my curly hair

Had read that my hair - post chemo - was likely to grow back curlier and darker. Well don't think it's darker - although kinda hard to know as it was always tinted - but it is really curly now, what we call "kroes". I must say it does take some getting used to as it seems to be in waves. Used to gel it down in front with the nourishing creme I have been used from when it fell out from the chemo. But as from today, have decided it's pointless trying to keep it slick. Just going to accentuate the curl instead.

the scare

Found a lump last Tuesday, the day after I came back from Lesotho. Had been in a lot of pain on my left side, the side where I had had cancer and had been radiated. So much so that I had phoned and left a message for the radiation oncologist who sent one back saying I must ask the nurses about it next time I have herceptin and show them where my arm is pink (that is what the lymph lady said it was). Anyway, the pain varied from under my arm in my armpit to outside the arm.
In retrospect I think it was because I moved from dabbing my arm with creams to rubbing it. It was too early, methinks, cos since I have resorted to dabbing again, and rubbing only my arms, the pain has gone.
Be that as it may, the trouble was when the pain spread to the other side. Well, suddenly I was in agony on the other side, the non-cancer side, and so much so that I ended up taking my bra off in the evenings as it felt it was digging into me. This went on for about four days. I looked but could not see anything which suggested damaged skin or anything. So when I came back from Lesotho on the Monday, the next morning I was thinking: where is/was it sore? And, feeling around, I felt a lump to the upper right side of my breast.
I decided to do nothing until I saw The Lymph Lady the next day as she knows more about bodies than I do. She felt it, said: "there is something there" and suggested I phone the oncologist straight away. Phoned, spoke to the head nurse and asked if I should go for a scan.
No, said the nurse, let me speak to the oncologist.
When she returned my call, he could see me only in two days time. When I walked in two days later - after tears, sleepless nights and sheer devastation at the thought of surgery (was told would need surgery if the cancer came back) plus the intense chemo and radiation I would have so that I could barely walk, and what would happen if I then had swelling on both side? - the nurse saw me and said: "Oh, I forgot to tell him you were coming now."
Mmmmm..
He saw me about 5 minutes later, between patients, in the room where you get weighed and blood pressure taken before chemo. "I think it's a cyst," he said. And told me to go for an ultrasound scan whenever, not immediately.
I went yesterday. Oh, they tried to cancel it cos doctor had an emergency but I was so persistant and assertive (could barely believe it myself) that when they told him it was me needing a scan, he phoned me and told me to come immediately. I left the office in one second and raced down the road as if I had my hazards on (even thought of putting them on but then just drove with the attitude that they were on, except that I stopped at robots.)
Anyway, nothing there. Twice or maybe three time he asked me feel, to show him where it was. Think it was much smaller but nothing showed up on the ultrasound. Think it's gone. Think I am going to be fine. Now just want to live a life unblemished by all this cancer stuff, cancer talk, cancer anxieties. Now I know I am going to be ok, am healing and all will be well.

cannot believe how long i haven't written

Have had a pretty calamatous time but all is well. Last time I wrote I was on my way to Lesotho for the weekend. Well, I INSISTED on going in my car, and guess what? It broke down outside Kroonstad which is about half way, and I had to be towed into town, not ideal when it's after 5pm on a Friday and all the towing places are shut down for the night. And I am not a member of the AA cos in Joburg, you can phone at 11pm, join, and they will come and help you. Outside Kroonstad, however, you are f..., as there is no AA in Kroonstad. So I phoned a Dirk, then an Abraham, who referred me to a Pieter who sent out another Pieter - and all the time I am gooi-ing die taal (speaking Afrikaans) and thanking everyone for their country hospitality.
With no car to hire in the broader area (oh, the local Ford dealership Porters was great and met me at their outlet in town with a mechanic who then declared it was the clutch and about a five hour job), ended up spending the night in a hotel. And what an hotel. The Hacienda. "The ugliest place I have ever seen!" shrieked my friend. We had to restrain ourselves in the dining area with its high booths of blue fabric covered in plastic, all set off by fake brick-looking walls and a wine list of quite the worst wines imaginable. But seeing it's the only hotel in Kroonstad, where that night it was the venue for a matric dance and the next night was booked for a Rotary function, we did not have much choice on where to stay, especially since I had asked for a hotel (am allergic to guest houses where you stay with people who interfere with your life and want to be your best friends forever).
Anyway, got a lift to Lesotho the next morning, was frustrated at being there without a car, Porters sent their sales manager to Joburg to collect a part, and I fetched the car at midday on the Monday, after a good meal at Squirrels cafe in town.
But the dramas since I have last written do not end there. They just ended well though, thank goodness!