A couple of nights ago a large wasp made its way into the girls room at bedtime and being the only grown up in the house it fell to me to get it out. Armed with a can of furniture polish I charged upstairs, spraying with wild abandon until the beast was slain. Victory was mine. Mummy the hero! Until this morning when I slipped on the very polished top step and landed on my back. Why are those stairs, and not cancer, my nemesis?!
The girls found me falling over hilarious and struggled to eat their breakfast as the memory if it tickled one of them and sent them both sniggering again.
After dispatching them to a friend's, my eldest sister and I were off to the hospital for chemo round three- the last FEC. While sitting in the chair waiting for chemo to be administered, my sister was busy rummaging in her bag. "What do you need?" I asked.
Caught in her own thoughts she said;: "Hairband. Don't suppose you've got one?"
I patiently waited for her to meet my gaze. "Are you kidding me?!" We cried with laughter.
I'm really embracing being bald. Don't get me wrong, the wig has its perks - I used it to convince a naughty child I was one of Roald Dahl's Witches by taking it off to prove I was one, also when a woman in a shop said she loved the style of the back of my hair so I pulled it off and agreed. Her face was a picture! But baldness feels like me.
Talking of me, me, ME....I was on BBC South East yesterday and absolutely loved it. I'm off to BBC Radio Kent tomorrow for a radio interview too so i'm making the most or my five minutes! One of the best things to come out of the experience is all the messages from people from all walks of life. Thank you to all of you for your words - I appreciate them all.
It's downtime for me now as the chemo tide draws in but give me a few days and i'll have found a surF board and will be riding the wave.