housebound, sort of

Without makeup, I think I might scare small children.  

Although the little dog next door still recognizes me, so that's a relief.

My closets are clean.

My drawers organized.

My freezer is immaculate, emptied of the three frozen prime strip steaks from Costco, dated March 2016. The handsome single dad who lives next door happily takes them.

I even wipe down the vents in my living room AC and the plates covering all my plugs, something I don't think I've ever done before.

Robyn comes over and we watch (half of) Wizard of Lies. We'll watch the other half later in the week. 

I only venture out for food.

And to get my hair colored. 

Some concealer and a good blow-out help, but not enough. Makeup can't diminish a very swollen nose. And what looked passable in my un-windowed bathroom, doesn't look as good in better light.

But it's still a lot lot better than what I woke up to this morning.

Tomorrow is day #21 — the last day. 

Healing should begin on Thursday.  Will be so happy to get back to feeling and looking like me. And watching the redness, the dryness, the swelling, and most importantly, the pre-cancerous cells, disappear

day #18

It's working and I'm not.

Today is Day #18, only three days to go — though that feels like a very long time as my face is really starting to hurt. This stuff (5-fluorouracil or efudex) is nasty but powerful and hopefully is doing its job.

I google others who have used it (there are lots of scary photos, so much worse than mine). My burning, itchy, stinging nose feels very unpleasant. So far, at least, there's been no scabbing.

But oh man, when I look in the mirror, I can't believe what I'm looking at. I worked yesterday and all day I couldn't wait to get home and wash off my make-up and apply a strong moisturizer. 

So today, with the sun out, I call in sick and stay home.

I watch some YouTube videos of the Marie Kondo method of folding, and organize my socks, underwear and jean drawers (T-shirts are much too involved).

At least something in my house looks good. 

comfort over fashion

Last Friday I make the mistake of going sock-less to work.

Even my faithful Rosa Mephisto booties are painful after a few hours.

I change into a brand new pair of on-sale Prada slides that looked and felt great when I tried them on and bought them a few hours earlier. I am so confident of their comfort I even toss the box they come in.

Within an hour, I have a raw, open wound where my new shoes have cut into my foot.

It's time to forego fashion for comfort. At least as a back-up.

I go to Footlocker to buy a pair of Nike Air 2017.  The solid black and solid white are marked down from $190 to $130, but not the grey, black and white that I want:

I leave empty-handed, come home and go on the Nike site, resolved to pay $190.  But the shoes are sold out, almost making me want them more.  So I try the Footlocker site and find them. I also find a coupon for 15% off. I have trouble with the site and need to call Customer Service to place the order.  When I do, I ask, The CS rep if I can get the the shoes I want for $130. She agrees and also lets me apply the 15% off coupon.  Total cost: $110.

I hope I'm as happy with the shoe as I am with the price.  

As for the Prada's?  I will try to make them wearable. Just not at work.

NYC gems

Given what I look like, every time I have a plan I consider cancelling it ...starting with an appointment to get my hair cut.

But I go, figuring that if my hair looks better no one will notice my face.

After leaving Mark at Mark on Madison, I see a banner next door at the obscure (at least to me) Mnuchin Gallery that reads, "Cindy Sherman, Once Upon A Time, 1981-2011." I go in. The exhibit is small (under 30 works), and I am one of only two or three others there. No signs anywhere explain anything. But the enormous photos are astonishing, and the artist is the exclusive subject in every piece. It takes less than a half hour to go through the entire exhibit, but the images stay with me long after I leave.

One of the many things I love about New York is that you can find something interesting to do, even when you're not looking.

And while tonight's dinner has been planned for weeks, the exotic, outstanding  food is unexpected.

Five of us meet at Salinas to celebrate Ronda's birthday. Our corner table is in the back room, under an open latticed skylight.

Janice, Ronda, Zelia, me and Shari

We let Shari order, as she has been here before, and everything she chooses is incredible. We have many small plates, and paella (with skewers of seafood)  as the main course. 

The service is impeccable, the acoustics make it easy to have conversation, and the company couldn't be better.

We are there as the light above us changes from light to dark, and all shades in between.

We share one Uber home. 

It's a perfect night in a perfect city with a group of friends I'm lucky to be part of.

day #13

It's a cold, damp day. More like November than June.

My face is starting to look bad... sort of like having a few measles on my forehead and a mild case of adolescent pimples on my nose. Fortunately, make-up still does a fairly decent job of covering. Thank you Cle de Peau Beaute Concealer. 

And I have theater tonight, The Little Foxes with Zelia.

I would really rather not go. I am not in the mood for a two and a half hour play set in 1900.

But I do, and find myself loving it. In fact, this play should be on everyone's list of theater to see. It's totally entertaining and the time flies by.

Come home, take off my makeup, and see a most unflattering face staring back at me. 

Okay, why not?

Here's a selfie, and I still have eight more days of this cream. Can't imagine what I'll look like then.

feat by feet comparison

This weekend I walk 45,200 steps, the equivalent of about 22.6 miles. 

I come home Sunday night exhausted. My feet are bandaged and hurting. 

I grab dinner then read my friend Susan's update (https://susanonthecamino.blog). She's walking the Camino de Santiago Trail, about 500 miles in six weeks. Two of my friends are joining her in late June for one week. They will do the last 100 miles with her, and want me to come.

I'm tempted.

I love the idea of bonding with three friends in the great outdoors. Safe from world horrors. Far from daily Trump twitters. Immersing myself in the beauty of old European villages and breathtaking vistas would be amazing.

My 45,200 steps between Friday and Saturday pales to the 44 miles, 88,010 steps Susan walked in the same three days. 

The scenery I walk through changes little. Maybe a new dress or two arrives, but otherwise it's all the same, clothes and more clothes.

Susan's dramatic scenery evolves and changes step by step. 

Susan climbs and descends mountainous trails, walks through small, non-English speaking towns, and passes gorgeous countrysides.

I walk in a temperature-controlled environment, about 75 degrees if I had to guess.

Susan's climate changes from over 90 degrees to 55, from sunny skies to thunderous ones. 

My clothing choices vary depending on my mood and my feet: sometimes I wear a dress  with little leather booties; other times I wear jeans and sneakers.

Susan has two outfits for the entire trip. Her fashion decisions are easy. Every night she showers with her clothes on from the day, scrubs them clean, strips and rinses them, then hangs them all  to dry. 

When Susan wants a break, she might stop in a tiny cafe where English is not spoken, and orders, according to her, the world's best coffee con leche.       .

I go to a crowded cafeteria and listen to other people's phone conversations.

Still, reading about Susan's adventures is as close as I can imagine myself being to the Camino Trail.

 I am truly in awe of my good friend.

face update

So far, so good.

If good is that it doesn't look that bad.

But good is having more redness and more stuff on my face that doesn't look good. That means the medication is working.

So I'm hoping to start looking worse.

Today begins day 11 of a 21 day regimen with 5-fluorouracil; a topical chemo that is supposed to bring out and kill pre-cancerous cells (that are on my nose and T-zone on my face).

The pictures I googled were scary looking.

Doubt I'll be posting any selfies, unless I lose all vanity.