Ta-ra hair

One thing that I hate most about all of this is how the bastard is trying to take control of my life. Trying being the operative word here! From being hospitalised from the pain of it fighting back against treatment, to isolating myself from everyone because of my low immune system. I felt it was digging in its long, unfiled, dirty, nails into me and exerting its control. So I decided to take some control back, starting with a hair cut! Obviously the big thing with chemotherapy and the stand out feature of cancer is the hair loss, in the grand scheme of things not a big deal right? But the thought of my hair coming out – as dry and frizztastic as it is, would be soul destroying. And although my consultant said he doesn't think it will all fall out, I didn't want to take that chance, I didn't want to have to unclog it from the shower plug or see it on my pillow when I wake up in the morning so I went and booked myself in for an 'intensive trim'. I thought this would be tough, i'm not saying it was easy, but watching my hair fall to the floor I felt triumph, I was sticking two fingers up to the cancer and it felt great.