Move over Demi!

I stood in the shower watching the clumps of hair just washing down from my head over my body to the plug hole. I expected it...but it was still a shock to see so much. I tried to dry and style my hair carefully but every brush, every iron, saw handfuls slipping out. I spent the day picking hair from my clothes...so did my family. On Saturday, I looked into the mirror knowing it had to go. I couldn't go another day wondering if one large gust of wind would leave me standing bald and embarrassed! The appointment was set. I was set...I thought! It is a hard decision to make...shaving your head. Was I jumping the gun? Should I wait longer...try some comb overs? It's worked for Donald Trump and the Baldy Man for years!

With doubts in mind I made my way to the hairdressers. Francis of Galston offer an excellent service for people just like me. I cannot thank their staff member Kylie enough. With such compassion and professionalism she has guided me through the ins and out of choosing and fitting a wig. I cannot recommend them enough!

I sat in the chair, the door was locked, no-one was coming in! I quietly voiced my concerns...was I doing this too soon...should I wait longer...keep me, being me just for a while more? But Kylie could see I hated the hair falling out, I hated that I couldn't colour it (and it sooo needed coloured) and with a few words I knew I was doing the right thing. She said what I needed to hear. She said that this was ME taking control...not the bloody chemotherapy! I chose the time, and I was doing it before feeling that I had had no other choice!

Kylie said she often turns people away from the mirror, shaves their head and fits their new hair. When they turn back they don't need to think about the trauma of losing their hair. I guess my choice to watch through the whole procedure was about knowing that when I got home, I would still have to look in the mirror anyway. I would look and choose to see a strong character like Demi Moore in GI Jane!

So it was done...

I can't lie, a few tears were shed when I thought about how my children would feel. But like the diagnosis, like the surgery, like the need for chemotherapy, I have to move to a place of acceptance. It's another step forward in this process, in this journey. 

Kylie's job was done. I looked in the mirror and yes I looked like me again!