Back to my old self

I have a hot date later today! 

I’m feeling both nervous and excited. By all accounts this man has made countless women very happy. I’m hoping he’ll do the same for me.

No, this isn’t George the doctor from the other day who made my healthy heart flutter. The person in question is the hospital’s wig-man. It’s time for him to sort me out.

I need to choose my NHS wig. I can only do this at hospital. Today I’ve got more breath tests plus the usual pre-chemo stuff.

My hair has been slowing thinning rather than falling out thick and fast. Sadly the bald patches are getting bigger. My comb-over is getting higher.

It’s incredible that my hair has lasted this long but I reckon that soon I’ll have to shave my head.

I want to get my wig while I’m still feeling kinda okay. Due to the relentless build-up of the toxic drugs I’m worried that in the next few weeks I’ll feel so horrendous I won’t want to get out of bed most days.

My wigs have been locked in a hospital cupboard just waiting for me. I picked out a selection from a catalogue a few weeks ago. I now have to fit them on and decide which one I want. They all look pretty much like my hair used to.

There weren’t many that I liked. It seems that the world of wigs is stuck firmly in the 1980s. If you want to look like Princess Diana then you’re in luck. I’m hoping that my wig will be more Duchess of Cambridge.

The hair may be taking a while to come out but the chemo really must be working its magic as my eyelashes and eyebrows are disappearing. I can disguise these with make-up. The loss of head hair is harder to hide.

I still have Barbarella, the blond bombshell of a wig, on stand-by so why do I need an NHS one?

As I start to feel more and more tired, my confidence is quietly ebbing away. I’m not really sure that I could pull off the Barbarella look every day. In the past it would be no problem. I’m quite outgoing, well I was. Since being diagnosed with cancer I don’t always have the energy to be the person I used to be.

It’s ironic that it’s going to be easier to wear a wig that makes me look how I used to even if I don’t always feel like my old self. But the chemo won’t last forever. In a few months, I may be bald but hopefully I’ll be feeling a lot more like I want to be Barbarella.

Becoming Barbarella

As I don’t have a proper wig yet, Barbarella is on stand-by.

Barbarella is a massive long blond wig that I wore to a friend’s fancy dress party last year. I could never have imagined that just over six months later I might have to wear it for real.

The fake hair came with a 60’s style zip-up dress. The outfit was supposed to transform me into Barbarella as in the science fiction flick.

It didn’t quite work out like that. (That’s why this photo from the party is just a head shot!)

Incredibly though I still have hair.

I thought I’d be bald by now. The chemo should have seen to that a couple of weeks ago. Instead as I write this I have almost a full head of really greasy hair.

I’m still following the advice of the hospital’s wig man. To try not to wash it very often, to preserve what’s still there. I can’t even put it up or do anything that would encourage it to fall out. That includes using dry shampoo.

Please don’t tell me that after a while it starts to clean itself. If I was backpacking around Thailand then I wouldn’t mind trying out that theory. Going through treatment for cancer with skanky hair is a whole different matter. I can safely say that after more than a week, my hair does not self-clean.

It just continues to fall out in great big handfuls especially on the rare occasions that it is washed.

My hair is thinning but I must have so much of the stuff normally that you can’t really tell. Well apart from a bald patch that I can cleverly disguise with a comb-over.

I reckon that it’s just a matter of time before I have more bald patch than comb-over. When that happens I’ll get it all shaved off. I have to say I’m feeling a lot more relaxed now as I wait for that moment.

I won’t get my NHS wig for at least another week and I don’t want to buy any wigs until all my hair is gone. So if I do have to become Barbarella anytime soon then I’ll be happy to be blond but I certainly won’t be wearing that silver dress again!