And guess what? I love it! I feel lighter, and it’s much less hassle. It’s quite liberating, letting go of something that you thought defined the way you look. I call this style ‘mum hair’, but actually it feels quite glam. DH, who has always loved my long hair, says I look classier (I’m now assuming he thought I looked like a straggle-barnetted crack whore before the Chemo Cut, rather than a flame-haired Pre-Raphaelite temptress…). Even better, DH had rung in advance and ‘had a word’ and they gave me a free manicure afterwards as a little treat.
I’ve got another photo too – my old school chum Fi sent me a box of cupcakes from Rebecca’s Cupcakes with my mantra on today. Such a lovely, thoughtful surprise that made me laugh out loud, thank you my gorgeous friend!
So we are all set for tomorrow now. Had a great meeting with my research nurse Celia this morning, who is fast tracking me through all the last-minute tedium and will be joining us tomorrow. It’s a long day – 8am to 6pm – on the ward, cos they have to put four different drugs in, one after the other, with observation periods in between. I’ve seen the ward and there are a lot of comfy chairs next to drip stands, with a telly, so I should be fine having a little natter with the other ‘cancer victims’ (ahem!).
And there’s more good news: all my scans are back and they are all clear, so we know for sure the caaancer hasn’t spread anywhere else, which I was a teeny bit anxious about for some reason.
DH is on nursery and school drop off duty with the kiddies’ dziadziu (Polish grandpa) tomorrow, bless him, and he’s also booked the last two tickets for the new Harry Potter movie this Saturday night while the smalls go back to Salisbury with my mummy and daddy for a weekend minibreak.
Yet another blessing today: a lovely friend came over and did a hypnotherapy session with me so from the start of the treatment I can imagine the chemotherapy as a beam of healing light that simply melts the tumours away like wax or molten metal so they evaporate. Much more useful than thinking of the treatment itself as invasive or scary. Thank you L!
Anyway, wish me luck! Big hugs and kisses and very grateful thanks for all your love and support to all my lovely friends and family. The horses are champing at the bit, and we’re off on the second stage of this awfully big adventure. You’ll probably hear the strains of me shouting ‘fuuuuuuck caaaaaancerrrrr’ as the carriage shoots off.