Stigmata

I noticed a few days ago that I have a wide ridge midway up the nailbeds of both thumbs. I'd always heard that palm readers can "see" alot about you from your fingernails. You know traumas and events. I doubt that they can pinpoint anything specific, but I get the gist of recognizing that something big has happened in the near past. I realized that my ridges are a marker of the beginning of my treatment and that first long chemo hospitalization. Now that my nails have grown out some, the ridges are quite noticeable. But then, my head is still mostly scalp with thin wisps of grey and brown hair, some curly. It's not like you can't tell what is going on when someone has cancer.

Just as I have my running and rowing to keep me feeling as normal as possible during all of this, some people choose other things entirely. The other day there was this young girl in the chair next to me in clinic. She couldn't have been older than 24. I couldn't help but overhear her conversations with her mom who was with her, her husband who called her on her cellphone, and the provider who saw her after me. I don't know which disease she has, probably leukemia, but she is in the bone marrow transplant process with her sister as her donor. She and her mother were asking the provider where she could go to buy some more shoes. She doesn't live locally; they are only staying here so that she can be treated at Duke. Apparently shoes are a big deal to her, and she stores them in her closet in their original boxes. Now that it is cold here, she doesn't have the right shoes. The shoes she had on that day were very fancy, chic shoes with a high, narrow heel and pointy toes. The girl is into fashion, especially with her shoes. I couldn't actually see much of her because of the curtain separating our recliners (I wonder how she feels about Duke blue???) but I did notice that she had very full, long blonde-brown hair. That day I thought it was her real hair, but I've seen her since and realized that it is a wig. Many women with cancer wear wigs. And this girl who is into fashionable shoes probably doesn't even let her husband see her bald. It's fascinating to me what each one of us has to do to feel "normal" while going through cancer treatment. There is so little of it you can control. Again as Susan says, it's not on my time. But we control what we can and do what makes us feel better. I'm not into wigs, but it's obvious they are crucial to some women. I'm not saying the girl is more vain than I am either. I have my issues too-like the way this latest chemo has dried me out and added new wrinkles to my face. I am using lots more Oil of Olay than I ever did before. But I don't need a wig to feel people are seeing me the way I want them to. I did get pretty upset last time when my hair came in completely grey after the breast cancer treatment. But it gradually changed back to my original color, more or less. This time I don't care as much about my hair color. I'm over that one. I'm fixated on all these new wrinkles.

I'm meeting Holly for lunch, and I put on a little mascara to the few eyelashes I have. She'll be surprised.