Itchy fingers

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There are so many things I’d like to write about: last Sunday and the incredible trip I had with Zsolt, last night’s journey down PMS lane (where I morphed into the Incredible Hulk of hormone induced mood swings and nearly threw a broom out the window – it’s really a terrible broom), this morning’s trip to the mastectomy shop in the middle of an industrial zone where I tried on extra large A and B cup bras and couldn’t believe the drastic different in size compared to my normal bras – it’s just not right when a B cup bra can also fit the entire top of my head, yesterday’s drive through the New Forest with Carole followed by tea in her beautiful garden, my afternoon visit to Ulrike’s and her magical yard of relaxation and picnic tables, the surprise email from my aunt providing a very generous gift for my mom’s peace of mind, or even sipping tea at Trago Lounge with my mother and working out chemo issues – trying to get myself ready for next week’s new adventure . . .

There are so many things to write about. It’s exhausting to consider. And that paragraph must have been exhausting to read. Sooner than later I’ll steal some time to write a proper post.  Sooner. I really need to write again. Much sooner. I also really need to start drawing. My fingers are itching from the inactivity. The creative part of my mind is banging it’s head against the wall.

Time is such a precious thing. I’m craving it more than ever. Tonight or tomorrow. I NEED to start writing.

Oh, this is quite cute

Posted in Bumpboobs, Treatment by

Much to my relief and surprise, short hair isn’t bad on this here girl (me).  In fact, it’s cute.


Around 2.00 pm yesterday, after an acupuncture session and quick lunch at home, Mom and I rolled into the hairdresser’s. Marcelle (my mom) stationed herself on the lounge chair and began to read her book. I was taken to my hair stylist’s station for a chat before the traditional hair wash.

This was not like the wig shop. Not at all. My hairdresser, Becky asked how I was doing, and I replied ‘fine, thanks, but I need to get my hair cut short because I’ll be having some treatments soon,’ following which she prodded further and had me talking about finding the bump, getting the mastectomy, getting ready for chemo etc. She wanted to know how I was, how I found it, everything really. So I told her, because that’s what I do.  But you know, she didn’t have to do any of that – I’ve only had my hair cut with her about two times prior to yesterday.

Say cheeseAnd after our chat, she pulled out a few magazines and we flipped through the models – pointing out styles and discussing what might be best.  It’s really nice when people speak with confidence. I remember my surgeon spoke with confidence about my surgery, which gave me some peace of mind, and yesterday Becky said no problem, my hair is great for going short and my face can support the change. She also suggesting I come round after the chemo, and she’ll take whatever I have and make something great from it.

It was just such a refreshing conversation, so encouraging.

Anyhow, then came the wash, and then came the cutting – but I wasn’t nervous any longer. Actually, I was a bit excited as she snipped away the pieces and gave my hair new shape. She was really conscientious in sculpting my new hairstyle, and even if it only lasts a couple weeks – I’m so glad to have made this change.

To the point: It looks great. She was great. I can 100% recommend her at Shine on University Road, Southampton.

Two thumbs up for my cool new hair. Hopefully I’ll snap a picture soon so it can be posted online. But I have to say, it’s like 1000% better than a wig. Let’s hope it sticks around a little bit longer.


Going short

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I’m getting my hair cut today and going as short as I possibly dare. It feels like lately I’m taking deep breaths and diving into things non-stop. Maybe that explains my recent desire to go swimming all the time.  I’m  totally craving a beach with some cool ocean spray!  Anyhow . . . deep breath – time to get my hair wet. 😉