Hair is still coming out. Finally, finally, I had to bite the bullet and go to buy a wig. I also had a lot of coursework to mark, so combined the tasks.
Buying the wig was the most stressful task so I did it first. The shop was fairly easy to find. Although it was the shop recommended by the NHS, it was also the place my hairdresser advised me to go to, so I was OK with it. I WAS however, disappointed with the shop. It was small and the wigs inside were really old fashioned and not at all tempting. There WAS one wig, short and in dark brown, that I thought I may be able to cope with.
The assistant was busy when I went in so I waited. I wasn’t convinced by her manner but knew I couldn’t leave without a wig because I didn’t want to have to gather my courage and go back again. Finally when it was my turn, she took me into a back room. I didn’t want to hide in the back but wasn’t given an option. I tried wig after wig. They all looked ridiculous. Each time, the assistant liked the look, which didn’t give me much confidence in her advice.
Then she put a wig on me that off, looked like nothing special. Once it was on, however, it just looked like hair. Which was SUCH a huge relief and is, I suppose, the intention. I played with it, she adjusted it.
I bought wig shampoo and conditioner. I considered some of the scarves they sold but they were dark and old fashioned. I asked about how to tie scarves and the woman from the back room played around a bit; obviously a hairdresser, she did it easily with a flick of the wrist and a little finger play.
The assistant told me I should keep the wig on. I felt really self-conscious but did it. I guess I had to start sometime. I walked around in it, feeling as if everyone must be staring at me. No one was. But the front of the wig kept riding up making the fringe look stupid.
I sent a photograph of myself to S and to I. S liked it. I, however, was upset. Which made the whole thing worse. OK, so I may die. I know it and am coming to terms with the possibility and am resolving my own sense of mortality and religious and spiritual beliefs but my poor baby will be left behind, having to deal with losing her mother. Which is SHIT. I can’t do it. I have to live even if it means having bits of me cut off and having chemo after chemo. So I spent the afternoon reassuring her. I love her SO much and I hate that she’s having to deal with this.
Thursday, 21 October 2010
58. Skull cap
So the slight hair loss continued. It was looking inevitable that I’d be without hair within a week or so I started buying scarves. R was with me the first time; rehabilitation after his time in Coventry. It was helpful, he helped with choosing colours that didn’t suit me and also made me less self-conscious.
But bloody hell. Decent scarves are expensive. £25 in M&S. I remembered that I’d got quite a lot of scarves at home, stashed away for work wear. I pulled them all out and started trying them on. It was hopeless. I didn’t know how to tie them and which ones looked best. Square scarves were easier. Long rectangular scarves LOOKED like they should work better but didn’t. There is a problem of what to do with the body of the scarf that hangs over the back of the head. Wearing them as a hair band didn’t work because then the bald bit stuck out the back.
R had the brainwave of looking on You Tube for instructions of how to tie a scarf. I watched the cancer scarf advice. It was functional and useful but… NOT glamorous. I did another search and found a gorgeous Muslim woman advising how to tie a hijab. Hey. HER scarf looked gorgeous. She had a really wide headband underneath to give a two colour effect, with the scarf further back on the head. Mmmm. THEN she showed a cap thing that could be used instead of the headband.
Eureka! One quick web search later and I’d ordered 4 cotton jersey bonnet caps from a Muslim website. Hot pink, turquoise, purple and black. Nice colours and best of all, VERY cheap. Not much more than £1 each. With a scarf tied over the top, in two complementary colours, the effect is not too bad. A hot pink jersey cap with a purple scarf over the top is LOVELY. Although wearing them over hair is annoying and itchy. I HOPE they’ll feel better when I’m bald.
But bloody hell. Decent scarves are expensive. £25 in M&S. I remembered that I’d got quite a lot of scarves at home, stashed away for work wear. I pulled them all out and started trying them on. It was hopeless. I didn’t know how to tie them and which ones looked best. Square scarves were easier. Long rectangular scarves LOOKED like they should work better but didn’t. There is a problem of what to do with the body of the scarf that hangs over the back of the head. Wearing them as a hair band didn’t work because then the bald bit stuck out the back.
R had the brainwave of looking on You Tube for instructions of how to tie a scarf. I watched the cancer scarf advice. It was functional and useful but… NOT glamorous. I did another search and found a gorgeous Muslim woman advising how to tie a hijab. Hey. HER scarf looked gorgeous. She had a really wide headband underneath to give a two colour effect, with the scarf further back on the head. Mmmm. THEN she showed a cap thing that could be used instead of the headband.
Eureka! One quick web search later and I’d ordered 4 cotton jersey bonnet caps from a Muslim website. Hot pink, turquoise, purple and black. Nice colours and best of all, VERY cheap. Not much more than £1 each. With a scarf tied over the top, in two complementary colours, the effect is not too bad. A hot pink jersey cap with a purple scarf over the top is LOVELY. Although wearing them over hair is annoying and itchy. I HOPE they’ll feel better when I’m bald.
57. Losing hair
I was drying my hair in the bathroom in front of the mirror as usual. It was looking a little limp so I gave the long side of my asymmetric cut a tug… and a small clump came out. I know I’ve been expecting it (not yet, supposedly after the 2nd chemo) but it was still a mild shock. But. No point worrying. I flushed it down the loo and carried on. Later, R told me I’d been imagining things. Really. Thanks for that.
Again, the next day, a similar amount of hair. But only when I pulled on it, so obviously, JUST DON’T.
Again, the next day, a similar amount of hair. But only when I pulled on it, so obviously, JUST DON’T.
56. No shit
Or maybe I’m no different after all. Things have blown up with R. All the little niggles came together yesterday. I’ve been trying to ignore stuff but there’s only so much that can be put aside. It’s a bit like ignoring kids with behaviour issues at school. If you don’t nip it in the bud it just gets worse and worse. Which is bad. One thoughtless comment led to another thoughtless action and it snowballed into downright indifference.
And yet I assumed I needed him because of the cancer. Having only been here a year, I don’t know loads of people, which I think also maybe made him feel obliged. Having cancer makes me feel like shit. But a friend, who has a friend with cancer, gave me a talking to about appreciating living. And she’s right and I realised this. I’ve been mooching around, scared and stressed about dying, when what I should be doing is appreciating living. It could be worse. The cancer could be in my lymph nodes, it could have spread, I could have needed a mastectomy, I could be having a horrible time with chemo.
So. To the best of my ability, no fucking more. And part of what has been making me sad and depressed was / is R. He has been making me feel like shit lately. I do nice stuff for him, think of things he might like, did laundry, housework and shopping while he was away. I KNOW he’s been supportive of my health issues. He was prepared to look after me during chemo. But I’m not just a responsibility (maybe that’s the problem, he’s not big on responsibility), I’m still me even with the depression and cancer.
I’m not used to this. I’m used to having fairly good self-esteem about myself but the cancer has affected my rating. I’m no longer able to see myself as a reasonable catch for someone. If I’m single again, I can’t see myself in a new relationship. Who wants to be with someone who may need nursing and who may not survive, long term. That does not, however, mean I’m prepared to be dragged down by someone else. The ultimate cliché maybe but life really is too short.
And yet I assumed I needed him because of the cancer. Having only been here a year, I don’t know loads of people, which I think also maybe made him feel obliged. Having cancer makes me feel like shit. But a friend, who has a friend with cancer, gave me a talking to about appreciating living. And she’s right and I realised this. I’ve been mooching around, scared and stressed about dying, when what I should be doing is appreciating living. It could be worse. The cancer could be in my lymph nodes, it could have spread, I could have needed a mastectomy, I could be having a horrible time with chemo.
So. To the best of my ability, no fucking more. And part of what has been making me sad and depressed was / is R. He has been making me feel like shit lately. I do nice stuff for him, think of things he might like, did laundry, housework and shopping while he was away. I KNOW he’s been supportive of my health issues. He was prepared to look after me during chemo. But I’m not just a responsibility (maybe that’s the problem, he’s not big on responsibility), I’m still me even with the depression and cancer.
I’m not used to this. I’m used to having fairly good self-esteem about myself but the cancer has affected my rating. I’m no longer able to see myself as a reasonable catch for someone. If I’m single again, I can’t see myself in a new relationship. Who wants to be with someone who may need nursing and who may not survive, long term. That does not, however, mean I’m prepared to be dragged down by someone else. The ultimate cliché maybe but life really is too short.
55. Good day
Not a bad old day, really. Slept until 10, which is pretty unheard of and nice. R phoned, I assume because he realised how thoughtless he was yesterday, to suggest a day out. I used to hold a grudge, but cancer’s made me rethink my attitudes.
So I ran a couple of errands and then we went to Craster. It was windy and cool, rather than cold. We walked up to the castle, which took, I don’t know, an hour, hour and a half?
It was really good. Fresh, invigorating and really blew the cobwebs away. I didn’t think about my boob or the cancer at all, until R brought up Michael Douglas, who is looking rough. Now, far be it from me to lack sympathy for someone; I like to flatter myself that I’m a kind and sensitive person, but Michael Douglas has got 20 years on me AND has been a lifelong smoker. Not that anyone ever deserves cancer, but I want 20 more years please.
So I ran a couple of errands and then we went to Craster. It was windy and cool, rather than cold. We walked up to the castle, which took, I don’t know, an hour, hour and a half?
It was really good. Fresh, invigorating and really blew the cobwebs away. I didn’t think about my boob or the cancer at all, until R brought up Michael Douglas, who is looking rough. Now, far be it from me to lack sympathy for someone; I like to flatter myself that I’m a kind and sensitive person, but Michael Douglas has got 20 years on me AND has been a lifelong smoker. Not that anyone ever deserves cancer, but I want 20 more years please.
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
54. Message
If you're following this and wonder why I'm not updating, chemo kicked ass this time and I'm recovering.
Will be back online in a couple of days. Thanks for reading!
Will be back online in a couple of days. Thanks for reading!
Friday, 1 October 2010
53. What's normal?
Hmm. Couple of not so good days. No side effects from the chemo, other than having gone off hot drinks (go figure?) but mentally...
My boob's been sore and hard and swollen. I did get a bit carried away a few days ago and forgot to be careful of it, during sex, but nothing major. No S&M or anything, just a normal romp. But I don't think it was anything warranting the discomfort and pain I've been having. I've gone back to wearing the soft bra I had at first and for one night wore no bra at all and I think it's a little better.
The real problem is with my head though. How do I know what is normal about my boob now? How do I know if the lump is a real lump or scar tissue? And who do I tell? The breast nurses make me a feel a bit as if I'm a hystercial woman (and?) but I'm nervous of going to the GP because I feel as if they won't really know one way or the other. Which means I spend my time walking around, thinking that maybe I still have cancer and therefore that maybe I'm going to die. Which puts me back in the bubble where others can see and hear me, and I them, but nothing manages to get through. Because facing death is something we do alone. No one can come with us to share or lighten the burden. Fuck.
My boob's been sore and hard and swollen. I did get a bit carried away a few days ago and forgot to be careful of it, during sex, but nothing major. No S&M or anything, just a normal romp. But I don't think it was anything warranting the discomfort and pain I've been having. I've gone back to wearing the soft bra I had at first and for one night wore no bra at all and I think it's a little better.
The real problem is with my head though. How do I know what is normal about my boob now? How do I know if the lump is a real lump or scar tissue? And who do I tell? The breast nurses make me a feel a bit as if I'm a hystercial woman (and?) but I'm nervous of going to the GP because I feel as if they won't really know one way or the other. Which means I spend my time walking around, thinking that maybe I still have cancer and therefore that maybe I'm going to die. Which puts me back in the bubble where others can see and hear me, and I them, but nothing manages to get through. Because facing death is something we do alone. No one can come with us to share or lighten the burden. Fuck.
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