Losin' the Locks, Rockin' the Mohawk

I decided that I wasn't going to let cancer dictate my experiences, including the loss of my curly locks. I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath and made an appointment with one of my favorite salons in downtown Seattle called "Vain's". It's an awesome little hole-in-the-wall rocker, alternative salon. Only they would be cool with the sort of haircut that I was looking for and would be willing to put my curly hair into mini ponytails for donation to "Locks of Love".
I decided to get my hair cut in two increments. The first haircut was a boy-cut, to help me get used to my lack of hair in general. The second, was to buzz it short just before chemo started so there is very little to come out when my hair starts falling out. I was so happy with the first hair cut. It was the perfect length and I am even considering going back to it as soon as I get my hair back.



Today, I cut the remainder of my hair and for now I will have to deal with the buzz cut (with elbow room for a mini 'hawk. The picture does not do it justice however and this is after I washed the gunk out. Here is a better one.)



Earlier today, before my buzz haircut, I had my first PET scan. This scan is intended to confirm the staging of my cancer and in order to do this, I had to be injected with a radioactive sugar substance. Apparently, cancer cells metabolize much faster than normal cells, so this radioactive tracer will show up in the scan as a grey/black area. I hate to say it, but am SOOO looking forward to getting my port put in, because I am freaking SICK of getting IVs in my arms/hands. (My arms are starting to resemble that of a junkie's) After I checked in on the 2nd floor (the radiology dept), they escorted me into a small room with those recognizable IV/blood work recliners. After a establishing baseline temperature and blood pressure and a lengthy survey about what I ate the night before, a nurse came in to start my IV. Unlike the dumbass nurse that gave me lidocane before my biopsy, she put a heating pad on my arms. She explained that lidocane does not help and is counter productive, constricting the veins and causing pain in the injection site. What is the point of constricting the veins if you're trying to find one for an IV? Made sense to me. I knew that wasn't normal. She did a pretty good job with the IV; quick, clean, professional. I also got a nifty arm sock to keep all of the IV tubes etc in place and ready for the radioactive material.
After about 30 minutes, another nurse came in to talk to me and flush my IV with saline. He told David that he would have to leave the room and that no one could disturb me after the radioactive medicine had been administered via IV. David and I said goodbye and the nurse returned with a weird-looking titanium container. He twisted the titanium container open, revealing a "hidden" needle. He took down the time and injected the radioactive glucose infusion through the IV catheter. He instructed me that I would have to wait 45-50 minutes for the cells to metabolize the tracer. He gave me a blanket and turned off the lights. Suprisingly, the time went quickly even though I spent the time watching the clock and counting ceiling tiles. Thetechnician came to get me and escorted me into the scan room. The PET scan is like a bigger, more grandiose CT machine and it takes triple the amount of time. It took 45 minutes for the whole scan to be completed; all with my arms over my head. In order for the scan to be successful, I have to lie completely still in the weird cradle-like countertop. I was fine for the first 20-25 minutes, but my toes were numb for the rest of the scan. My arms were killing me, despite the technician's attempt to make it more comfortable for me. She rolled up towels and put a pillow underneath my wrists,but eventually, the pillow was not helpful at all and it put my arms in an uncomfortable position. At one point, it hurt so badly that I started to figet and carefully try to find a more comfortable position. Then I heard a booming voice, "Please continue to hold still. Only 10 more minutes." My body was screaming, "TEN MORE MINUTES?! My shoulders can't handle 10 more minutes!!", but I managed to make it through with lots of deep breathing and tears. Anyway... In sum, I was a good girl and made it through my horrible scan. David took me to lunch and a movie afterwards, which was a nice way to waste time before my haircut. And to think...I will need a PET scan after every 2 to 3 cycles of chemo. Ugh.