Thursday 30th December
They say that you will lose your hair when you have chemotherapy. This would indicate that I have no idea where my hair is. On the contrary, I know exactly where my hair is. It's on my pillow, it's in the shower plughole, it's on everyone I hug, it's on my scarf, it's on the collar and shoulders of all jackets and jumpers and in a supreme act of revenge, it's on the cats!!!
So given that I was starting to resemble scrofulous degenerate I decided to shave my head. Or rather let Hannah do it. So I had a number 3, (those of a male persuasion will be more familiar with this term). Anyway, I am fairly certain that Hannah will never be a hairdresser because at no point did she ask me how my Christmas was or where I'm going for my holidays! I am assuming that the rest of my hair will eventually fall out and then at that point I shall let my delightful husband, Terry, have a go at it with his razor.
I have decided that I will not be wearing a wig, as my head gets very hot when I wear a hat, which I can at least remove without too much fuss. I suspect that taking off a wig in public will probably cause more of a stir.
On the whole I've already got used to my "egg head", although I really do now look like my big brother, which is slightly disquieting. I shall just have to invest in some Bet Lynch style earrings so people can tell us apart.
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