Girls Write Out
Thursday, February 18, 2010

We made it home!!! Whoohooo!! I got to sleep in our own bed last night!! God is so good!!

My first chemo went well--slept right through it! I started to get a little nauseas last night before bed, but I wasn't sure if that was the chemo or the long trip home. I took a pill and I'm feeling fine this morning, so I'm hoping it was the trip and all that.

Okay, so you all know I'm not exactly the picture of elegance. I've always wanted to be a woman of grace and elegance. You know the type, creamy complexion, perfect hair, long thin neck, the kind of woman who makes a plain black dress with pearls look like a designer creation--think Audrey Hepburn. So that's always been my goal that has been miles out of reach.

Case in point.

I get my new wig--which you've already seen on this blog, so I'll spare you. But it's a fine wig and I put it on my first day feeling quite proud because it has so much more hair in it than I really have. I must have been feeling a smidgen of pride, because it all went downhill after the initial slipping on.

My friend, Cheryl and her husband Mark, came to the hospital to see me, Colleen and Dave and my husband were there. We got to laughing about something. The laughter purt near killed me (those of you who have had hysterectomies know what I'm talking about here), and I was trying to hold my stomach, keep everything in tact and stop laughing, but for the life of me, I couldn't. I had my face under the sheet a moment because I lost a pill that hubby gave me, oh, it was just crazy. One thing led to another and the next thing I know my hair is hiding my eyes and feeling a bit whopperjawed on my head. I can only imagine how it looked to the audience of five sitting in front of me. Of course once they saw me we all started laughing some more.

My mother always says you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and I'm thinking there's some truth to that! LOL!

So I've decided the wig comes off at bedtime. instead I wear my nice warm turban and it looks just fine.

We are what we are, 'eh?
Diann Hunt  
posted at 7:35 AM  
  Comments (11)
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At 8:43 AM, Blogger Denise Hunter said...

You're hysterical, Di! And that ability to laugh at yourself is one of the things we love best about you.

I'm with you though. One moment, I'm all elegance and the next I've tripped and fallen on my face. It's part of our charm. ;-)

At 9:22 AM, Blogger Colleen Coble said...

I wish you girls had been there. Okay, here's the setup: Di was supposed to take these tiny homeopathic pills under the tongue. About the size of a pinhead. Jim had given her one, and she'd lost it in the bed. She was looking for it and got the giggles. Jim gave her another one. She hid her face and we were all giggling. When she peeked out from under the sheet she said, "I have some bad news."

Jim goes, "Don't tell me you lost that one too." And we all just howled when we looked at her slipped wig and guilty face. LOL

At 10:20 AM, Blogger Hannah Alexander said...

Okay, Diann, do you NOT realize that THIS is what makes you more beautiful and elegant than any phony movie star? This is truly gorgeous and so much more lovable. It gives you more dignity and grace than those with only a facade of elegance, because you know who you REALLY are, and you are fine with it, and you make others feel fine with who they are. That is the sign of a true, beautiful lady.

At 11:18 AM, Blogger Kristin said...

Your mother needs to see what they're doing with leather these days. way better than silk purses anyway. Where ya gonna take that? To bed with your jammies?

Those homeopathic pills are SOO small!

At 2:04 PM, Blogger Pam S. said...

Ha!Ha! Great to have you back, writing on girlswriteout!

REAL AND GENUINE is where it's at. Thanks for being those things! (I can't relate to a long thin neck and creamy complexion--but I can certainly identify with the slipped wig problem!) :)

At 4:32 PM, Blogger Suzanne said...

And YOU are a joyful woman! God gives us a sense of humor for a reason and you're using yours to the fullest. You're adorable!

At 4:48 PM, Blogger Leticia said...

Diann it is so wonderful to have you back! I love your quarky sense of humor. And btw, you look beautiful.

And thanks to you and Colleen I can picture what occurred in that room! Way too funny!

As for getting the giggles after a hysterectomy, been there and done that, it hurts, but laughter is so healing, isn't it?

At 5:01 PM, Blogger jel said...

glad ya made it home ok!

oh and Diann, now that ya are home , be sure to remind your DH, to put the lid back down! :)

At 7:21 PM, Blogger Beverly said...


It is so good to hear you again! LOVE the laughter, even when it hurts!

Here's to more laughter!


At 11:26 AM, Blogger Julie Carobini said...

LOL Such a great sense of humor, Diann!

At 9:55 PM, Blogger Rachel Hauck said...

Welcome home! What a funny story! So glad you're healing.



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The Authors
Kristin Billerbeck
Kristin Billerbeck is a proud Californian, wife, mother of four, and connoisseur of the irrelevant. She writes Christian Chick Lit; where she finds need for most of the useless facts lulling about in her head.

Colleen Coble

Colleen Coble writes romantic suspense with a strong atmospheric element. A lovable animal of some kind--usually a dog--always populates her novels. She can be bribed with DeBrand mocha truffles.

Denise Hunter

Denise Hunter writes women's fiction and love stories with a strong emotional element. Her husband says he provides her with all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too.

Diann Hunt

Diann Hunt writes romantic comedy and humorous women's fiction. She has been happily married forever, loves her family, chocolate, her friends, chocolate, her dog, and well, chocolate.

Hannah Alexander

Cheryl Hodde writes romantic medical suspense under the pen name of Hannah Alexander, using all the input she can get from her husband, Mel, for the medical expertise. For fun she hikes and reads. Out of guilt, she rescues discarded cats. She and Mel are presently taking orders from four pampered strays.

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