100%

I've heard the expression "it's all about the numbers" many times since I started battling breast cancer. There's a lot of numbers during treatment - like how high your white blood cell count is, how many more chemo sessions to go, how many days left until I get my life back again. There's also numbers involved in the everyday - like feeling just 90% of myself in terms of energy, enthusiasm, and well-being. As with most types of adversity, there's usually little mention of 100%. For example, you never hear "we are 100% sure", or "there's a 100% chance", and certainly, it's hard to ever just feel 100%. Except today...

Today, surprisingly, of all days - I felt 100%. Really. I felt I had 100% energy, and that I was 100% positive, and even 100% normal. That's the oddest part. Because of all days to feel normal, today was the day I least expected it. I started this day nervous and borderline petrified. I was going to shave all my hair off. I was taking the bull by the horns and not waiting for my hair to fall out - it was coming out on my terms. But despite the bravado I wanted to run for the hills. I told myself it would be OK to cry as the hair came off. I gave myself permission to cry. But I wasn't prepared to feel the exact opposite emotion. I wasn't prepared to find my bald self pleasing to look at. I certainly wasn't prepared to feel liberated. I've heard many gorgeous, brave women say to me - bald is beautiful and bald is liberating. Deep down a part of me thought they only said that to boost my spirits. But it's true. They were right - it truly is liberating! And the part of my identity that I thought was tied to my hair... well, funny, but when I look in the mirror I actually find myself fascinatingly beautiful without hair. (And I've actually never said, let alone thought that about myself - even when I had a full luscious head of hair!)

I had a day that started out anything but normal: my friend and stylist Tony shaved off all my hair with my husband full of love and support looking on, and my friend Paula - a survivor and successful warrior who came with liquid luck (mimosas) and croissants to toast the experience. And then I drove Dennis to the airport for a business trip. Came home to have lunch with the baby and my Mom. Worked and then late afternoon had the car cleaned, met up with Paula again for coffee and girl talk, and then bought some groceries. The latter half of my day was composed of mostly mundane yet blissfully normal events. And as I sat in my car waiting at a red light as I drove home with my groceries, it just hit me - for once, I felt great. I felt normal. I felt 100%. Wow. Today, I felt 100% truly me.