The meltdowns continue

Today hubby and I had a really great start to the perfect day. He was off work and we had planned to go into town, grab some lunch and do some shopping. Everything was going well until I decided to get my hair cut. I don't know what I was thinking other than if I'm going to have this breast surgery and I'm going to have to go through chemo and radiation, I don't want to deal with having my hair coming out in big clumps. So...I thought I'd be proactive.

We were in the downtown area of a city fairly close to our home but we weren't familiar with any of the shopping centers there. We had to do some scouting around for a hair salon. The first few we went to were closed on Sunday, but we weren't giving up just yet. My husband is so sweet! He always offers to go the extra mile especially when he knows it will make me happy. We continued on with the help of the GPS and found an upscale salon that was open. Surely they'd be able to take a "walk in" and make me look stunning.

I went into the salon with high hopes but as I approached the receptionist's desk, I felt a flood of emotions welling up inside me and no matter how hard I tried to keep the dam of tears from bursting, I couldn't keep it together. Like a blubbering idiot, I tried to explain to the receptionist that I needed a haircut. I'm sure she wondered what kind of nut job had walked into their salon and I'm so thankful there were no other clients there at the time. I managed to calm down a little and told her that I had just recently been diagnosed with Breast Cancer and I wanted to get my hair cut short before my surgery and treatments. She looked at the computer and told me they were completely booked up. Without groveling, I asked her if there was anyone who could just do a wet cut...just a pixie...I'd be glad to dry it myself at home. No deal. She apologized profusely and I asked if she knew anywhere else I could go.As we walked to the car, I had a major meltdown. Hubby did his best to console me and after about twenty minutes, I was able to recompose myself.

On we drove and finally we arrived back in our home town. We were sitting in the car in front of the salon the receptionist had referred us to, I was hesitant to go in for fear of another melt down. Hubby encouraged me and off we went. The wait was just a few minutes and the stylist was very pleasant and kind. After asking me what type of cut I wanted, I explained my situation to her. I was thankful there were no tears this time. She was very understanding and we began to talk about what Cancer feels like...she'd found three lumps in her breast earlier in the week. I encouraged her to go see her doctor immediately.

I watched as she cut my hair. She took her time to make sure everything was symmetrical and even. She never hurried and made sure to ask me all throughout the cut if it was what I wanted. Inches of hair fell from my head as she continued around to the back. Oh my...look at all the gray hair under there! I was watching my face in the mirror and wondering to myself...is this the face of Cancer? I looked at my best features, my eyes and my smile and wanted to scream NO! I am not the face of Cancer. I will not be the face of Cancer.

She finished up the hair cut and pulled out some styling wax...wow my hair was short! Gingerly, she moved the warm wax through my hair pulling out sections to make it piece-y and trendy. "Oh go ahead and wreck it up!" I said, "I'm going to do that when I get home anyway. Put a little funk into it!" She smiled and did as I asked. Handing me the mirror, she spun the chair around so I could peek at the back. It was cute, but super short. All I could think was at least there won't be much to fall out when it comes time for chemo.

I paid her and thanked her as we walked out of the shop. Running my fingers through my super short crop, I wondered if I'd made the right decision. I love, love, love long hair and now mine was less than 2 inches long. I asked my husband if I looked like a man. He smiled and said, "no! You're beautiful...always have been...always will be." I asked him if he just said that because he knew that's what I needed to hear and he assured me that he hadn't. I sure do love that man! I think we're going to make it through this and I think we're going to be okay.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

The reward of persistence

I'm a very determined person. When I set my mind on something, I do whatever it takes to accomplish it. Some people might even call that being "hard headed" or "stubborn" but any way you see it, that's just the way I am. Yesterday, my persistence paid off.

Since receiving my diagnosis of Cancer, I've been on the emotional ride of a lifetime. I've experienced the deep downward spiral of depression, the little hills of hope, and then I've sped through the twists and turns of all the confusion associated with upcoming surgeries, treatments, and doctor's appointments. It's been mind bending! My poor husband has held on tight for the ride as he's journeyed along with me these past few weeks."I need a break," I told him through tear filled eyes. "I need to be at the beach." He looked at me, through eyes of love, and said, "let's go."

Little did I know that one of my daughters had already been scouring the internet trying to help make my dream come true. She's spent hours trying to find the perfect spot for us, but trying to plan an impromptu vacation on a holiday weekend was not easy. Each condo she tried to reserve had already been booked. She tried so hard but soon became discouraged. She knows me very, very well and knew how desperately I wanted to go. She knew I needed to be at the beach. So after a valiant effort, she passed the trip planning on to me.To make a long story short, it took some doing but I was able to find a lovely B & B just off the beach. I called to make the reservation late last night. "You're lucky! It's our last room," the innkeeper said. "I'm not lucky, I'm blessed," I replied.

I can't describe how much being at the beach means to me. It's not about standing in the warm, wet sand and wiggling my toes. It's not about sitting for hours watching the repetitive motion of the waves as they rush in to shore. It's not about watching the sun rise or set. For me, it's just where I feel closest to God. Oh sure, I see Him in all the beauty of nature that the beach holds....the tiny Cocina shells, the flocks of sea gulls, even the salty sea breeze; but there's so much more to it than that. When I stand on the shore, I feel so very small and God is so very big. Even in those moments, I feel His heartbeat. I know He's with me. That is why I need to go to the beach. I need to be alone with God for a while.

In Matthew 11:28, there's a wonderful verse that says "Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." I'm going to the beach to find rest for my soul. I want to release all the fear and worry and dread associated with Cancer. I want to relinquish the control over my life to my Creator. And yes, I can do this any place, at any time, because I know that God is always with me...but for me, right now, I need to do it at the beach. I think God knows my heart better than anyone. He knows exactly what I need and I think, like the loving Father He is, that He's probably up there smiling down at me right now. Going to the beach isn't that big of a deal for some...in fact, they probably go once or twice a year like I always have in the past. But this trip, this time, is special. It's my time to rest my head in my Daddy's lap and cry. As He strokes my head and whispers reassurance to me, I'll find peace. As the waves crash against the shore and the sea breeze washes over me, I'll be freed from all that is weighing me down right now. And while I wish I could stay at the beach forever, I'll return home feeling empowered and lightened and loved.

So on Independence day, I'll head for the shore. After three days there, I'll return to have radioactive dye injected into my breasts and the following day, I'll have them removed along with several lymph nodes in my arm. As I lie on the operating table, before they put me under, I just know I'm going to hear the call of the shore birds echoing in my mind and then, I'll drift off to the smell of the salty sea air...after all, the beach is and always has been the very best medicine for me.

© Bonnie Annis all rights reserved