Still experiencing extreme hair loss. Arrgh!
Hair began to rapidly shed around six or so months after 2014 health crisis. That December, prior to 2015, I abruptly shaved my head - completely bald.
It was almost comically showing up at my 4:45 am brightly lit dialysis center with absolutely no hair. The stunned look on everyone's faces... I should have gotten permission to YouTube the moment. Of course no one wants to be offensive or stare. Yet I welcomed any dialogue or inquisitive questions. There were a few compliments regarding how attractive I still looked with no hair. I didn't/don't care too much about physical aesthetics. I've drastically shaved my head like this before - 2000, after my first daughter's death. Grief was too overwhelming to keep my long, thick, healthy locks then. And now they are gone because of illness in body not in heart.
Being a licensed hairstylist makes this loss frustrating. During my tenure as a successful, self-employed hairstylist, I had a reputation of restoring or rejuvenating hair to a natural, luxurious beauty. As usual, the benefits of who I am as a person typically better serves others, which is the story of my life. I'm okay with this phenomenon.
My nephrologist prescribed vitamins for the hair loss. It stopped the rapidness of the shedding, even though my hair length now is under two inches, I can still feel the wiry shedding left in my hands occasionally when I shampoo. *Sometimes this makes me what to shave it all off again.
As a precautionary measure, I use coconut oil on my hair (and my body) immediately following shampooing or bathing. Dialysis patients tend to have regular issues with dry, chafed skin "probably" due to fluid restrictions and the overall nature of kidney disease.
Honestly, the health (sometimes the thickness & length) of my hair is one of the qualities of the loss of health I kinda miss most. Being a hair artist and a creative person, my hair use to give me something extra to do creatively. Like I tell my kids (whose hair I tend to transform in its natural state frequently), our hair is like "magic hair". People want to touch it because it is unique and amazing, a quality to adorn, to be proud of. So like me, their mommy, they see the gift in be different. I guess without my hair now, there are other things that make me stand out (aside from previous female baldness), even though I'm not trying. Usually, I'd rather just simply fit in. Seems easier that way.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
Good News! Test, labs came back normal. Thankful.
Had a precautionary D&C after some alarming post-menopausal bleeding. Last menstrual cycle December 2013. Initially sad, anguished at the seemingly abrupt finality of my cherished conception days (maternal. I longed to have more children. Enjoyed being pregnant/nursing & now rearing), nonetheless, I was slowly but surely becoming accustomed to life without pads or tampons. In my late forties and already dealing with situations commonly seen in the elderly -- usually I'm the youngest one in medical waiting rooms for the type of specialist I'm required to see. Following hospitalization(s), during doctor's appointments I was moving about slowly (with my husband's assistance) on my walker or being wheeled in on my wheelchair alongside the other aged patients. *Grateful those days of frustrating dependence are fewer and far between. So thankful to be gaining better mobility and longer lasting strength. *My kids were/are raised hearing me say, "whine & complain less & be thankful for the quality of your health more". Remembering back, once I became cognizant, the reality of my circumstances were troubling. Therapy. Dialysis. Renal Diet. Fluid Restriction. No more contact sports. Exhaustion from poor/non-functioning kidneys. Can't control or fix the situation. Have to rely on others. Disfigurements (AV fistula/Hemodialysis catheter). Aneurysm on my aorta (monitored). Medical cost & bills. Altered lifestyle. Test after test. Surgery after surgery. Pain, discomforts, anxiety/fears with each. Currently I'm un-phased by it all, majority of the time.
Had a precautionary D&C after some alarming post-menopausal bleeding. Last menstrual cycle December 2013. Initially sad, anguished at the seemingly abrupt finality of my cherished conception days (maternal. I longed to have more children. Enjoyed being pregnant/nursing & now rearing), nonetheless, I was slowly but surely becoming accustomed to life without pads or tampons. In my late forties and already dealing with situations commonly seen in the elderly -- usually I'm the youngest one in medical waiting rooms for the type of specialist I'm required to see. Following hospitalization(s), during doctor's appointments I was moving about slowly (with my husband's assistance) on my walker or being wheeled in on my wheelchair alongside the other aged patients. *Grateful those days of frustrating dependence are fewer and far between. So thankful to be gaining better mobility and longer lasting strength. *My kids were/are raised hearing me say, "whine & complain less & be thankful for the quality of your health more". Remembering back, once I became cognizant, the reality of my circumstances were troubling. Therapy. Dialysis. Renal Diet. Fluid Restriction. No more contact sports. Exhaustion from poor/non-functioning kidneys. Can't control or fix the situation. Have to rely on others. Disfigurements (AV fistula/Hemodialysis catheter). Aneurysm on my aorta (monitored). Medical cost & bills. Altered lifestyle. Test after test. Surgery after surgery. Pain, discomforts, anxiety/fears with each. Currently I'm un-phased by it all, majority of the time.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
I use my son's old baby food jar (from the late 90's; yes, I still have them) to monitor my liquids. Fearful to go over limit, I drink only to take medications now. Hold back from water fountain at the gym. Slowly suck on water iced cubs (limit four) throughout the day.
When out, I take sips from my husband's beverage. Or I plan ahead by not having any other liquids for the day. This is an experiment. I just hope this possibly ridiculously rigorous idea works.
It's the end of the weekend. I'm hot. I'm uncomfortable. I'm thirsty. Too afraid, too cautious to consume any more liquids. *Need to invest in a home scale to better monitor any fluid gain.
Hubby and I were fortunate enough to finally be able to go on a spontaneous date night. Thankfully our eighteen year old son is home to supervise our eleven year old daughter.
Went to Black Angus for dinner. I had rib eye steak and salad. Ate half and boxed the rest. Sipped on my husbands Arnold Palmer, divulged in the pleasure of a swallow or two of an adult fruity beverage; and didn't drink any of my requested water w/ lemon.
Regardless of my mindful regulations, I'm still panicked to drink anything today (even these two ice cubes) as my regular weekly (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) resumes tomorrow. I don't want to risk showing up too heavy after the required before/after dialysis weighing.
After dinner we went to a movie, saw The Gift, staring Jason Bateman (quality actor to watch on screen) and Rebecca Hall (cute haircut I was fantasizing throughout about - wondering how would it look on certain people). *There was this female adjacent to me with one of those huge, cold, pricey movie drinks (I could hear the clashing of the ice) which I secretly craved. Being a frugal person, the enormous cost prevented me from asking my husband for one. Cost, size disciplined me for sure.
The Gift reminds me of the psychological and physical power a bully or mean spirited person has over their target/victim. The long lasting damage negative actions does on the victim. The journey of both parties being [wounded people] through denial, remorse, anger vengeance, forgiveness.
Once the movie was over, I noticed the longer lines, the diverse crowds, police presence over the movie, Straight Outta Compton (starting at 11:15pm). Of course this energy provoked more curiosity in me, so I asked my husband if it was okay if we stayed later to experience it.
We joined the line of mostly young people. While there, I stood nerdily awkward, [holding the yellow basket I keep all my fun activities and necessities in; wearing my peacock blue knitted triangle shawl around my shoulders] knitting a burgundy Ascot hat in the round to pass the time.
This movie was probably better than most expected. I enjoyed the quality of the actors {a former inspiring thespian myself}, the pacing of the film and the throwback beats - old-school rap, favorite. Being a native of Compton myself, a peer (age wise) of the characters depicted in film, growing up in the era of the infancy of such sounds, I could remember most of the locations and situations depicted.
It was so cool having modern times gadgets while in a movie theater. Not only did I have in my basket a yarn project, I had my tablet (Samsung) and my cellular ( Iphone). During our date, I periodically texted my son inquiring how everything was going. My daughter has a very strong, determined personality; while my son, more laid back and chill, yet assertive.
I felt young, rejuvenated arriving home in the 2 a.m. darkness & stillness of the night. Certainly we must cease every opportunity with our son being home to supervise (aside from once or twice, we have never allowed [risked] anyone to watch our kids, not even relatives). This way they'll have their time, being close despite age difference. And we'll have some much needed and earned adult time.
Hubby and I were fortunate enough to finally be able to go on a spontaneous date night. Thankfully our eighteen year old son is home to supervise our eleven year old daughter.
Went to Black Angus for dinner. I had rib eye steak and salad. Ate half and boxed the rest. Sipped on my husbands Arnold Palmer, divulged in the pleasure of a swallow or two of an adult fruity beverage; and didn't drink any of my requested water w/ lemon.
Regardless of my mindful regulations, I'm still panicked to drink anything today (even these two ice cubes) as my regular weekly (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) resumes tomorrow. I don't want to risk showing up too heavy after the required before/after dialysis weighing.
After dinner we went to a movie, saw The Gift, staring Jason Bateman (quality actor to watch on screen) and Rebecca Hall (cute haircut I was fantasizing throughout about - wondering how would it look on certain people). *There was this female adjacent to me with one of those huge, cold, pricey movie drinks (I could hear the clashing of the ice) which I secretly craved. Being a frugal person, the enormous cost prevented me from asking my husband for one. Cost, size disciplined me for sure.
The Gift reminds me of the psychological and physical power a bully or mean spirited person has over their target/victim. The long lasting damage negative actions does on the victim. The journey of both parties being [wounded people] through denial, remorse, anger vengeance, forgiveness.
Once the movie was over, I noticed the longer lines, the diverse crowds, police presence over the movie, Straight Outta Compton (starting at 11:15pm). Of course this energy provoked more curiosity in me, so I asked my husband if it was okay if we stayed later to experience it.
We joined the line of mostly young people. While there, I stood nerdily awkward, [holding the yellow basket I keep all my fun activities and necessities in; wearing my peacock blue knitted triangle shawl around my shoulders] knitting a burgundy Ascot hat in the round to pass the time.
This movie was probably better than most expected. I enjoyed the quality of the actors {a former inspiring thespian myself}, the pacing of the film and the throwback beats - old-school rap, favorite. Being a native of Compton myself, a peer (age wise) of the characters depicted in film, growing up in the era of the infancy of such sounds, I could remember most of the locations and situations depicted.
It was so cool having modern times gadgets while in a movie theater. Not only did I have in my basket a yarn project, I had my tablet (Samsung) and my cellular ( Iphone). During our date, I periodically texted my son inquiring how everything was going. My daughter has a very strong, determined personality; while my son, more laid back and chill, yet assertive.
I felt young, rejuvenated arriving home in the 2 a.m. darkness & stillness of the night. Certainly we must cease every opportunity with our son being home to supervise (aside from once or twice, we have never allowed [risked] anyone to watch our kids, not even relatives). This way they'll have their time, being close despite age difference. And we'll have some much needed and earned adult time.
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Time races while at one of my frequented yarn socials. Ladies from various ages and backgrounds (including my crocheting husband and knitting/crocheting daughter) get together and just create things for themselves, their family & friends, for their preferred charities.
At the onset of the health crisis, I forgot how to do many things - knit/crochet to name a couple. With great determination I have managed to regain the skill I lost coupled with minor improvements.
My son is a proficient knitter and crocheter as well. For years I have suggested that he start a yarn social on his college campus. He said he'll consider it down the line once he has less commitments.
My daughter recently started a yarn social of her own. Yarn-Crafty Youngsters (website coming soon/email: ycraftyyoungsters@gmail.com) it's called. Once she accumulates enough young participants - boys & girls ages 10 and up, she'll have her first gathering - exclusively for youth (parent or guardian must be present). It won't be a class but I hope some will instinctively teach many. All will bring their own yarn & tools, along with a positive, peaceful & productive attitude.
I also had the idea to create warm charitable items for dialysis patients such as: fistula sleeves, cowls, socks and lap covers. Once I work out the logistics, we'll be up and running.
Proudly I've completed a few average sized items within the past few months - about three shawls, a bold orange colored poncho, and cell phone cases. Cleverly, I've managed to knit/crochet/loom while on dialysis. I was told from some this would be impossible. Persistent, I inquired further, along with Internet research. And from my findings, became more brazen in my approach to figuring out a way to do the I was told, impossible.
While hooked up to my dialysis chair, I dabble in a multitude of things ~ I sleep (my dialysis time starts at 4:45 am), I talk to my husband (who except for a few occasions has been right there by my side for the whole three hour treatments), I read (library books, magazines, news from my phone or tablet), I draw and color (I love pencils, pens, crayons, markers; coloring books), I play games (on my table or with my husband. Lately I have been learning how to play chess -- plan to surprise my skilled chess playing daughter, who has wanted to teach me for years),
I blog (ideas/topics come up often and when they do, immediately I HAVE to purge into written word), I eat (working out has me famished sometimes. This hunger carries on until the next day, so I eat), I listen to music (my music interest are varied in taste. I mostly love classical, funk, classic rock, 70's/80's R&B, jazz, psychedelic rock & swing). I people watch (I wonder what is everyone story. I get inspired or discouraged by what I see. I don't want to look or act sick), I knit/crochet (big, broad, colorful items to bring life to such a depressing place). These are all the things I can think of off the top of my head. Sometimes I do nothing, yet have lugged an assortment of items to my chair, to my husband's disdain. I make the best of my time by keeping myself entertained from start to finish. Three hours usually goes by pretty fast.
Hopefully by the time I'm fortunate a new kidney, I'll be bi or multilingual. I love to meet and socialize with all kinds of people. Shy now but painfully shy throughout childhood, my curious and gregarious nature immerses into the courage to approach absolutely anyone. I'm more bold and unfiltered since the stroke though. Oftentimes I get frustrated with myself when I can't speak or understand due to language barriers/comprehension issues resulting from stroke (frontal lobe). Nonetheless, joyously I make friends everywhere I go.
At the onset of the health crisis, I forgot how to do many things - knit/crochet to name a couple. With great determination I have managed to regain the skill I lost coupled with minor improvements.
My son is a proficient knitter and crocheter as well. For years I have suggested that he start a yarn social on his college campus. He said he'll consider it down the line once he has less commitments.
My daughter recently started a yarn social of her own. Yarn-Crafty Youngsters (website coming soon/email: ycraftyyoungsters@gmail.com) it's called. Once she accumulates enough young participants - boys & girls ages 10 and up, she'll have her first gathering - exclusively for youth (parent or guardian must be present). It won't be a class but I hope some will instinctively teach many. All will bring their own yarn & tools, along with a positive, peaceful & productive attitude.
I also had the idea to create warm charitable items for dialysis patients such as: fistula sleeves, cowls, socks and lap covers. Once I work out the logistics, we'll be up and running.
Proudly I've completed a few average sized items within the past few months - about three shawls, a bold orange colored poncho, and cell phone cases. Cleverly, I've managed to knit/crochet/loom while on dialysis. I was told from some this would be impossible. Persistent, I inquired further, along with Internet research. And from my findings, became more brazen in my approach to figuring out a way to do the I was told, impossible.
While hooked up to my dialysis chair, I dabble in a multitude of things ~ I sleep (my dialysis time starts at 4:45 am), I talk to my husband (who except for a few occasions has been right there by my side for the whole three hour treatments), I read (library books, magazines, news from my phone or tablet), I draw and color (I love pencils, pens, crayons, markers; coloring books), I play games (on my table or with my husband. Lately I have been learning how to play chess -- plan to surprise my skilled chess playing daughter, who has wanted to teach me for years),
I blog (ideas/topics come up often and when they do, immediately I HAVE to purge into written word), I eat (working out has me famished sometimes. This hunger carries on until the next day, so I eat), I listen to music (my music interest are varied in taste. I mostly love classical, funk, classic rock, 70's/80's R&B, jazz, psychedelic rock & swing). I people watch (I wonder what is everyone story. I get inspired or discouraged by what I see. I don't want to look or act sick), I knit/crochet (big, broad, colorful items to bring life to such a depressing place). These are all the things I can think of off the top of my head. Sometimes I do nothing, yet have lugged an assortment of items to my chair, to my husband's disdain. I make the best of my time by keeping myself entertained from start to finish. Three hours usually goes by pretty fast.
Hopefully by the time I'm fortunate a new kidney, I'll be bi or multilingual. I love to meet and socialize with all kinds of people. Shy now but painfully shy throughout childhood, my curious and gregarious nature immerses into the courage to approach absolutely anyone. I'm more bold and unfiltered since the stroke though. Oftentimes I get frustrated with myself when I can't speak or understand due to language barriers/comprehension issues resulting from stroke (frontal lobe). Nonetheless, joyously I make friends everywhere I go.
Uh oh! My son has met someone of interest - a female. Thankfully he felt safe to share small details about this girl with his dad and I. So much about who he is reflects how we consciously raised him.
He tells me that I'm behaving like I'm jealous (of the girl I haven't met yet). My questions, my demeanor. I don't know now. Maybe he is right, being the perceptive guy he is (much like his mom).
What a young man. A man! is what me, his mommy must remember. I noticed on this stay home (from college) he is a bit more distant. Naturally distancing himself even more from the nest, from mommies bosom (figuratively) with each visit.
I think I'm having the hardest time with this natural progression. While my husband is his usual calm and mellow self, I'm scared. Of what? I don't know. I just want to keep mothering and cuddling and doting on him. I don't want some other woman to take my hard "earned" place in his heart or in his brilliant mind. I want to stay #1 and when "she" or whomever comes around, I want them to know his mom's place in his life. {pout}
I know. I sound (and feel) immature and possessive. No worries, my husband will know this exact feeling when our daughter finds her "him". Mind you, she already does what she wants.
Seems like yesterday we brought our son home for the first time. "Eighteen years ago". Wow, time flies and this is why, I'm so glad we made the child rearing choices we did.
He tells me that I'm behaving like I'm jealous (of the girl I haven't met yet). My questions, my demeanor. I don't know now. Maybe he is right, being the perceptive guy he is (much like his mom).
What a young man. A man! is what me, his mommy must remember. I noticed on this stay home (from college) he is a bit more distant. Naturally distancing himself even more from the nest, from mommies bosom (figuratively) with each visit.
I think I'm having the hardest time with this natural progression. While my husband is his usual calm and mellow self, I'm scared. Of what? I don't know. I just want to keep mothering and cuddling and doting on him. I don't want some other woman to take my hard "earned" place in his heart or in his brilliant mind. I want to stay #1 and when "she" or whomever comes around, I want them to know his mom's place in his life. {pout}
I know. I sound (and feel) immature and possessive. No worries, my husband will know this exact feeling when our daughter finds her "him". Mind you, she already does what she wants.
Seems like yesterday we brought our son home for the first time. "Eighteen years ago". Wow, time flies and this is why, I'm so glad we made the child rearing choices we did.
Eyes stay puffy and tired looking. Skin - dry. Hair - wiry. Unsightly scars from surgeries and procedures; unstable walk, choppy cadence. [Challenged memory & comprehension] .... I've never been prudish or sensitive about my looks, but who I am externally and internally has drastically changed so much, even I don't immediately recognize myself.
... loose and flabby skin from lengthy hospitalizations. Weakened body from inactivity and damaged kidney. Though grateful for my life, I detest the physical changes that I could not control.
Wouldn't it be great if one can have the wisdom gained from life experience while simultaneously maintaining the body and face of one's youth? Being a former fitness instructor & beauty pageant contestant, I can't help but miss the advantages of being and looking extremely fit.
Rather than complain, I'll do what I can to make the improvements necessary for my insides and outsides. What's important is that I'm consciously aware of the transformations needed.
... loose and flabby skin from lengthy hospitalizations. Weakened body from inactivity and damaged kidney. Though grateful for my life, I detest the physical changes that I could not control.
Wouldn't it be great if one can have the wisdom gained from life experience while simultaneously maintaining the body and face of one's youth? Being a former fitness instructor & beauty pageant contestant, I can't help but miss the advantages of being and looking extremely fit.
Rather than complain, I'll do what I can to make the improvements necessary for my insides and outsides. What's important is that I'm consciously aware of the transformations needed.
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