Today was the day. 261 days since I last had a hair cut. 261 days since my lovely hairdresser cropped me to chemo chic in preparation for the great shedding. Co-incidently, today has also been my first non hospital related trip out since last week’s surgical shenanigans. And what finer way to spend my first outing, I ask you? Two delicious cups of coffee, endless chatter from my darling hairdresser (who’s official verdict on my hair was ‘It really is mad, isn’t it?’) and an hour of feeling utterly normal.
I am seeing him again before the Captain and I take to the waters and head off into the wide blue yonder for a few months. We have plans for a few highlights and colourful whatchamacallits. Meanwhile, here is the finished result as promised. Pleased does not come close: