Tomorrow I see the medical oncologist again, by which time he'll have the results from the genetic test on the tumor. In two-thirds of cases, chemotherapy is contra-indicated. If I turn out to be in the other one-third, I plan to document every instance of vomit and every strand of hair that leaps from my head, and also to whine at great length, on a daily basis, on this blog, which may not be quite as interesting as my generally fascinating life. But even I have an outer limit to my stiff-upper-lippedness.
Meanwhile, I've been doing lots of fun breast-cancery things. Took a cancer beading class. Had a cancer reiki session. Had a cancer "Look good; feel better" class. Went to several cancer psychiatry visits, where I usually end up crying about my father's death in February. Did the cancer yoga class. There was a cancer journaling class at a downtown hospital today, which I'm sure is a great event for some folks, but I'm not one of them. I need to get OUT of my head, not sink more deeply into it.
The make-up event was sponsored by the American Cancer Society, the National Cosmetology Association, and the Personal Care Products Council Foundation. ["Look Good ... Feel Better is a public service program for cancer patients, helping them to cope with the appearance related side-effects of treatment." Pass the word.) A licensed cosmetologist instructed, demonstrated, and generally kept us on track,.
It was like going trick-or-treating and bringing home a huge sack of make-up. The person leading it decided I have light skin, which is how I got the Bobbi Brown, MAC, American Beauty, and FLIRT products. People thought to have darker skin got instead a big-ass make-up set from YSL: eye shadow, blush, etc. all in one place. Obviously this is a splendid marketing tool for companies -- I haven't touched an Avon product in 30 years and had never used American Beauty or FLIRT! -- but it's also spiffy for people who tired of looking at their own dreary faces in the mirror.
So there you go: another fringe benefit of cancer.