Under All That Hair....

Dear All,

I have settled back into my quiet daily routine of home. Mornings spent "trying to get things accomplished", afternoons spent resting and "being". The days do blend into one, as I seek my own rhythm while out of step with "normal life". James provides me with innumerable highlights, and helps me beat the drum that pushes me steadily forward. Julian checks in by phone from his office a hundred times a day with words of wisdom, humour, love and chatter. My father begins my mornings with a boosting pep talk. And Mummy is my comfort and companion and comrade, always by my side.

While in hospital, I had too much time to "think", and I actively sought distraction to keep me focused outside of the box of being sick. Now that I am home, I am still struggling not to think too much... next week's scans and their results keep creeping into my mind, and with that I ride the rollercoaster of positive images and negative outcomes. I am anxious and emotional, despite my underlying conviction that I am in fact healing, that I am getting better. I do believe it. But the fear is there nonetheless, mixed in with so much hope. Focus, I tell myself, focus. Focus on why you are fighting, focus on how well you are fighting, focus on all the tomorrows you have to look forward to. It can just be exhausting, you know, to never let up?

So, in that brain of mine, I feel like I sometimes fight some of the toughest part of the battle. And since being the bald eagle that I am, I feel like my thoughts and emotions have become more transparent - they are so intense and so vivid at times that surely you can see right into my head. In that vein, and on a lighter note, I attach a picture of my wearing my wig - you have been graced by my cue ball look and by my head scarf, so here's yet another version of "me". As I walk down the street, if only people knew the battle of thoughts and feelings going on under all that hair...!

Hugs to all, as always.