Back in the sixties I went to see the hippy musical Hair in London’s West End. Theatre censorship had just been abolished so we young Londoners flocked to it. One critic said “Its honesty and passion give it the quality of a true theatrical celebration – the joyous sound of a group of people telling the world exactly what they feel.”
My reminiscing was brought about by my hair – or rather lack of it. Fed up with clearing out the shower drain, clearing hairs from every brush, every hat, and every surface of my clothing, I called my hairdresser and asked her to shave it all off. She gave me an immediate appointment so I didn’t have too much time to think about it. I didn’t want to sit in the salon, so she took me into a backroom where she did the deed, and I emerged wearing my wig. And bless her, she didn’t charge me for it!
So now I am shorn. I love my wig but it’s a bit uncomfortable to be honest. I will wear it when we go out for a meal, or to some event where I am likely to encounter strangers, but I feel most comfortable in my turbans. I dug out a selection of brooches to pin on the front. I have to admit to a sharp intake of breath when I first saw my bald head, and so far, no-one else (except Jo the hairdresser) has seen it, not even Bob.
I went to choir last night wearing one of my turbans, and really enjoyed singing my heart out for the first time in three weeks. The choir is practising for a concert next Friday and I hope to be able to make it.
But first I have to get through tomorrow’s chemo session. Today I have been preparing my nutritious juice for my fast, which starts today. I was given a recipe, but I am terrible at following recipes, so I always make up my own. Basically, it’s sling as many vegetables (especially brassicas, leeks, onions) as you can find lurking in the fridge into a slow cooker and forget about them for several hours. Then strain the juice and drink it during the fasting period.
I was listening to Radio Five Live this morning. A group of young women bloggers were talking about their cancer and the blogs they write.
Listening to those young women, and thinking about my own progress, I have slowly come to realise that cancer doesn’t stop life. Far from it – it is actually enhancing mine. Sure, it’s a drag having to deal with seemingly endless medical appointments, and sometimes other stuff happens to add to the stress, but on the whole, I am mentally stronger (due in no small part to my family and friends) and physically fitter (due perhaps to my diet and my daily walks) than ever. I seem to be one of those who doesn’t get affected too badly by the chemo (though I’ll review this idea after the weekend!)
So if you are facing this journey, face it in the knowledge that though the journey may be long, it’s not as grim as you might imagine. Lots of good things happen.