When I was diagnosed just one short week ago, one of the main things that sprung to my mind was ‘Shit, I am going to lose my hair’. Vain I know but hair, whether you maintain it or not, is apart of who you are. You are often referred by your hair colour or you could be the one with the really long hair.
Since having James, my hair has done that normal post pregnancy trauma of falling out by the handful.
It was unsettling at first and then all of a sudden I was growing back this wispy fluff where my fringe should have been. My hair line receded (oh so attractive), but it was all part of my body getting back to normal.
But my body didn’t get back to normal, it has been trying to repel this cancer for a long time.
So, when they said I might have to have Chemotherapy, I just despaired at all my hair falling out. And my eyebrows and my fanny hair. Actually, I was quite pleased at the prospect of losing that, fanny hair is such a faff.
I decided there and then in that consulting room that I was going to cut it short because in my mind, it would be easier to lose it short than to lose it long.
When we found out that the Chemo I would need would not make me lose my hair, I literally jumped off my chair. Again, I know how vain that sounds, but I really don’t give a shit.
With this in mind, I decided to stay put with my decision to cut my hair short. New hair for the new direction my life is taking me.
Today I took the plunge…
I am such a knob.
Anyway, I bloody love it.
And I bloody love this:
You wouldn’t think we were going through the worst week of our lives. That little boy there is the reason for our smiles. Our wonderful Son.
Onwards and upwards.