I posted on FB that because my platelets and WBCs don't have that "Can Do" spirit, I won't be getting chemo this week.
This reminds me of being on death row, then getting a last-minute stay-of-execution from the governor. Sure, "Whee! No chemo!" but, dang, I premedicated with steroids, so now I'm in that semi-roid induced level of crankiness and restlessness. If it weren't only 1100, I'd be tempted to have a glass of wine so I could chill out.
When your treatment gets cancelled, it's not like it goes away forever; it's still out there, like a make-up day at school when there's a big snow.
I made the decision to call my stylist and buzz off the hair. I wrote about my deciduous hair last night. Well, this morning, more came out. Having your hair fall out in clumps here and there is like the death of 1,000 cuts. So, on Friday my lovely hairdresser "K" will be coming out to make me truly, "The Bald Nurse."
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