If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one there to hear it, does it still make sound?

If hair falls out in the shower and I can't hear it, does it still make me bald?

If hair falls out in the shower and why yes, that does make me bald, does that make it so I can't savor the sunrise?

Ummm, I don't think so. The sunrise is amazing, whether or not I have hair, whether or not I have chemo, whether or not I have cancer. The river is still as glossy, the laughter with friends works its chemistry, putting in a full day's work is no less meaningful, good books are just as enjoyable. It is just as awesome to put my body in motion walking or kayaking.

Okay, the tastebuds are temporarily shot, but all of life's other pleasures are there to be wallowed in.

Sunrise. Coming daily to a venue near you.

The most recent Chemo Week seemed to go better than the previous one. Don't know why. Lower fever and lower level of pain throughout. I didn't miss any days walking, although sometimes I didn't get very far or move very fast. Maybe that made a difference. Or maybe it was the continued use of Claratin, which is rumored online to ameliorate the pain from that pesky Neulasta shot. Or having Bjorn around full time, recuperating from his shoulder surgery, so that he could wait on me hand and foot. That always perks me right up.

Fatigue, now that's another story. It's almost narcoleptic.

I went back to work on Monday and all is well. Now I'm halfway through this chemotherapy process, and that much closer to living happily ever after.

An eventful two days. Bjorn's surgery was at 9 yesterday. It went well. Phil was there and got us home by noon. Bjorn's right arm is in a sling. At the post-op appointment today the doc said he would start physical therapy this week, and will be back at work in four to six weeks. Like me with my picc line, Bjorn has to keep his incision dry in the shower. I feel so much better that I'm not the only one wearing saran wrap and tape in the shower. In fact there are probably hundreds, yea verily thousands of people routinely taking the Press and Seal out of their bathroom cabinets on a daily basis.

Then I saw the oncologist at 4:15. Among other things he said "I have to check your heart and lungs" and I said "I still have them" and he didn't laugh. Well, I tried.

Bjorn's post op was at 8 AM today, and then I had to be at the chemo lab at 10:30. It turns out that Sue is really good friends with two of the four chemo nurses who were present today, so it was a big lovefest, and passed quickly.

So after an afternoon nap we went for an ambling beach walk and got in about two miles. Talk about the blind leading the blind. Or is it the bald leading the lame?

For a fraction of a moment this blog is going to be Not All About Me. Tomorrow Bjorn has shoulder surgery. Time to divert some of those positive vibes to him. His right arm will be in a sling for who knows how long.

Tuesday I have chemo. Wednesday I get that nasty shot that sets me up for a bad weekend. So both of us will be floppin' around the condo like a pair of blind kitties during the next week. Phil and Sue cut their vacation short to come back and look after us. Caregiver of the week props to both of them.

It was a normal healthy first week back at work with much celebration and moral support from my work family. And it has been another lovely normal healthy weekend with kayaking and friends and walking, and Bjorn got a last motorcycle ride in, AND got out on his stand-up paddle board. This whole cancer experience is teaching me to savor, seriously savor, the ordinary.

My current hair care product of choice: a lint roller. Lint roller on the pillow, lint roller on the clothes, sometimes I just cut to the chase and run the lint roller over the head.

The hair.

Lets face it, inquiring minds want to know, so here's the scoop.

According to the literature and every woman I have talked to, hair starts falling out between Day 10 and Day 14 post-chemo. Yes, 100 percent of the hair, 100 percent of the time. So Day 10 was Friday and I was watching like a hawk and yes, maybe a little more than usual came out in my brush, and more on Saturday and more on Sunday.

Monday morning I combed a small poodle out of my hair, put the remainder in a loose clip on top of my head for work. Tuesday I combed out a large collie, and put the remainder in the clip. The entire time it was not in the clip I could feel it raining onto my shoulders and arms and back like the touch of little butterfly wings. Wednesday, an Old English Sheepdog fell out in the shower. I called Bjorn in the morning and asked him to cut it when I got in from work. He looked at the hair in the clip last night and said he couldn't understand why I wanted to rush this. I said "Come into the bathroom with me", ran a wide tooth comb through one section of hair, just ONE section, and thirteen pounds of hair fell out.

So we had a champagne toast to my once and future hair, and cut it off. Its chopped, not shaved. No trauma, no drama, and I am actually relieved.

Over the weekend we took Kathy and Randy's tandem kayak to the Thousand Islands and paddled both days. Monday I went back to work and that has been very energizing. Lovely to feel so good and do such normal stuff.