For the first time in eight years...

... I went to my fave hairstylist in the world, plopped down into our chair for a two-hour posh spa event, and said, "Charlene, do me. Let's play."

"Well," you might muse. So? People with leedul teeny smidges of control issues don't tend to talk like that. Charlene responded with, "Do you want me to tell you what I'm going to do or do you want me to surprise you?"

Surprise me.


And so it began... as one of the most pampered, luxuriating treats I have given to myself EVER.

Charlene Stratton (the ArtBeat Salon owner) and Genevieve Palogan (a superb master stylist) have been cutting my hair all this time. But NO color! No messin' wid dat! I think my ego was amusing itself seeing how little gray would come in, and frankly I liked my dark ash locks. I kept it all pretty simple.

I gave myself an utterly pampered spa day. It was not a hospital day. You can see my steroid face - puffy as all get out even with my post-hospital weight loss (10 lbs that!). "That makes the lines on your face less visible, you know," said Charlene simply. I love you! You are nice to me and always have been.

After the amazing coloring excursion, Charlene shaped 'n gracefully blow-dried... then said, "And now I have two presents for you. One, I would like to have Rachelle trim and gently tint your brows. Would you like that?"

I have never tweezed nor touched my brows in my life. "Yes, please!" I said. Rachelle is a Master Esthetician from whom I have received THE most AMAZING and healing facials EVER. (Do I sound like a Valley Girl or what?). We went back into the healing room and... I emerged... with lovely brows. And hugs. And peace.

It was now almost 5pm. Three hours of glorious pampering!

The other gift echo'd a series of "girl giggles" many of us had shared that day with new folk being semi-auditioned at the salon. Cute guys. My eyes still wander. In a simple paper bag, Charlene handed me...a dark chocolate butt. Yes - buttocks, bahunkus (made up semi-Yiddish word), gluteous yummulous! Earlier snorts about "skinny black butt jeans" took on another realm.

I show up for my medical appointments, too. I take the pills I have agreed to take, over which I often remember to pray. The Dex still kicks my butt every single morning with shakes and disorientation. Today's gallop through UCSF based on a CT scan I'd asked for was fairly exhausting on many levels, with the added edge that for the very first time I drove there myself. Normally I've made a big game of it being dropped off and even - praise be to God - chauffeured. Today's maiden solo flight took a few notches out of my fairly limited stores of "whatcha got in Felix the Cat's magic bag, girl?" Parking was hell. Trying to find "11Long" (in the 505 Building) baffled me, but when I handed over my old wig and one scarf in a gift bag at the Nurses Station and said, "This cost $250 and has about 6 good months left on it - please find it a good home," my heart danced a lighter step. The CT scan took 5 minutes although getting my own CD copy will include the Post Office since the Film Library didn't have it together. I picked up a paper prescription for A Controlled Substance that sometimes helps my lung to ease and nighttime brain to chill. One 5mg. tablet seems to do it. Beats the IV-Dilaudid I was getting in ICU! (Of course I had 3 tubes in me then, so "need" was not a nebulous concept).

I go back on the 20th to meet with the other oncologist, Jeff Wolf. I will ask a friend to accompany me for that, as what few words this doctor dishes out err on the side of not so pleasant.

And this coming Wednesday the 7th, some of God's BEST healing medicine of all will arrive from Scotland- Tony, Ali and Ruthie! Love and fellowship... and best friends. I'll stock up their Moroccan Villa the day before. And we will take each blessed day as we are given that week. Oh I breathe happiness just writing this!

Lord God, You are so good to me. Let me share the bounty of Your heaven each day as You direct me. When things are tough or tiring, please give me faith and deeper trust in You. And thank You for hugging me with my new hair, gracious Lord.