I am getting a hair cut tomorrow after I drop Jackson at school. I haven't been to the salon in about 8 weeks and I am desperate for some help shaping, taming and figuring out WTF to do with the hair on my head. I hesitate to call it my hair. That implies choice and ownership which I don't care to claim. This is not my hair. My hair fell to the kitchen floor under my best friend's clippers just over a year ago. This hair on my head is alien and I haven't the slightest idea how to treat it, style it or learn to accept and (gasp) like it. Hopefully tomorrow Maria will have more hints and help and I will probably buy some styling products that she suggests. The stuff I have is kinda heavy and often looks greasy when I put too much in to try to tame the fluff. Sigh. Some day I may look in the mirror and not feel the bitter loss of my hair, or more importantly, my say in it. But that isn't today. Not yet.
Jackson has begun kicking toys out of his room at night. If something looks scary to him after he gets in his bed, he gets up scoots it out to the hall and closes the door behind it. So when I go to bed at night, there is a small line-up in the hall of all the things that spooked him that night. Tonight, his Mater truck is banished. We shall see if anything else joins Mater in the line-up. Last night was the dump truck. He is funny. He is taking control of his environment. Atta boy!
I have become such a lazy blogger. It isn't that I haven't had things to write about, but more than many of them are complicated and sometimes when much is going on, I blog less. And then I get behind and the challenge of updating the blog with everything becomes daunting, so I blog even less.
One thing to update on is my health. Which is fine. But I have been having a little shortness of breath. My oncologist thinks it is residual lung damage and not a recurrence of lymphoma. My blood work and physical exams in late August show no evidence of cancer and my scans have always shown crap in my right lung. So on an Ozone Action Day last week or so, I was having a hard time breathing. Just having to take deep breaths to feel like I was getting enough oxygen. It subsided in a day or two and I am fine now. But it seems I may have problems with my lungs occasionally. Ok. I guess I can deal with that. I have another PET/CT scan in a couple of weeks, so that should alleviate all fears that the cancer is back. Cause it isn't. So there. And I got them to go ahead and schedule both scans at the same time instead of two separate visits. Doing them separate the last couple of times really sucked and I will be happy not to have to drink all the extra barium.
1 comment:
I still think that the 12 or so cats that hangout in your house overnight, chillin' with Sam and Sarah, may also have something to do with the breathing thing. :)
That Jackson is a smart one!
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