Hair, hats and scars...

When I was young my hair was thicker than Devon Clotted cream, as dark as a stormy sky and it often fell onto my shoulders in a knotted mass. My older sister Mandy pleaded with me to loose my blue Alice band and at least try bunches...

As I got older I dipped my toe into the style bucket and tried a Purdy cut, went curly with a perm before moving onto the lady Di look, and when the grey hairs crept in during the night, new colours too. But in 2008 - 2009 I lost the hair off the top of my head three times for the brain tumour surgery; so  I merely shrugged my shoulders when the Oncologist said I would loose my hair with the breast cancer Chemotherapy.

More hats I said

Before the first hairs fell out I tucked my golden locks behind my ears, shoved my fringe under a hat and stared at myself in a mirror as I turned from side to side...trying to imagine how I would look as a lollipop sucking Kojak!

Two weeks ago Lois nipped off the last few straggly strands left poking from my soft, white, train tracked head.  

Then Wednesday with a wig wearing grin I held my arm out for the sixth dose of the cancer killing, hair eating drugs.

The last time









I have prepared my family and friends for my combat look by randomly ripping off my wig when my head overheats. 

Let the re-sprouting begin...
"Be thankful for what you have, you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough"

Oprah Winfrey

Except hats...I will never have enough hats!