The First Time

Since Christmas I have gone through a number of "first times:" - the first time I went grocery shopping since my 2nd chemo treatment; the first time I drove to town on my own since my 3rd chemo treatment; my first full haircut; ( the curls are so curly that length gave me a seventies look. For those who are young among you, think afro); and coming up as January draws to a close, the first anniversary of finding that suspicious lump in my breast.

Another first time was being able to walk the dog the full length of our beach path in both directions. On my way back from that walk, a young woman pushing a toddler in a pram strode past me, and my poor peripheral vision only picked up once she passed that she was wearing a cancer scarf on her head with no hair showing under it. I confess I stood there staring after her with my heart doing a twisting thing in my chest. My mouth had dropped open but I had no courage to call out to her.

I was reminded of the many times people stopped and stared at me when I was obviously covering up a bald head. I recall a woman stopping in the street and watching me wide eyed and jaw flopped open. I was upset by it at the time, but maybe she was praying for me as I was for the woman with the toddler. ( I hope I was less obvious though). Not all stares were upsetting: there was a man , much taller than me, who almost bumped into me one wintry day when I had been too cold to care about appearance so had a woollen beanie on my scalp. He came to a speedy halt on his toes, looked down at my head and pointed. His mouth held the jaw drop position. I laughed all the way back to the office.

One morning, with my purple and silver threaded scarf elegantly wound around my head, I walked through a crowd and caught the eye of a short haired woman. Her sympathetic little smile said: you and me,both. So I smiled back.

The attention I received as a bald person, and the compliments, exceeded any I received when I had hair. It has made me think back to other times when people have stared at me. I would get lots of looks when I was pregnant. Some people,looked with interest, some with sympathy, some with longing. The best looks I got were from men who looked at me with undisguised joy and curiously pride. I was surprised the first time it happened, but it happened often enough for me to notice a trend. It was one of the highlights of being pregnant. I used to drive an old Mini. People would do the mouth drop thing when I drove past them in those days. One person laughed and pointed. As a 16 year old in my primrose yellow dress, I caught the eye of a cute sailor with a Bruce Willis smile. We shared nothing more than eye contact and a big grin, but his "I see you" smile soothed a lot of teenage angst.

It's amazingly easy to encourage someone. A simple little smile, nod, or a brief moment of eye contact that says "I know. " It comes unasked for, unexpected, at random, but so at the right time, that it is a gift from God. I wish I'd smiled at the woman with the toddler. Next time I will.

1 Thessalonians 3: 12 -13

1. And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, even as we do toward you:
2. To the end he may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all his saints.

Driving Miss Crazy

Tomorrow it will be six months since my really cool brain surgery, and I'm pleased to say that the insult to my brain has given me real insight into the effects of brain injury on function. When I first came home from the hospital, I needed to walk with a stick to keep my balance, and I needed a bath stool to help me in and out of the bath, and to sit on while dressing. What had previously been unconscious and automatic, became a deliberate exercise in motor planning. Problem solving was just that! When I filled the bath too full with hot water, it was a struggle for me to work out what I would do, and I had to carefully think out each step. Quite frightening for someone who typically just gets things done! I recall how proud I felt of myself the first time I completed the entire bath routine on my own. With my my stick in hand I opened the bathroom door, to see DH beating a rapid retreat. (He'd been secretly hovering outside the door in case he needed to come in and save me.) "I did it" I said and stepped forward with my head high and my face smug.

"You've got toilet paper dragging off your shoe" he said.

My biggest concern since I returned to work is that I don't think as quickly as I used to. Since in my work I constantly do battle with bureaucrats who don't seem to think at all, I doubt that they notice or care that I may be slower off the mark, but it irks me that during my time of being out of action, there has come onto the market a pen that is smarter than I am! My handwriting, never great, has been appalling since my op, and my efforts to stay mentally on the ball, and also recall what everyone has said in a meeting is too much for my holey head. So I'm hoping my new Smart Pen will fill the gap.

Yesterday, my long awaited Drivers assessment with the Occupational Therapist came about. I wasn't feeling too confident. A practice drive with DH had him clutching the door handles in fear, and at one stage he screamed that I was going off the road to the left! I walked to the OT's office which was in a beautiful old Edwardian house. She invited me to sit in a chair in what would have been the drawing room, and started the testing process. Simple eye hand co-ordination activities that I could , as it turned out, do with my eyes closed. After testing my ability to rotate my head and upper body, she checked my feet and legs for strength. Then she sat square in front of me.

Her feet she explained, were the car pedals, and I was to press her feet with mine to accelerate and brake on her instructions. We got started.."accelerate" and my right foot pressed her left one..."brake" and my left foot moved forward, quickly retracted and my right pressed the brake. "oh I'm glad you did that she said, or we'd have a problem right off!" "No" I said, "this is obviously a manual car. I was going to put the clutch in." so maybe I can still think quickly.

On the actual road, in the dual control automatic car, I managed to brake and accelerate effectively and safely, and do 3 point turn, parking and reversing convincingly enough, that she judged me safe to be on the road, although said I'd obviously forgotten a few subtleties in my 7 months off driving. So I am booked for a refresher lesson next week. I'm thinking that after Christmas, I need to gather all the bills and expenses that have arisen out of this year of illness, treatment and surgery. But on reflection, that may drive me crazy.

Better to be thankful that we came out of it afloat. I should keep to my driving motto: reverse only when absolutely necessary.