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I'm a mom, a wife, a best friend. Sick with CFIDS/ME/CFS and Fibromyalgia since 1975 as a result of a nasty flu while still in grad school, it wasn't until the late '80's that I received a diagnosis. Until that flu I'd never really been ill before. With each year I get progressively worse and add to the bucket load of symptoms I'm living with. I've been blessed with an incredible family and best friend who've stayed with me through my struggles as we continue to find a way out of this monstrous illness and its complications. We've tried seemingly every approach to find my way back to health. Often I think our best weapon in this undesirable and unasked-for adventure has been laughter.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Friday Tidbits: Vanity

This week I decided that I would live one of my rheumy's "rules."  He recommends that if you're going to do something, you build up "health credits" for two days and then rest for two days after the event.  It's been tough but this week I've tried to follow the first part of his formula as much as possible: the taking-it easy-part.  OK, I cheated a bit by being on twitter more than is good for me, combined with writing a couple of posts that took quite a bit of work.  But for me, that's really being magnificently obedient.  I don't listen to orders well, if at all.  It's an inherited family trait, so I come by that honestly.  Yes, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!  (Somehow, I know my rheumy won't agree!)

And the reason for this sudden "listening" to ANYONE at all?  After all, we re-scheduled a much-needed doctor's appointment and a much-needed day of planned activity for the house.  What can possibly be worth that?

Why vanity, of course: pure and simple!

And here I am breaking one of my mom's cardinal rules: never tell anyone your plans before you actually do them.  Superstitious Russian/Ukie that I am, I still more or less can't get over that bit of "indoctrination."  So, before going any further, I'm saying "knock on wood" and throwing in a sort-of Russian/Ukie equivalent: "Tphoo! Tphoo! Tphoo! Just not to jinx myself."  

I'm finally getting sprung from the house for a day of "being a girl."  I've not had my hair done since before my son's wedding, and that makes it almost nine months.  Good heavens!  I could have had a baby by now were I anywhere near child-bearing years, which I most definitely am not.  I have discovered my real hair color and then proceeded to let the whole world see it in one of my pictures.  (Oh my!  How I've changed since starting this blog: is NOTHING sacred anymore?)

I debated long and hard as to whether I would go back to my regular hair stylist/colorist.  I started with her because she can work such magic on someone who has about six hairs on their head.  Finding it more and more difficult to make the long trek out to the "big city," I'd pretty much decided that I should start going local - especially after my last surgery.  However, considering how much trouble I've had with my hair for the past two years, I didn't think I should start in on anyone new at this point.  After all, I've had five bald spots in that time period, and I'd like to know the progress of those danged spots.  They were growing in, thanks to the Rogaine, but since my surgery in October, the Rogaine program has pretty much been shafted. (A pun!)  I have enough problems.  

To add to the (hair) complications, I've also developed hypothyroidism and my hair has been coming out, if not in clumps, still in disturbing amounts.  I've actually considered - and discussed with my hubs and daughter  - if shaving my hair wouldn't just be best at this point.  After all, I remember my mom telling me that when she was growing up, the girls in her area of the Ukraine periodically had their hair shaved so that it would grow out nice and thick, especially for luscious braids.  However, I don't see me wearing braids.  Thankfully, those days are behind me.  Further faulty reasoning on the part of my mom is that she never had the nerve to shave my hair when I was a child.  Furthermore, my daughter's hair is every bit as thick as my mom's.  They both have enough hair for any five women combined and hair people are completely drenched half-way through any work done on my daughter's hair.  And then just as I think I'll go on and shave that head of mine I remember that I don't have the best looking skull in the world AND that my BFF told me that it would itch.  So, it's back to the "big city" I go!

I'm also going in for the tinting of my eyelashes as well as getting my brows done: the waxing of the peach fuzz is imperative if you want to see the peach fuzz that actually constitutes what are considered to be my eyebrows.  Dying the little hairs that are there is needed to give me something to follow when I attempt to pretend I have brows with the magic of powder and pencils.  (For my desperation on this subject, the brows, you can go to part 1, part 2, part 3 and/or part 4: they're all pretty popular posts!)  At any rate, it's really quite pathetic but I DO try my best.

As for the jinxing part.  Oh, there's no end to what can go wrong.  The weatherman said that it's supposed to be nice on Saturday.  He's never right!  Worse, either my eyebrow/eyelash maestro could be out for some emergency (like last time) or my stylist/colorist can have her own emergency.  Or I could have my own emergency.  I'm sure that before Saturday, I'll have come up with a whole list of things that can go wrong!  

But I'm hanging in there and hoping it all goes well.  Nine months is a long time to go.  Any mother out there can tell you that. 

And there's the added pleasure: I absolutely despise going to get my hair done.  Give me a root canal any day...please!  I beg of you!  

In the meanwhile I hope everyone else has a wonderful weekend and feels their best, only better.  Ciao and paka! 

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