Back Among the Living

Sometime early evening on Tuesday, I came back to myself. The pieces re-collected and my perspective became familiar again. My cystitis had not resolved, but it was clear it was moving in that direction rapidly. I had successfully implemented a strategy of drinking the required liquid but stopping by 6 PM which made my night meaningfully less interrupted.

With a good night sleep and a feeling of centeredness, today felt strong and fun. Many of us spent the day on the roof deck enjoying each other’s company, playing games, reading books, soaking up the sun. It was only the second day I felt strong enough to do physical therapy exercises to stretch out my body that had been so contracted for the last days. It was a surreal limbo day when our bodies had recovered from the first onslaught and we had not yet started in on the next.

As I have mentioned before, we are broken into two groups and group 1 leaves the clinic tomorrow morning for the hospital to have their ports put in for stem cell removal and replacement. Our group goes Friday. The stem cell harvest happens the day after port placement.

Since this was the last night we would all be together before port insertion, we decided to have a shave-your-head party on the roof deck for support and celebration. This is a common tradition at the clinic. 

I have shaved my head before and don’t feel emotional about it. Hair grows back. But that wasn’t true for others. The first woman to go cried as her husband cut her hair with all of us telling her how beautiful she is. He then sat in the chair and she shaved his head and beard. They Facebook livestreamed the whole thing to their friends and family back home.

I went next and my mom cut my hair. It was quick and fun to see blue hair flying around in the wind. The third woman to go did it via video to her husband and son at home. She was the only one who had not cut her hair shorter before coming here.

Finally, the last one to go was the only man participating. He had to shave both his head and his beard. His wife did the honor and it was emotional for her in a pretty significant way, not because of the hair loss, but because of what it represents with what’s to come next in our treatment and also everything that is embodied with what we are undertaking; the hopes, the dreams, the crossed fingers.

Two of the men going through treatment are already bald so they hung out with us supportively and said it’s not so bad, look how handsome we are.

After that, we had our evening shots (as close as we come to a cocktail hour), mom and I headed to dinner, then settled in for another solid night of sleep.