The treatments may have ended (February 18th to be exact) but the saga continues. I have settled into life on the drug Tamoxifin quite nicely. Other than the bi-hourly hot flash my mood has improved, my energy level is back and good news for my poor husband: my long lost libido has returned.
It has taken four months to grow back one inch of hair on the top of my head. Is it slower to grow when its grey? The very crown is thick like someone dumped an entire packet of carrot seeds in the one spot and now it will have to be thinned so that any single one can grow. Its headed the way of my father's 1965 brush cut. Now that there's a shadow of color, albeit the wrong one, atop my head, some of my girlfriends have tried to get me to leave the wig/ball cap/ kerchief/ doily off. That always prompts the challenge for them to sit with me in the lounge with their grey hair shining through. We all spend hundreds of dollars a year covering up the fact that we have grey and white roots, that we are aging. So why would anyone figure it would be OK to flash it all now? When I fully intend to get it dyed as soon as the medical world permits (my books say 6 months, but my step-mom was told 2 months so I'm going with her. Maybe I should keep asking and find someone that will say one month! ha). Believe-it-or-not, some men still think our foiled fake hair is real. Am I to be the one to disillusion them? To let them see that its impossible for a 51 year-old to actually have a full coloured head of hair? Sorry guys: the waist-line you could wrap your hands around until your fingers touched, the firm tight spots you loved in our twenties and the naturally blond-streaked hair had to be sacrificed for the joys of mother and grandmotherhood, for our finer age of clarity and wisdom. (...seeing clearly that the grey hair ages us, enough to put dangerous chemicals on our scalp every 6-8 weeks. Okay, so maybe not too wise? But its not like we don't know what we're doing. That would be different, right?)
This past week I have slept comfortably without a beanie on my noggin'. I still reach for a hat when at the ski hill and I have to run to the outhouse in the middle of the night. Not because someone might see me, but because it gets cold!
When people ask how I'm doing ( as their eyebrows furrow in like this is so serious and they wait for me to tell them something they probably do not want to hear) I respond with a cheerful "Great! The hardest part of my day is growing hair and that's coming along just fine, thank you." Their relief is almost palpable. I am starting a second drug to compliment the Tamoxifin on Thursday. I'll keep you posted on any growths of third arms, any signs of a cyclopian eye sprouting in the middle of my forehead or the like.
Side Note: I managed to find some hair dye at the health food store that is ammonia, resorcinol and paraben free. I'll let you know if it works!