Going to bed with puffy eyes does not help the look when you wake up (just for info!). I wake up with puffy eyes and that doesn’t help my mood. The man cub says I have a bald patch the size of a 10p at the back of my head. Great.
It was a gruelling morning. I was barely holding it together. The puffy eyes were making me feel like I could cry at a moments notice. Not helpful. I managed something useful, sending presents to the bestie and kids, and I even managed to buy some presents – go me! Back at work, I can literally feel hair falling out when I move. My whole head is so sore and I can’t focus on anything. But I get my second card from my amazing colleague (with a note on the envelope to say its not a Christmas card!). It had ‘Cancer is an arsehole’ on the front and it nearly floored me right there, but also reminded me that I was dealing with an absolute arsehole and I had to view it that way.
I still haven’t decided what to do tomorrow, do I cold cap or not. If I don’t then I face more hair loss and ultimately do I just need to shave it. The man cub reminded me when we got home that it had mentioned in cold capping literature that I could sit under the cold cap for longer if I wanted to try and keep hair. Which would also bring back those crippling headaches. And I’m also not sure that I could deal with longer brain freeze.
I just can’t bite this bullet. Why? Why? Why? And I can’t explain this to anyone. Everyone is different. Everyone would deal with this differently – I’ve seen that through the FB page that people tackle this in their own way, and I will never judge anyone’s decision as it is unique. It is possibly the hardest decision I have ever approached and need to make. And I can’t bloody make it.
Evening and cub in bed, and man cub informs me the bald patch is visible. It looks ridiculous and I know it won’t grow back (the lady garden is proving that, as are the armpits!). Chemo tomorrow and I’ll be winging it again at this rate if I don’t make a decision.
The man cub and I spend three hours going back and forth over the decision I need to make. I keep thinking I’ll make the decision tomorrow, but deep down I know I need to make it now, and go to bed knowing its done.
11pm, and exhausted with the merry go round of conversation, I finally admit to myself and the world that I know what I need to do. I need to shave it. I need to accept its going, take it off and reduce the distress I am feeling around seeing the loss. I need to reduce my distress so I can focus on my baby girl and not be absorbed by this. I need to take some control and be strong with the new look. I need to stop tormenting myself and having the same conversation when I can actually stop this. I don’t want to do the same thing in three weeks time with more hair loss.
After a funny nights sleep and a far too early alarm, we left in preparation for the day ahead. I had a very quick conversation with the cub about removing my hair and what that might look like – she was still half asleep – she just looked at me and gave me a kiss!.
After dropping the cub at the school gate, I dropped into my hairdresser (coincidentally directly opposite the school) and asked my lovely Anna whether she could see me that afternoon to take my hair off. She could see the shake on me, and offered a 4pm appointment that day. Decision made.
We headed for the hospital, and ducked into Macmillan’s office to get some head scarves. As is our luck it was shut!! Of course it is! Couldn’t make up our luck!!
I got on the ward, and the nurse allocated for today said ‘cold cap?’. Nope. No I am not. I have took control apparently. The nurses were great and right behind me. Couldn’t have felt stronger at that moment. But then, as it was quicker to the drug stage, I suddenly felt it all. And it was brutal. Every single vial that went through me (including the awful red one) was felt running though my veins. My wrist and arm were twitching and I totally got that the cold cap had distracted me last time. But I was done and dusted in two hours and we were back home by 12.30.
Emotionally exhausted from the previous few days, last nights conversation and the road ahead, we had a cheeky lie down in bed and woke up at 3.30 with the man cub in a panic that we needed to get to the hair appointment. It was probably the best way to spend the time waiting for this moment of reckoning.
At the hairdressers Anna did her thing as she always does. She knows I don’t chatter and she just sat me down and started chopping the majority off before the clippers appeared. At that point the owner of the salon, Yvonne came over, sat at the side of the mirror and started chatting. Just general, and then more about my journey. And all the while the man cub was sat off to on side watching and Anna took the clippers to my head. I didn’t have a tear, I didn’t look in the mirror. I sat there, chatted and lost my hair.
What I hadn’t realised or anticipated was that my head was bloody freezing!!! As soon as I stood up from the chair, I felt the draft, but luckily as its winter a woolly hat doesn’t look amiss. As I went to pay, I was knocked back and told to come back whenever I was ready. That nearly made me cry!! Buggers!!
We picked the cub up from after school club and took her home. Before I took the woolly hat off, I sat down with her and reminded her of the brief conversation that morning. She lifted up my hat, laughed in my face, then pulled it back on my head as ‘it must be cold mammy’. God, I love her. And because she is fine, I am fine. I have took back control (as much as previous days I doubted this feeling). I have had no tears tonight, and much as I’ll have mirror moments, I have this now.
I have control back. I have this. The house is a tip, Christmas isn’t prepared. But I have this.