Today has been all about hair. It began with hair removal. You know, just the routine stuff. Slapping a bit of Veet on the bikini line. Running the razor over the legs and arm pits. It is a routine I will not miss. But it did feel odd. Doing it all today. The irony was not lost on me.
I did not plan it this way. It just happened. You see, today I had an appointment at the wig fitters. And it is not every day you get to say that. ‘What are you doing today?’, ‘Oh, nothing much, just popping along for a new syrup.’ It does not run off the tongue, does it? Yesterday, during my pre-chemo chat, I was given a voucher for a wig to take along to a supplier. Gone are the days of NHS Wig Woman hiding in a cupboard somewhere in the bowels of the hospital surrounded by boxes of grey hair pieces all looking much the same. Now, I had to make an appointment and go to the specialist retailer which was by far a much more preferable experience.
Knowing this was coming, I had booked some weeks ago and arranged to take my hairdresser buddy with me. We share much else besides the same hairdresser but it did seem appropriate. Although the pressure was on: ‘Make sure she chooses well!’ our hairdresser charged her. I was guessing this meant that the Donald Trump toupée was out and the 118 scouser look was a definite no no. The look I went for in the end, was as close to my norm as possible. I reasoned that on the days I choose to wear it, I will want to feel like me rather than striking out in a new style. I am going to have buckets of time for new styles once it all begins to grow again.
Before making a decision, I tried on several wigs in many different styles and varying colours. But true to normal shopping form, the first one I tried on was the one I came away with. I have an Attract Petite in Sugared Walnut and am besides myself about it. I have never, but never, owned anything before with petite in its description. This is indeed a moment to savour. I am not sure what the petite bit refers to as my head is on the enormous side. Hats are generally a struggle, even Christmas cracker hats split immediately. So I just cannot wear them. Shame.
How often I shall don my syrup remains to be seen. After only a few minutes wear, and with a layer of hair for comfort, it was still hot and itchy. But at least I now have it as an option. And it is not bad. Not bad at all:
To complete the hair raising experience day, on my return home I decided to book an appointment with HeadStrong, the Breast Cancer Care advisory service for hair loss through breast cancer treatment. That will be happening the day before my first chemo. I will have an hour of one to one tuition on scarf tying and hat wearing. Excellent. I like a hat. It is a fair old trek from our home but the Captain is coming with me – possibly to brush up on his piratical bandana skills – and we will go out for a Last Day Before Chemo Lunch. Sounds like a plan.