Today I’m for the chop. The hair chop. And I’m a bit apprehensive.
I spoke to an old friend
about it last week. “You had short hair when I met you,” he said. “Yes,” I
replied “but that was in 1994!”
In fact, I worked it out and
I’ve not had short hair since 1995. That’s a LONG time ago. A lot of things
were different then:
Hollyoaks was on the telly,
Take That were in the charts, we had a Conservative government ... Oh. Hang on ... ;-)
But before I see the
hairdresser there is the small matter of my pre-chemo assessment. So I'm up
with the larks and off Charing Cross Hospital for a few tests and other
administrative bits and pieces. Then, if everything is as it should be, we're
all set to start tomorrow afternoon.
Wish me luck!