Friday and today is the day I get shorn of my locks. I have time to have a hot water and to have my morning meds but then its time to go to the hairdressers accompanied by my partner. As we are early and had no breakfast we sit in the gym lounge and order food and drinks. It was nice to have the time to relax and nibble through a bacon sandwich before walking through to Bex the hairdresser who has the salon at the gym. She has been my partner’s hairdresser for years and mine too before I decided to grow my hair post chemo the first time.
When we arrived there was another client in the salon being coloured but I was soon beckoned to a chair while the colouring magic was at work on the other client. Of course my partner took a pre cut shot of my hair back and front.
Bex began her work by scissoring off my ponytail and layering out a lot of the bulk in my hair to enable the clippers to go through it. So then the clippers work started with a number 4 to get it all started and when the bulk was off it was changed to a number 3. We chatted the whole time about the effects of chemo and about taking what control I could, so the other client was party to a conversation she probably was not bargaining for this morning. Here’s a short clip of Bex in action.
After all the clipping is done Bex washes my hair and blow dry’s it. When I go to pay she refuses saying she was honoured to have been asked to do it. She is a diamond with a huge heart. My partner and I thank her very much before we leave and make our way to a garden centre for lunch.
By the time we arrive at the garden centre I have ordered a new beard trimmer to keep my face in sync with my head. We also know that my youngest daughter and her partner with our grandchild are all still feeling grotty and unwell from the colds they have had over the last few days so they will not be coming to stay over the weekend. It is a wise decision but of course my partner and I are disappointed, but sometimes its best to be wise. We will find ways around this till the new grandchild arrives over the next four weeks. While at the garden centre I top up my fat ball stock as the birds in the garden have taken to the new fat ball feeder like crazy and we have far more birds in the garden at the moment because of it.
Once home I set about trying to ring the specialist prostate nurses but they are unavailable, I suspect they have been drawn into the flu chaos that is going on in the hospital. I ring the numbers they have on their message service, which are the oncology secretaries but there is no answer and no messages. I try another number and get a message to ring yet another number, which is the actual chemotherapy suit. At last I get through to someone and after the usual name and number giving I end up being told I am on a waiting list and that next week someone will contact me about a nurses talk and only then will I be able to have an appointment to actually start the chemotherapy. My rational self knows about all the constrains, the pressures and the harsh realities of running an in demand service, especially in the middle of a flu epidemic at Christmas time, however it is difficult not to feel that no one else understands the sense of urgency and that as far as they are concerned “if you die you die” before they can get organised to see you. Its the equivalent of ” Fuck off and die” but of course no one really thinks that, except in those moments of stress and feeling overwhelmed by the demands. So the best I can do is wait to be contacted at the start of next week, or not. So I am no closer to starting and as a distraction I order swim wear. My intention is to go the gym to use the pool as I am scared to get on the rower in case I piss blood again like I did last time. I think it was because I trained on consecutive days, but I cannot know for sure. I either have to try again, gently and/or find another form of exercise which my body can tolerate, swimming, or at least walking through water might be my best option. At least with my short hair it will make using the showers and changing area more viable for me. I finish off some odd Christmas shopping and then start to draft the blog by the light of the Christmas tree.
The evening becomes dark and there is Returning to Paradise and Have I Got News for You to look forward to not to mention the new Stranger Things episodes. It feels like it has been a demanding day but really it boils down to a hair cut, so its time to suck it all in and get on with things. So I will relax tonight and take whatever easy options come my way and look forward to an unexpectedly free weekend and to try and fill it with things, or not, whatever feels right. I am sure that there will be unexpected Christmas cards to deal with and the last minute gifts.
