For the first time in a week, I showered. Wash cloth baths were doing the trick, but they just don't feel good. This morning I got to stand in running water, and it was amazing. I couldn't wash my hair all week, leaving it a frizzy, fuzzy, matted mess. Now it is clean and styled. It took an extra shampoo to get it feeling clean, and I used a ton of deep conditioning mask to work out the dreadlock under the base of my skull. I can't tell whether it is from a week of neglect, or time and distance from chemo, but my curls seem looser today.
I swing wildly between feeling like I can conquer the world and wondering whether I'm backsliding. Neither are necessarily the whole truth, but I get fooled by the former more often than I ought. Leaves me at the mercy of the latter. I'm still eaten up by hives, so I went up to buy brand-name Benadryl, instead of the maybe-expired store brand I'd been using. One loop around Walmart and I barely made it back to the car. One Benadryl and I still itch. A day and a half back on antibiotics, and the surgical site is still a bit pink but maybe less puffy. I honestly have no idea how to track my progress. Is this right?
Kids came by today. They walked over to my neighborhood to feed a friend's cat, and stopped in to give grandparents some baby snuggles. It was rejuvenating for us, and it conked the baby out. She was sound asleep by the time they reached their driveway. I wish I could do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment