First up we saw the wig lady. She was very nice and showed me the catalogue and colour samples, all of which had ludicrous names. My best match is 'Buttered Toast' (?) Mr P. then got carried away and started offering his own variations: "Butternut Squash!" (Honestly, you can't take him anywhere ...)
I'm going to pick a couple of styles and she'll bring them to the hospital for me to try on. All of the wigs are subsidised but, depending on which range you choose from, you pay a contribution of up to £75. Obviously I'm hoping that I won't need to wear one but, at that price, it's worth getting one just in case.
Then into treatment. It really was exactly as the nurse had described. The cold cap does look ridiculous and mine was made to look even more daft with little chunks of swabbing inserted for comfort. They also slick your hair back with conditioner first to protect it because it does get frozen. Fortunately my hair is very thick and insulating but, conversely, I do wonder if that might limit the cap's effect?
Anyway, it was VERY cold. But I'd been warned that the first 10 minutes are the worst [they were] and then you get used to it [I did]. Luckily I had Mr P. to distract me and feed me sandwiches. He also introduced me to the delight of Angry Birds on the iPad. I got quite absorbed and, at one particularly awkward level, found myself exclaiming loudly: "Die you f*cker!" Which probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to shout on a cancer ward ...
Three separate drug combinations later and I was free to go home. I've got lots of anti-sickness steroid tablets to take for two days, and an injection tomorrow, but no more medical appointments for three whole weeks.
So all in all, the day went well. And to celebrate we did a little dance, or the 'chemo conga' as I would like it henceforth to be known ... :-)
|Feeling down ... ? Not me!|