Cancer and other stuff


My new hair has arrived. I said I wanted big, long hair and my God that’s what I got. This thing is MASSIVE. Very, very thick, very, very long. Like something out of TOWIE or The Little Mermaid. When they first put it on, I wandered round Soho (how apt) in something of a state of shock. Could I really go round with *this thing* permanently stuck to my head? It doesn’t look like my real hair, of course it doesn’t. NO-ONE has hair this big (even Dolly Parton, Shelley). You can’t replicate a real hairline, not exactly. You can’t get the nape, the little hair round your neck, the sides of your ears, the hairlicks. What I’ve ended up with is a very expensive, real hair wig that’s glued on. Let’s call a spade a spade. And actually, as I walked round catching glimpses of this massive mane in every shop window and checking out every passer-by to see if they did any kind of double take (they didn’t, but I was in Soho after all where you regularly see way more outrageous sights), I started to love it. I love it precisely because it’s totally over the top. There is a definite element of the completely ridiculous about it and that’s what makes it powerful. My new hair – which will undoubtedly drive me mad within a week – represents my way of fighting a ridiculous situation with something equally, if not more so. Cancer, you take away my hair, twice, you slice my poor left boob off, you leave me hooked up to a drip every 3 weeks, in a scan machine every other month, you destroy all the hopes and dreams I had for my life and leave me to face a cruel and short future, I’ll come back at you with the only thing I know -a firm and defiant ‘screw you’ from behind my mahoosive, almost comedy weave. And two fingers firmly stuck up. The time to try and look ‘normal’ passed by a long time ago, so bring on the tresses I say. Thank you to Foley Court and Julie the 13th godmother for making a hideous situation a little, well, funnier I suppose. I have been able to laugh about it. Having had such a dreadful December with my hair falling out, it’s nice to be able to draw a line under the hair thing now, as that was really not helping the situation and became all-encompassing for a while.

There’s not much to update on a medical level, I’m booked in for a scan on 26th January which isn’t ideal as I should really be having it this week so we can see quickly whether this drug has worked and Goldenballs and me can try and aim for Thailand for the third time, to be away on a beach to celebrate our first whole year together. But my lovely breast nurse Ruth is on the case trying to get it brought forward. In some ways I’d prefer to leave it where it is – a couple of hospital-free weeks would be really good at the moment. I’ve got stuff I need to be doing in work. Anyway we’ll see. Keep you posted.


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