Now that we’re at Day 14, we’re also at an important milestone, just 2 weeks with my new marrow. No fireworks, no lucid dreams about the other side. Other than create sores in my GI tract that come up through the lining of my mouth and outwards, like a lip augmentation gone bad, says my Latina friend, Elsa, and no Popeye breakouts.
\It took me two hours to get this little post this far. The Lisa Rinna lips never made it. My own are too scary but you might see them if I ever get to that point. In the meantime, here’s my newest, routine. We’ve been in 5 West since the pain in my mouth and throat got to be excruciating. No fever, but normal BP and increasing mental dullness and pain. If I can’t get food down on my own, I weaken and out come the eating tools and “incentives”.
Pete tried to help me cut my hair really short that evening when I started getting clumps beween my fingers. But to be honest, I wanted this part of transition to be mine. Losing my hair was mysterious to go at it on my own, and sitting on the bed with a bucket for hours of transformation was therapeutic. Re-watching some bookmarked YouTube videos about fake hair I learned that they are for women, by women, who have such compassion. Though most of the wigs now made are from a special synthetic, others are still made the old fashioned way and all are stunning and suited to all tastes but mostly it was Leann’s visit that gave me the strength that only girl bonding could offer. She had left Kingston around 7pm and after a short follow up, Pete was sneaking back to the Island so Friday morning he would jump on the kids’ beds and ask who wanted to go skating! They played hookey Friday.
Here’s what we did!