A litany of firsts

Wow - what a week. There are a number of things that I've been wanting to write about this week, so the most organized, OCD way to do it seems like subheads. Here we go:

School Nurse Emily's call
The elementary school has a fabulous nurse - Emily is gentle with the kids, and incredibly sweet. She called to let me know that Kate had come into the office two days in a row with a sore tummy. We talked about that for a minute, and then she said, "Our school secretary let me know about your ... diagnosis." She went on to say that she suspected Kate's tummy was nerves about the cancer more than anything. However, I think it was more that she had to take the bus - due to the lumpectomy surgery, I wasn't allowed to drive ... which meant a whole week of bus rides in the afternoon for Kate.

[On one of these afternoons, Kate flatly refused to get on the bus, requiring me to break the rules and drive into town to get her. But we will let that be our secret that I drove.]

Nurse Emily went on to very generously offer me her home phone number and pretty much pleaded with me to allow her to help in the form of meals or weekend child care if we needed it. I was humbled to the core, and once again, so very glad that we live in Seward.

[However, when John later was approached by the elementary school janitor at the gas station about me, the viral nature of news in a small town felt weeeeeirrrrrrd.]

Talking Cancer with the Grrrls

While I was driving home with Belle and Kate (following the latter one's refusal to get on the bus), it occurred to me that it was Time For The Talk. So when we got home, I sat them down and told them that the reason for the surgery was not just because I had an owie in my breast, but because I have cancer. We were going to need a lot of people's help in the process of getting momma better - and I underscored that meant their help, too.

I made sure to emphasize that cancer wasn't something they could catch, so I would love lots of hugs - and that I was going to look kind of silly with no hair. Which led me to:

My shortie haircut
Since baldness is a guarantee, I went ahead and CHOPPED my hair. Like Twiggy chop. See below for the before and after:

I brought Kate with me to the hair affair - she is having the greatest resistance to accepting that changes are ahead (and boy, I don't blame her one bit), so I thought it would help her to be a part of the process in a fun way. She collected some of my long waves off the floor and put them in a brown paper bag. I wonder if I'll check out what's in the bag in the coming months ;)

The awesome early generosity of peeps
The first two nights we were home from the hospital, meals were delivered. When word got out that I had cancer, this amazing band of wimmin who immediately accepted me into their group contacted me to let me know they had my back.

People from Southeast Alaska - the place that we have spent the most time in our adult lives - wrote and said they were happy to travel here to help us. My brother and his wife sent a box of candy; a dear friend sent a box full of sassy hats and an amazing kids book about cancer. I read it by myself, because I knew it would make me cry (and it did). I still choked up when I read it to Bella, but blamed my toe hurting for why I was getting weepy. This made Belle leap down and give my foot a hug, which made me even more teary.

Yesterday I got a call from a woman that I just met a couple weeks ago - an authentic woman in Christ who basically sent me an email that went, "OK. I'm going to bring you meals. Please let me do this. What, if any, allergies should I know about?" She brought lasagna and enchiladas, with directions to boot. Another woman and her kids blessed me with their company today, along with some chicken and cabbage soup and corn muffins - everything already frozen and ready for the freezer. Yet another woman who I have only met a couple of times brought me a pot of yellow tulips.

Wow. Wow, wow, wow. It is heady stuff feeling so loved.

And then not
We attended the Polar Bear Plunge over the weekend - an annual event to raise money for cancer, so going was a poignant experience for me. People were joyously jumping in crazy-cold water for people like me - it got me really teary eyed. One of the teams that jumped dressed up as a pair of boobs, others wore tutus and some people just coordinated their shirts in honor of the people with cancer for whom they were plunging - it was pretty awesome stuff.

A couple of other moms with kids in Kate's class were standing near us. I made eye contact with one in the pandemonium, and her eyes slid off my face. At first I felt torked, but it made me think - so many people have loved ones who have had cancer or died from it. Maybe this mom is one of those. People have all kinds of baggage just hearing the "C" word - I wonder what mine will be when this is all over.

But for the record: It's always nice to give someone you know a "hey" or smile when you see them in public.