EW EW EW THERE IS A DEAD RAT IN THE BATH - oh, no, wait. As you were. It's just ol' Burt again.
Useful Suggestions for hair loss have now expanded to include tea cosies. "A cat-shaped tea cosy," was the helpful addendum. You know what, we actually used to have one of those, but it didn't survive the last move. Ah, well. And then my friend Stuart posted a picture of his late wife wearing a tea cosy, so maybe it's not such a silly idea after all.
I have a young lady named Sam coming to the house on Monday to cut whatever hair she may be able to find by that time. She charges £20 for the service, and at this rate that'll work out at about £1 per hair, but never mind. I have put a buff on my Amazon wishlist, having first had to Google to find out what it was, and a friend has offered to bring me back a bandanna from Lanzarote - although I think the subliminal message there was 'Yay, I'm going to Lanzarote!', and who can blame her?
Okay, here is the Moral Story I was too tired to post yesterday -
Oh, wait: the Churchill has just phoned, their left hand, as usual, not knowing what their right is doing, wondering why I didn't have a post-chemo follow-up last time. (Answer: I did.) I'm glad Judy answered the phone, I really don't have the energy to deal with them. Mind you, it's a wonder she does, she's been working on the final revisions to her doctoral thesis all the time she's been running me backward and forward to hospital and generally being the all-round caregiver.
- Moral Story. Warning: this is the sort of thing that some people find inspiring, and makes other people want to throw up. I tend to fall into the latter camp. And yet, I share:
A woman looked into her mirror one day and saw that she had only three hairs left. (On her head, Little My, on her head, I cannot emphasise this strongly enough.) "Ah," she said, "today I shall wear my hair in a braid!"
The next day, when she looked, she had only two hairs. "Fine," she said, "I'll wear my hair in bunches."
On the third day, she had only one hair left, and so she wore it in a ponytail.
At last, she looked in the mirror, and found she was totally bald. "Hurrah!" she said. "Now I don't have to bother styling my hair any more!"
And the moral of this story - I told you there was one - is: attitude is everything. Although it might as easily be "whatever that woman was on, I want some of it."
I'll shut up about hair loss now. Maybe tomorrow I shall have Amusing Chemo Anecdotes, but, actually, I plan to sleep through as much of it as I can.
In the meantime: I do believe it's time for drugz. CODEINE, YAY!
... no, I don't think I have a problem. Well, okay, I might do, but I don't care.
