to vent with others going through the same journey, feeling a lot of the same frustrations and fears.  Sure our families are there for us, or they think they're being there for us, but they are not in our shoes, not really.  Yes, some women were sad and tearful, but others were funny and made us laugh.  We shared our diagnosis.  We shared how that made us feel.  Some were long time survivors... other just diagnosed.  I came away feeling less alone, less isolated from the "normal" world that a routine mammogram changed for me.