It'll be five years that I've been duking it out with cancer. I've lost a lot but I'm working on getting some of it back.
As I type, I'm coloring my hair. It's not nearly as thick as it used to be but the gray is starting to bother me. I'm trying to shore up the wreckage of my once strong, nimble and balanced body, and I'm clothing it in somewhat fashionable items that go beyond baggy sweatpants and loose tops. I bought myself a mauve sweater this week and a pair of purple shoes. So there.
Yesterday, I applied a little make-up, just enough to boost my ghostly pallor. I wasn't going anywhere special, the hospital in the morning for my non-spa treatment, later on to the Armory to watch my son race. The effort made me feel good, and no doubt look a little better.
Pizza and a movie ended my day. Better go rinse out the color.