Today marks 3 months a 1 week since chemo... and I totally have the hair to prove it! Not to mention, 8 weeks and 3 days post-op. In honor of those really random milestones, I'm going to share with you something none of the cancer books out there will tell you. And that's that somewhere along this wild and wacky cancer journey, you find yourself at Target making purchases like this...
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| Your eyes do not deceive you. Exhibit A is the grown-up version of a training bra. And Exhibit B? Oh yes, those are in fact, fake toenails. |
Pourquoi? you ask. Tissues expanders render bras effectively useless and unnecessary. I've heard from several ladies who, while
under construction, abandoned the garment altogether. Their bras had become the appendix of their wardrobe. But despite the fact that I evicted my appendix (
is anything else going to try to kill me this year?), the bra habit is a hard one to break. So is it too much to ask for one without ridiculous wiring or padding, that doesn't look like it belongs on a tween-aged girl or nursing home patient? Where's that in the Victoria Secret catalog?
Fortunately something that isn't difficult to find is fake toenails.
Now there's a sentence I never expected to write. For any of this to make any sense, we have to go
way back to my post from
October 10th where I wrote about some weird bruising under the nail of my left big toe. Long-ish story short, the nail took the last 2 months gradually lifting and finally fell off. I have my good friend taxotere to thank for that. So now I've got a yicky looking nub of a nail left. But instead of leaving you with a picture of that (
ain't nobody got time for that), you get this one...
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| Me and Mom with Monica in DC. Remember all that post-chemo hair I metioned? That isn't it. That is vintage mink. |
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