The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

You just know it's going to be a fun day when your nurse, inserting the IV in your arm, says "Oops, we got a little bloodbath here."

Currently, I am at my second chemo treatment. The aforementioned nurse, adorable and perky, is actually quite competent and very funny (one of my diva requirements for treatment). After I laughed and noted, "Gee, that's what every patient likes to hear, she went on to say, "Yeah, that and words like 'massacre' and 'we've got a bleeder here'." Not to worry, I clean up nicely and we continued on. I did warn her about my tendency to get mushy about my nurses when the Benadryl kicks in - she called the doctor and got my dosage halved (only sort of kidding there - I had asked for a lower dose when I saw my doctor on Monday. No one needs THAT much of a good time at chemo). All in all, we are progressing and by 4:00 pm or so I should be well on my way to fatigue and depression - yay!

This (see picture) I call "Transition Hair," a sort of way station between my real hair and the wig I now sport. Yeah, I know I look a little scary (Warren kept making me laugh) - but it worked well for a few days (no piles of hair all over the place) until I could pick up my wig yesterday. But that's a "teaser" for the next post, a sort of cliffhanger although instead of "Who Shot J.R.?" or "Will House and Cuddy ever get together?" it's "What does DonnaLee look like in her new 'do?" I will say this: Cost for new wig - $700. Cost to style new wig - $50. Cost for hair products for new wig - $35. Seeing Taryn's glowing smile and hearing her excitedly exclaim, "You're so pretty Mommy!" - priceless. She made me feel like...well, the title says it all.

There was a great My Turn essay in Newsweek this week called "The Picture of Health" by Kim Lute. In it, she describes 13+ years of illnesses and procedures, hospitals and ambulances, transplants and maintenance drugs, all to stay alive with the various and sundry diseases she has been diagnosed with. She argues that although she is conventionally described as "unhealthy," her circumstances really reflect the life of a healthy person and that perhaps health needs to be redefined. While doctors see her "relative to a set of finite radiology or pathology reports," while neighbors see her as "wan" and fragile, she sees herself thus: "I see a body that heals quickly after trauma, one that mercifully forgets the pain of biopsies, surgeries and colonoscopies, one that remembers its strengths." She finishes with a wonderful observation that really spoke to me: "I understand that many will not see me as healthy, that they'll continue to punctuate every inquiry with condolences. I'm not even sure how best to redefine the concept of what is and isn't healthy, but I hope any such definition will underscore that the presence of illness isn't nearly as important as one's ability to overcome it." I couldn't have said it better!

Still fighting the good fight - blessings and love to all.