Having a hat of a time!

In Oncology I cannot pass the hat shop without dipping into my purse, in fact I have to plan hat buying time into my visits. Last week I spied a purple and red one...

I need it I told Rachael as I treated her to my hat buying grin. It is getting colder and it will match my coat...


I used to think hats were for wimps and when I rambled around the country I refused to cover my head unless the ground was winter white! But having no hair has thrown me into a playground of hats! I spend hours hat browsing on Amazon then watch with glee as the postman slides them through the letterbox and grab what I can when Accessorise have their 70% sale. 







Some have rain protecting brims, others are cosy warm wool, one has a feather and a few are just because I couldn't live without them!  






Each day I pick one out with care, a colour to complement my outfit and thickness to match the temperature outside. Then I do my mirror-look test before I leave the house.

I have inside hats too and as the evenings get colder Mr H often exclaims my little Eskimo you do make me smile.....as I lie on the settee, a thick woolly hat on my head, scarf round my neck and blanket wrapped around me. The cancer treatment has stolen my body heat. 




I have a wedding coming up and am in a hat war with my sister in law. I know I will win! Although I have given her a hat start by declaring my hat wearing head...

When the clouds are grey a rainbow of colour brightens my day. 

I am having a hat of a time. 

I want a kink in my follicles...

Chemotherapy has two potential benefits I tell my friends; kicking the cancer into touch and putting a kink in my follicles...

I tell everyone I meet that I want a kink in my follicles... that and to be a red head!

So now that the hairs are poking through I do a daily inspection for a curly one...

Can't see any at the back...

difficult to get a skyline view ...but nope none there either...

But hang on a follicle watching minute...is that grey one a bit bent? 

Yippee!!

Now about this red head...

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!

Myriam comes to my hairy rescue...

They're growing I groan to Mr H 

What are?

Look! I say as I shove my shin in front of his face in bed...they've got a cheek ... and I've cancelled all my waxing appointments.

Chemo cycle by chemo cycle my head is making the transition from a fluffy peach to a pale nectarine. Some of my eye lashes have gone down the plug hole but while I now use an eyebrow pencil to complete my eyebrows, I still have to pluck hairs which sneakily sprout underneath...

As if that wasn't bad enough, my upper lip has started a summer campaign to raise money for Mens Health in Movember. If I don't act soon I will be eating moustache hairs for breakfast.

So I amble up the road to see Myriam. I am at risk of infection at the moment  I tell her as  I pull my own towel out of a bag and lay it on the couch. Myriam smiles understandingly as she puts her own away before she cleans her hands with alcohol gel and brings out new wax rollers

My goodness girl Myriam declares as she glides her roller over my legs, a cricket pitch! 

And with each pull I wave goodbye to my hairs...




for now 




When Mr H saunters in from work he grins as he runs his hands over my bronzed, baby smooth legs...

Hair today...gone tomorrow

When Mr H rang me in the week I announced I will be feck'n thrilled when my hair falls out 

Why he giggled

Because washing it is like doing an aerobic workout without good legs to support me...

You see at the moment I can't wet the PICC line in my right arm (I cover it with a plastic sleeve) and I still have to keep my left breast dry as the nipple has not completely healed. So I shower on my bath seat with a flexible shower clutched in my wet fist.  When I am done the bathroom floor is a swimming pool...and I am a semi wet, worn out rag.

Each morning I check my brush for stray hairs. None. Again! I am ready...well as ready as an astronaut when he sits in the rocket awaiting blast off for his first trip into the unknown.

I suggested to Mr H that we checked out wigs before my first chemo...

...at the wig shop, as my smile broadened Mr H dropped his shoulders and joined in the fun....

I posted pictures on Facebook and asked friends to vote on their favourite!  

In the end I chose an NHS wig in a shop recommended by the Oncology Centre and better still free of charge...but I might get a red one to go with it!







I have filled a box with a rainbow of soft hats and scarves. I am already the Queen of Hats!.....

I started this year with a plan to grow my hair, but Lois has now cut it; the same style as my wig...less to fall out! 










On Day 16 of my first Chemo cycle I ran my fingers through my hair and strands silently drifted out...

Today is Day 17 -  Clumps fell out this morning and my scalp is sore and feels like it is sun burnt.


When I sit in front of the laptop to type this blog, I absent-mindedly tease my fingers through the top of my head. Like clouds releasing snow, some of my follicles have opened and hair drifts into my hands and onto my lap and shoulders. I collect a little pile on my knee...

I didn't need Chemotherapy for my Meningioma Brain Tumour, but the surgeon shaved a U shape into the top of my head each time I had surgery so I have some experience of the growing back bit!

Organise, don't agonise

Nancy Pelosi