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! 

Laughing about the price of being a girl...

Happy feet in flip flops.

I hope that this is the last of any reports on my "beauty adventure" from last Saturday - for a while.  I'm crashing badly although yesterday I finally got a chance to check out my new washer and dryer - the one that's been in the house for almost two weeks!  It was absolute torture not to try out those machines with their bells and whistles, finally delivered to the house and not be able to do a single thing about it. Understand, I absolutely love doing laundry - one of my many quirks.

I also wanted to slip out of the house to take pictures of the tulips which continue to come up, as well as the dogwoods in full bloom.  Frustration.  Hubby did this for me but, bless his heart, he forgot the trees.  He also couldn't get the hang of cutting down MASSIVE amounts of lilacs for vases around the house, perhaps the one tradition I have every the spring, a total must.  The smell of those lilacs in the house always triggers some primitive part of my brain that says, "hallelujah! we're in for some wonderful gardens now!"

But one wild adventure a day (a load of laundry in case you've lost count) is almost too much and putting in a load of towels - well, since they were all whites, I figured I couldn't mess that load up too badly.  

As I've already established, I'm still crashing  - badly -  from Saturday's beauty adventure but the results were great.  First I want to say: it was FANTASTIC getting out of the house.  Not fantastic getting ready, but after that part was over, the rest was pretty darn good.

I loved going to my "beauty heaven" for my hair, mani/pedi, and having my eyelashes and eyebrows colored - the brows shaped as well, into the newest form which calls for a softer arch, and I am loving it.  Everyone did a great job and thanks to all that teamwork - emphasis on "team," which actually felt very much like a "village" - I'm starting to look like a girl again - OK, "woman," but understand that we females of a certain age still have a really hard time saying that word about ourselves with a straight face!

The "fixing me up" feels so incredibly renewing.  The hair is quite short (think "pixie"), my usual, with good highlights and lowlights.  Diana found FIVE more balding spots but was able work her genius.  Shaving my head (really!) is starting to sound better all the time.  I think I could carry off the turban look but my BFF said that a friend of her's was really miserable when her hair started growing out.  More misery I don't need.

But I'm so delighted that I now have eyebrows and ones you can actually see because of the coloring.  Lan, the eyelash/eyebrow superwoman, really was surprised that I have a few more hairs in the eyebrow area and this allowed the brows to pick up a lot more color than usual (go brow-hair growth enhancers!) thus deflecting the eye away from the age spots I love to fight.  I love that I no longer feel as if I have an arrow pointing at them for all to see.  Come on, I need a hobby and who says fighting age spots can't be fun?

I'm trying to organize the products I used - a lot, and I couldn't find some of my old "stand-bys - reorganization and decluttering badly needed!  Actually moving back to my bedroom and bathroom is what is badly needed.  Living with remodeling is the absolute pits and soon it'll have been a year on this latest phase alone.  

Anyhow, as I try to make sense out of my beauty products, my wardrobe, I keep getting flashbacks of an old movie from the early 60's, "The Flower Drum Song."  This is rather unusual because so many of us with CFIDS, CFS/ME, fibromyalgia, insomnia and migraines (etc.!) are so sensitive to sound and the energy that it induces is hard on our neurological systems, giving us an artificial "high" which we then pay for later, in SPADES!  Nonetheless, I keep wanting to burst out with one of my all-time favorite songs, "I Enjoy Being a Girl!"  

I saw the movie back in the old days when there'd be a double-feature and you'd usually walk in to that first showing, caring not one iota as to which part of the movie was going on - probably because no one seemed to keep track of time back when life was slower in the '50's and early '60's, most especially in the South.  You'd watch till the end of the first movie, then enjoy (hopefully) the second film, usually leaving when you reached the point where you'd walked in with that first feature - or when your parents wanted you back home again, whichever came first, I suppose.  

Well, not me with "Flower Drum Song." I watched it three times!  That's a whopping six plus movies in a row.  How did my backside handle it?  I guess it was being so young, a nine-year old.  

But even back then, though I was an unrepentant and proud tomboy - I actually earning myself the nickname "Jane" (as in Tarzan's wife), after one episode of beating and scaring the tar out of the four older boys who were attacking my younger brother.  EVERYONE called me a tomboy (as well as "bookworm' but that's for many later posts) which I rather liked.  It was an identity I carried proudly, despite the ballet lessons I took each week.  But I ALWAYS knew I loved being a girl.  The words, "with a pound and a half of cream upon my face" from the song "I Enjoy Being A Girl" fascinated me and drew me in.  After "The Flower Drum Song," I wondered about all those "girly" things for days and days...if not years and decades!

Oh my.  I just took a break and returned from YouTube. I discovered that there was a book, as well as Broadway and West End versions, of "The Flower Drum Song" and the movie's hit song, "I Enjoy Being a Girl."  I'm so incredibly happy that it's not been forgotten.  It would be like forgetting "the Sound of Music."  Actually, I can envision Maria singing, "I Enjoy Being A Girl" from that mountain top!  I think I've been won over by the latest version of the song with its peppiness and gusto.  I don't usually go in for peppiness but when I have to do "the girl" thing, as when going out for a doctor's appointment, this may start my blood flowing and, what little adrenaline my body can still produce, to start percolating.  It's certainly worth a try.  

So, hands and feet, check...a huge consideration since I can't do these little jobs since the accident with "the claw."  Of everything, I miss manicuring the most - how crazy is that?  Anyway, eyebrows and eyelashes check.  Hair cut, highlighted and low lighted within an inch of it's life, check.  New skincare products to try and to enjoy, check. (More on those at another time too!)

"I Enjoy Being a Girl" from "The Flower Drum Song," thanks to YouTube, check.  Here's the link. I hope you enjoy the gusto even if you don't happen to be a person who cares for perkiness.  But it does get the adrenaline flowing and reminds you why we "women" love and need these little extras in our lives, despite paying the the price men just don't understand! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URlW5NK2doA 

(If this link doesn't work, simply go to YouTube and put in "Flower Drum Song" as sung by Lea Salonga.  I think it's worth it!)

My Hair and Beauty Outings...

Don't we all want to come home from the hair salon looking like we did in our 20's?

On Saturday, I will hopefully have an appointment for my hair with a few other goodies thrown in. I've now gone at the very least eight months since my last hair appointment and I'm looking especially pathetic and old, gray and dull, not to mention "holy," which will become clear in a moment. I'm always worried about the whole process because of three reasons.

First: This visit has me particularly uneasy because I've been so sick that we've lost count as to how many appointments have had to be cancelled at the last minute.  I feel like a second-class citizen when I walk in after so many cancelled appointments.... I just hate being so unreliable. Really hate it.

Secondly, I must admit that I do have a real love/hate relationship with going in for my beauty adventure.  I always say, with no sarcasm or exaggeration at all, that I'd rather have a root canal done than go in for a hair appointment.  You see, my hair is very fine and thin...and getting thinner every day, unlike my body (groan).  About 15 years ago, I finally found a miracle worker in Pittsburgh, an hour drive well worth the "health cost."  I'm trying to figure out how my talented and imaginative Diana will attempt the latest challenge - a four-inch bald spot that resulted from the incident I had with my arm/hand back in November. She was already working around two other bald spots but they were just babies compared to what I've got going now.  I've been using men's Rogaine foam (I know it says that it's not to be used for women but I did some research and it looked kosher for my needs) plus Phyto vitamins for hair, something that's helped me in the past.

However, I am arming myself with pictures of when I discovered that crater, six WEEKS AFTER coming home from the hospital.  Did no one think to mention that I had this huge white scalp showing in the back of my head? Did they honestly think that I wouldn't notice it eventually??? Plus, because of that tiny problem of my almost dying a few times during that hospital thing, my hair in general had started falling out.  Anyway, I'll have those pictures for the moment Diana sees that huge hole in the back of my head and mentally throws up her hands and finally admits defeat. Poor woman needs some hope that this latest bald spot at least has a chance of growing back in. Should be interesting.

But going in for my beauty adventure is always an experience I dislike/hate for many reasons despite the fact that the women (and men) who work there are wonderful.  I love them all.  They are kind, not noticing how ill I am without appearing callous, yet never condescending nor unconcerned, yet at the same time appearing not to notice my cane. Hard act to do well!  Of course, I don't know what goes on behind my back, but  I do love two women there especially, Diana, the aforementioned hair genius, and my newest discovery, Lan, who does a beautiful job of dying what I have left of my brows and lashes so that they can be seen.  I must admit, however, that I'm so looking forward to Lan noticing the bit of growth in my brows from the hair growth products I've been using as religiously as a person with severe CFIDS/ME/Fibro can, and will be crushed, I know, if she doesn't see a difference.

BTW:  Having discovered dying of lashes and brows has really made my life a WHOLE lot easier - it eases and lifts my "self" beyond explanation.  Hubby, who takes me there and then runs errands for me between checks as to how I'm doing, doesn't understand why all this makes me feel so much better.  However, he can SEE what it does for my spirit and thus loves the whole adventure - certainly more than I do - and actually gets excited about it all, despite my acting like a grinch the whole way there.  Did I mention that irritating hubby is also the sweetest, albeit delusional, hubby ever?

Back to Lan: at least after she's done with me I have an idea as to where to go to fill in those brows with brow powder and can find my lashes to put mascara on...otherwise all is invisible or non-existent.  And since my eyes are so dry, I can actually get away without the mascara if need be and not scare any children who may cross my path.

Finally, going to the beauty farm is not an easy deal:

First, I have to feel well enough to get out of bed, bathe, put on some makeup, see how awful my hair is and SORT of fix it and then find something (other than a nightgown) to wear which fits my ever-changing body. This is major league for me.  By the time all this is done, because of the sweating, trembling, shaking, almost-passing-out factor, you can imagine me employing the "up, rest; up, rest; up, rest" method forced on me by my cruddy body.  This takes at least two to three hours to get through.  Come on CFIDS'ers, CFS/ME'er's and Fibro's, admit how hard it is to start your life each day, but especially when going out of the house!  And though we all have many of the same problems, we all manage to have different problems also, and so in the end, it's never an easy task.

Furthermore, there's that funny little annoying problem I have with sleep - the BANE of my existence.  My life has no pattern nor any predictability or reliability at all because of the sleep factor.  I never know WHEN I'll fall asleep, IF I'll fall asleep at all, for how long WILL I sleep?  And if I do happen to fall asleep, will it be an hour before I have to get woken up for the "get ready to go routine"?  Am I going to be "sick" that day, as in I'm so sick that I can't stop falling or there are huge ulcers in my mouth or any number of conditions that keep me a hermit?  I absolutely hate it when hubby sees me in the morning and the truth hits me as I see a certain expression on his face: I will not be able to go under any circumstances, I'm just doing that badly that day...no adrenaline will help, no painkillers. After so many years, he, as well as my kids, can read the signs, among them the blue or no-color lips.

People always say to CFIDS'ers, "but you don't look sick!"  We absolutely, positively and indubitably cannot stand those words.  We're sensitive about people believing us, so we all too often feel those words undermine our illness.  Furthermore, it IS an insult because we know that we happen to look like something you stepped into by accident in a cow pasture. We look horrid despite the makeup...often worse than at home without makeup, because we usually look like a marathon runner does at the end of a 25K race - not only are we all sweaty and clammy, but our hair is absolutely wet, precisely because it IS the equivalent of a 25K run for "us."  For you non-jocks out there, imagine how you'd feel after a marathon.  At the finish line line you'd be breathing hard, sweating, legs feeling like jell-o, nauseated and so forth.  That's just a bit of how I feel before I reach the front door to go out.  Now that I think about it, perhaps it's a good thing that we have an hour drive to the salon: it gives my body a chance to rest before the fun really begins!

And finally, you've spent the week before doing absolutely nothing, trying to built up what I call "health credits."  If you don't put away those books lying around your room, you get x amount of health credits.  If you stay away from the garden, if you refrain from taking a bath, washing your hair or your face but so many times in the week before (never in the week before, if I'm being honest about it), you earn another unknown amount of health credits. You're constantly thinking about those darn health credits - or being reminded of them by a family member should you forget - in everything you do.  Normally, I rarely go downstairs to the kitchen, living room, etc., areas, but the week before a doctor's appointment or a beauty adventure, I absolutely NEVER go down there.  I need to save up those health credits.

I'm excited but scared....each and every time.

So, until Saturday, I'm living on tethers, hoping against hope that this week I WILL make it to my hair and beauty appointments.  I'm eating as healthy as I can, trying not to allow anything upset me (ha!), focusing on the positives (sorry, but another ha!), saving up as many health credits as I can and using any other of the other weapons in my arsenal of getting out of the house for the day.

Hopefully, the team can make me look Bea-U-ti-ful! ;)