So Friday was my second chemo session and hopefully the day I was going to have the chance to choose my wig. Well the early start we envisaged for various reasons never materialised so it was straight to bloods on arrival. That set the theme for the day, as it followed the usual hunt the elusive vein scenario I’ve become used to. After two painful attempts they got what they needed, meanwhile my right arm was cheerfully displaying a lovely juicy set of veins. The problem is though once you’ve had lymph nodes removed the corresponding arm becomes redundant when it comes to injections, blood samples and even blood pressure tests for fear of infection and the onset of lymphoedema. This puts increased pressure on the remaining arm, so if your veins won’t play ball you’ve got problems.
Anyway bloods done, I headed off to pick up my anti-sickness pill ahead of the main event at 2pm. This meant we had time to grab some lunch, while I still felt like it. It also meant that after lunch I had the chance to visit the wig department we had an hour to kill before chemo (or 3 as it turned out).
So off we went. It turns out they don’t do a lot of short wigs so that reduced the choices, and then came the choice of colour. As the stylist could just about deduce from what was left of mine that it was dark, she was surprised when I said “I’d like blonde please”. She wasn’t sure, but I had been a bottle blonde about 20 years ago for several years so it wasn’t such a bizarre choice. Luckily she actually had one in that colour as someone had ordered one and not collected it, so I could actually try that one on without having to second guess exactly what the colour would look like. OH surprisingly liked it, and said it made me look younger – so result for both of us. However just to make sure we tried a couple more, the one with realistic roots was rejected – if I have to wear a wig I don’t want to look like somebody who can’t be arsed getting her roots done. The next one was also rejected out of hand when OH said I looked like Deirdre Barlow. So the first one it was, and after a few snips by the stylist to shorten the fringe so I could actually see – my new image was boxed and ready to come home.
So I guess you want to see it now? Well before that I felt that as this blog was supposed to reflect my experiences honestly, I should actually show a before and after. My last blog talked about my hair loss but I shied away from showing it which was probably a cop out. So not to elicit sympathy or pity, but to reflect the reality of hair loss, here’s the before:-
And now by the magic of monofibre filaments meet Molly in all her platinum gold glory
Still needs a bit of styling and I didn’t look my best today, but a vast improvement on the before as far as I’m concerned.
So I came home a happy bunny, despite a two hour delay for my chemo, with you’ve guessed it two more painful attempts to find a vein in my hand this time for the cannula. So it looks like I’ll soon be the owner of a newly installed Hickman Line in about two weeks. This of course comes with it’s inevitable list of of jolly possible problems – punctured lung, infections, septicemia, hey but at least I’ll have workable veins and can wave goodbye to the regular painful needlefests.