On October 15th, 2009, two years ago, I had my final (I hope) chemotherapy session.
Bald as a billiard ball I progressed to five weeks of radiotherapy and, during that time, small fluffy strands of hair started to appear, like peach fuzz.
By January 2010 my heart was broken (that’s a whole other story) but my hair was a centimetre long. In March that year my friend Deidre trimmed off the ends. Loath as I was to part with the tiniest wisp of my new hair, Nurse Lottie had insisted that this must be done because the first growth would be full of chemochemicals and generally ‘rubbish’.
Since then I have not had cut it at all. Not once. Now that all must change. It’s time to bite the bullet and venture forth to the hairdresser. Much as I’m looking forward to hanging out with the lovely Kell Skott and his equally lovely wife Jacqui, I simply can’t bear to sacrifice my hard won hair in vain. No! If it’s going to be cut, it’s going to be cut for a cause.
The Haven is a wonderful sanctuary for anyone with breast cancer. They helped and cared for me during my difficult year of breast cancer. Please sponsor my BIG BIANNUAL HAIRCUT by donating to the Haven.
|For illustrative purposes only – actual result may differ|