New week

Ah… excellent summer weather continues today.  Warm, not humid, not too hot, bit of a breeze, and I think that I may have got a little sun-kissed while I was outside on the balcony this morning.  The sun felt good for the few minutes that I was there — I try to limit my sun exposure because of my medications and the chance of burning easily.  Jerry was quite noisy as my nurse and support worker were both here, and he let me know that there were people in his house.  We discovered that if we’re talking about him being naughty, he tends to look away, then looks at me as if to say, “Why are you telling such stories?”  Don was doing a few things today in the garage again, and has tired himself out from all the walking he did.  He says that the car just seems to move further each time he goes to the (assigned) parking spot.

So I’ve discovered an unpleasant side effect to my chemo pills.  The little paper that accompanies the bottle lists about 100 possible side effects, and I think I’ve gone through all the “most common” ones.  It lists “temporary change in hair colour/texture” may occur, and I’ve noticed that my hair is growing in grey, where it was mostly black before, and the curls have mostly disappeared.  I said that I look like one of those old women who do home hair dyes and have their roots white while the top is coal black.  My eyebrows are also growing white, and aren’t as visible as they were.  I can cope, there is makeup, and if my hair comes in like my parents, it’ll be a lovely silver, which I can handle.  But yesterday I discovered that I have *gasp* a bald spot!!!  My hair on top is long enough that by careful combing it’s not obvious but it’s THERE!!  In some ways, I don’t care; I’ve been bald 3 times in the last 5 years, so it’s not a new situation, but in others… there’s a bald patch!!  In MY hair!!  I see that I’ll have to dig out hats, scarves and wigs again, because… no.  Just no.  Everyone lies regularly and says how I look good bald, but I hate that look, so it’s not going to happen.  Excuse me while I have a minor meltdown and my vanity takes yet another beating!!  

Yesterday’s sermon at Mass was one of those that I found particularly meaningful.  It spoke of fear and faith, and that fear drives out faith.  It was the story of Jesus walking on water, where Peter says, “If it’s you, tell me to come to you,” starts walking on the water, then sees the waves and feels the storm and is terrified and begins to sink.  I spent some time thinking about this yesterday and again today; one of the main messages that I took away was that we cannot use fear to create believers.  Trying to force belief in people just leads to lip service, not any real conversion.  I also think that faith and doubt are intertwined; you can’t have one without the other.  But fear and faith are different; you can overcome your fear through faith, or allow the fear to destroy your faith.  They can’t coexist.  

That being said, I think that this was meaningful because for me, I rely on my faith to deal with my many, deep seated fears.  I can’t tell you how often I say, “Lord save me!” Just to be able to cope a little more with the terrors that converge in my mind.  I’ve shared some of my down moments before; I’m not in that state now, thankfully, but I wanted to share that I’m continuing to learn that I don’t control everything in my life, and there are days and times where only prayer sustains me.

Right now, though, I’m working patiently on this dress — I said today that I’m wondering about this wool; it’s supposed to change colours as I work through it, but it’s still on the first shade and seems that it’s not about to make a transition anytime soon, and I’m beginning to think that instead of a spectrum of pink it’s going to be all one colour!!  We’ll see how that continues as I work on the skirt.  I’m going to find something to eat before the boys move on the sofa… Good night!