A hairy moment

A day I never thought would happen again, has happened…I have had a haircut! OK…a “haircut” may be pushing it a bit, the whole process took less than 60 seconds BUT scissors were applied to my thickening short hair to beckon it into a “style” !

I was starting to think that maybe I might now pass as someone who had chosen to have my hair like this rather looking like a remnant of chemo. However yesterday I chanced upon 2 locals who I hadn’t since before the past year’s drama. They both instantly grasped I must have cancer and asked about it, so maybe a way to go yet…

Next couple of weeks have a few milestones. I am going into the office to discuss a possible return to work, which seems rather scary…How do I possibly know if I am ready?

Another highlight is my appointment for fitting my prosthesis. I am quite blasé about my current cushion-like right breast which I can over or under-stuff to order and, on a more practical level, can be thrown into the washing machine, willy-nilly!  It already feels very “me” and suits my lifestyle! Have to say that this detachable breast business is so much better than the previous permanent variety! Why do I need something more solid and heavier to hulk about?  Maybe I do…alternatively, perhaps it will sit like “April” the wig (that was never worn) in the cancer corner (rather like the naughty step) as a reminder of what has happened. The display options could be more limited but I am sure I can come up with something…

Then I have “the week of many hospitals” which reads rather like Solomon Grundy* although with (I am assuming) a better outcome

  • Monday: echocardiogram
  • Tuesday: my regular intravenous cancer treatment
  • Wednesday: back to dermatology
  • Thursday: back to orthopaedics for nerve blocker “procedure” on spine
  • Friday: now…I am not sure…I seem to have something written in my diary that makes no sense at all – so if anyone has any ideas what “BB Bra” could mean….

…and there is also the gym with its stamina promise whispering in my ear. I remain confused as to how anyone can “rest”.

*Solomon Grundy,
Born on Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
That was the end
Of Solomon Grundy.
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5 thoughts on “A hairy moment

  1. Dear Wendy, I am still checking on your blog from the States. Will be back in another two weeks, so will arrange another lunch time meeting then. If you are back at work we should meet at the Jericho cafe. Lots of love.

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