All of the people who work in Allegiance Oncology and Hematology are pretty impressive.  They remember your name.  They stop to visit with you when you pass them on your way to your various appointments within the very large interior of the office.  They tell you that you look pretty.  They ask how you're doing.  And I'm not just referring to the doctors, but the nurse practitioner, the check- in clerk, the schedulers, the oncology nurses, and the technicians who perform the daily blood draws and pressure checks...Hortensia wasn't even scheduled to see me on Wednesday when I went to get my Neulasta shot, but came out to find me and say hello.  Everyone.  It's a pretty sucky place to have to be, but they sure have figured out a way to make it ok to be there.  And I appreciate it.

But probably the most special person that I saw this week, had to be the pharmacy technician who brought my chemo to my nurse, Tracy.  Her name is Jamie Spry, and she is a former NW Alternative HS student of mine, (shout out!) who I was very close to when she was my student- graduated, I believe, in 1999.  They make a huge deal about getting your chemo drugs...it is triple checked, and I always have to give my name and birth date before each infusion.  This week Jamie told me she "mixed my drugs for me herself, with love."  Then she went on to tell me how much I andeveryone else at my school pushed her to become something, and without our school, she didn't know how she would have turned out.  It was, of course, very humbling to be in that chair, and hear such wonderful things from someone who is having a part in probably saving my life.  She's worked at Allegiance for 10 years, and recently bought her own house.  I'm so proud of her.  Hope we can feature her in our Mountie newsletter as a former NWA alumni.

I've been thinking about my tattoo, the one I want to get when I'm finally finished with this journey...my NP, Ann Winters, has a cute little anchor tattooed on her wrist.  I've looked at it several times, and finally got up the courage to ask her about its significance...she said there is a Hebrew verse about the "anchor of hope," and where she works, it's all about the hope... I get it.  You have to have hope, just walking in those doors.  Every time I walk in, my mindset is hope.  I hope to kill my cancer, every last cell of it, with these terrible, but wonderful, treatments.  I hope my surgeon is able to get it all, and I won't end up on an episode of " Botched," that great tv show where you are just happy to be you and not them.  I hope the cancer hasn't spread...my bone scan results showed it has NOT spread to my bones...big sigh of relief.  I hope my hair grows back.  I hope to have less symptoms this round than the last...so far, so good, but knock on some wood with me, will you?  I hope I am able to keep up my positivity and not let negativity enter into my life.  If I cut you off because you're telling me a story about someone you know who "lost their battle, " or about someone's terrible cancer story,  please don't be offended...just know, I'm doing what I have to do to stay in my own little positive-only frame of mind.  I know there are many people who don't make it, and I do have sympathy and care...I just can't hear about them right now.  I need to hear about the survivors, the ones who are still going...and I will take all the positive comments I can get.

Many thanks this week...cards in the mail, a special delivery from Tracy with organic veggies from her garden (yum!), more food from my mom, lunch and self tanner from my friend Sheri...a special visit from my friend Lisa...and today, flowers on my doorstep...it's all so appreciated.  I've had so many Facebook friend requests...I think the word is spreading about my cancer, and people want to be connected.  I've gotten so many wonderful hair and wig comments...it's a pretty brutal place to be, putting yourself out there like that,  pictures of myself with a buzz cut and a long-haired wig....but I'd rather be upfront than have people guessing, or worse, making fun of me for wearing a wig.  Yes, I am.  And I wore it all day, and it got kind of hot, and snug...and it felt good to take it off at the end of the night...but honestly, the hair had to go.  Every shower was a huge, triple handful loss.  Combing it, brushing it...loss, loss.  The finale had to be, after my two days of short hair, when I picked up a section to " tease" a little bit, and it all just came out.  There were bald spots my hair couldn't cover.  And I knew it was time.  I was about to get in the shower this morning, and couldn't face any more loss...it wasjust too stressful.  So I took a pair of scissors...and cut off all of my hair.  It was a relief, of sorts...to not have to deal with the loss of chunks from the scalp...and my scalp is sore, and tingly where it's coming out...But overall, I think this will be better.  Anything has to be better than having huge globs of hair in your hand...and it was probably a cooking disaster, too.  No one shedding like I was should have been anywhere in the kitchen!  No worries now...my biggest worry, I'm told, is to stand aside when opening the oven door...because your wig can get scorched!  Now how funny is that?