Why is it that I still can’t look in the mirror and recognise me with no hair. You’d think after four months with no hair, I would have become used to looking like this. But I guess thirty odd (!!) years of looking in mirrors with a head of hair is hard to overcome. But I’m also confused as I went through Uni years with short spiky hair in varying shades of colour. I seem to recall I managed to look in mirrors just fine. I also forget that I look like shite most days as when I am facing someone, my voice is the same, my responses are the same, so why would I look different? And then I happen upon a mirror and recoil in horror. Crikey, this is what everyone else is looking at and I forget it. Ugh.
I’ve also missed a check in call today with my lovely Pauline and now sat here tonight with a sore boob. And my armpit has weird little shooting pains going through it. The paranoia now is real. Every little pain I am feeling I double and triple check myself and can see that I could return to hospital every other day if I went down that route. I mean, I am just getting a bit older (still not celebrating that Birthday). But I am bound to feel life niggles, right?!
It’s half term week off from school this week, so you would think it’s been more relaxed without crazy school this week, but it’s been a bit more stressful. The man cub has been dropping me and the cub off near my workplace for breakfast so I can then walk her to an active camp childcare facility. What that does mean is that I have then had to walk a brisk mile back to work once she is dropped off. Much as this is good for my fitness regime and building up my mileage for the ‘big walk’ but I am also draining. And tonight picking the cub up from the camp, she looked like death warmed up. She was silent in the car on the way home (I mean, welcome silence but very eerie for our child not to talk incessantly). I have a feeling there is trouble afoot!
Woke up this morning with a proper poorly baby. She had nothing about her, was sleepy as, (no sign of tonsillitis which I got caught out with last time she was ill), lethargic and an unexpected day off work for the man cub ensued. I think a bad cold is flooring her, she is proper snotty, but also think she is just run down. She has been full tilt with me on this journey. But surely this has took it’s toll on her. When we are at work she is in breakfast club at 8am,she doesn’t get picked up from fun club until 5.30pm. This happens five days a week. And now I have launched her into long days during a school holiday as we work full time. No wonder she is exhausted and can’t fight a cold. The man cub has had to take the work hit and call in to say he has poorly child and not go in as I have meetings set and can’t in all good conscious take more time off. But at the same time the mama guilt is at an all time high. I have failed her and caused her to be really poorly. Aaaagh.
Tonight we have been talking about Gail Porter! I mean the man cub is in his absolute element! 90’s pin up (House of Parliament projection of a nude Gail Porter image are ingrained in my memory – babies may not remember this!) who faced baldness in her past through stress related alopecia and still looked bloody gorgeous.
The reason for talking about her was that the man cub had seen she had breast cancer diagnosed following a thermogram. A scan that identifies heat sources in the body and these can then be identified as cancer.
I haven’t sent myself down a rabbit warren here. We debated it (without facts) for a good while and then I shut the conversation down. I can’t in good faith do any quantifiable research on this in my headspace and give it enough weight to promote / shut down. I am living my unwritten rule of not dealing with Dr. Google and I will maintain that going forward.
Aunty Kate and Uncle Wills came round today. Was absolutely beautiful and spent a good bit of time catching up, chewing the fat, and reconnecting physically. It was so nice to do and while I didn’t feel ‘ill’, I was reminded again that I look a little bit shit. I know that again my outward voice is the same, but my visual appearance to people is different. As they hadn’t seen me since I got bald, I know it was a shock. They were amazing and as always accepted me and the cub into the man cubs family. I am so lucky to have them in my life.
Lazy like Sundays! I love this. (But also feel a little bit guilty that my lazy Sunday is the result of a poorly cub).
I am the first person up in the house today (absolutely unheard of following a Saturday night drinking sesh!), I potter about, do the housework and the cub finally awakes a wee bit brighter but with a red snotty nose and not loving life still. After a couple of hours, she was flagging again (and i was after an early morning!), so we took ourselves to bed and had a little lie down. Now, let me explain, the cub is a snorer. She denies it but by god it’s true! So I took a little video of her snoring (before I put the phone down and slept alongside her). When she woke up I showed her the video to have a chuckle. Her first words – ‘that wasn’t me mama, you’ve put that noise on there, I’m just sleeping quietly’. Oh yeah baby – I’ve spent my time dubbing videos on my phone while you were sleeping! Save me now!!
But today has reminded me that this journey is not going to define me. I will have this and I will continue to have this.