One for the girls

I’ve discovered a wonderful support group of friends.  You know deep down they’re there all the time and it really doesn’t take much of a crisis for them all to rally round.  G and I sat and chatted not long after the cancer was confirmed and decided my hair had to go.  Not completely – its demise would come in its own time, maybe three weeks into the chemo – but as its days were definitely numbered, it would be easiest to start with it short.  Smaller handfuls when it goes, you see.  And maybe less of a shock.  So the girls came round with the tools of the trade and cut my hair by good humoured committee.  I now have a stylish new look which shows off all my earrings; it’s just a shame it’s not going to last too long.

The next job was to choose a replacement and T and I duly went to the wig shop, NHS prescription in hand.  Now this was fun.  Continue reading