Children are so kind

“Mum!  What’s that you’re wearing?”   😯   I can’t quite replicate the tone of total repulsion.

“A scarf, my dearest, darling, younger son. It’s catching the bits of hair that are falling out.”

“Well could you please not wear it when you drop me at football tonight.  In fact, you could just stay in the car.”

I bought a buff today, so I swapped the scarf for the buff.  I thought it might be a bit more socially acceptable, with no undertones of curlers in bed.  On second thoughts, the boys are probably too young to know about curlers in bed.  “Is that any better?” 8)

“Ugh, no, it doesn’t suit you!”  That from the older one.  “Thanks, pal!  🙄 Well you’d better get used to it.”

So I asked them what they’d prefer – me wandering around the house like an aged Sinead O’Connor, or me wearing a scarf of some sort.  They opted for the scarf.

I noticed at the weekend that, right on cue, 2 weeks into the chemo, odd strands of hair were parting company with my scalp.  Very odd – far more white that I’ve got on my head, surely.  Must be someone else’s.  By Monday morning my scalp was tingling and there was hair all over the pillow.  By Tuesday it was coming out in handfuls and I was moulting more clumps of fur round the house than the cat.  Hair on my sweater, hair on the keyboard, hair in the shower, hair everywhere except where it should be.  Time for a scarf, before we got hair in the dinner.  Yuk!  It will be gone by the weekend, I reckon.

At least it’s a sign that the chemicals are doing their job.  I’m almost through Round 1 – the next lot starts 0330 on Friday – and I have been frighteningly well.  Long may it continue, although I have a suspicion it won’t.  I was a bit wobbly the weekend after the chemo but that was about it, and I’ve pretty much been able to forget about it for the first time in weeks and get on with other stuff.   There’s been a sense of beginning to get some control over my life again.  I’m already starting to think of things we’ll be doing next spring/summer, and can we book onto that diving trip in May?  On Friday I’ll be 1/6th of the way through the treatment.  It somehow doesn’t sound quite so bad like that, does it? 

13 thoughts on “Children are so kind

  1. I wonder if you should try the fluffy rabbit fur ear muffs that everyone over here (under 21) seems to be wearing? They look like fun…

    Seriously however, aren’t kids awful at times? Youngest just told me that his friend’s mum (or mom) is quite old. But not, he reassures me, as old as you. Gee thanks. I’ll show him – I’ll wear the ear muffs. They don’t like change, that’s all.

  2. If there’s any consolation in it, my Offspring – who is going through a Buccaneering phase right now – was *deeply* impressed with your piratical red scarf yesterday.

    I hope it’s positive to think that the person who springs to mind might be more… Keira Knightley than Hilda Ogden?

  3. Fluffy rabbit ear muffs – must look out for those. I can’t imagine that the boys would be prepared to set foot out of doors with me if I put them on! Your comment reminds me of a visit from one of their friends some years ago. Our house is never very tidy but we were having central heating put in, so upheaval doesn’t describe it. He stood in our kitchen with a look of total disdain on his face and said “My mum would hate this!” I did manage not to slap him.

    But Keira Knightley, though – now that’s something to aspire to. If only I were… well, let’s just stop there and allow the imagination to do its work.

  4. Mmm, I’d forgotten about Samantha. But I do have a hunk who dotes on me (well, at least when I’m not nagging about something). And I’m not talking about the kids.

  5. I think there’s a secret class kids all take at school; ‘how to make your mum feel bad’. Take no notice – and throw a leopard skin scarf over the back of your chair in the morning. You can always threaten to wear it if they aren’t nice…

  6. Kids are so horrifically honest aren’t they. During the summer months I walked downstairs to be met at the bottom with my son’s critical eye, not one word had crossed my lips when he said “go back up Mummy and look in the mirror, you’ll see what I mean”.
    Thinking of you tomorrowx

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