One day in, nothing interesting going on, so let’s have look at some of the chemo-related happenings of the last 3 weeks.
In order to educate you scruffy little mongrels, and get me some more rampant pity-sex from the Facebook community, let’s have a light-hearted talk about side effects.
As everyone is aware, there are two main side effects of Chemo: Feeling like shit and hair loss.
Let’s start with ‘feeling like shit’.
Other than tiredness, the primary side effects when recovering from a round of Chemo are feeling like having your kidneys punched whilst trying to pass a boiled egg. Now, fortunately, I had already experienced these sensations at private school. Unfortunately, the skills/wisdom that I learnt from these occasions were not, in this case, transferable (i.e. Running very, very fast and avoiding eye contact with the Head Boy’s favourite hen). Morphine, Codiene, sleep and a guilty addiction to Veronica Mars and Jethro Tull do help though. As do boobs……… Just putting it out there. Yeah.
And that’s all I really have to say about that….
On to hair loss!
It actually started falling out at my father’s sixtieth birthday dinner a week ago. There’s something remarkably unfair about watching your 60 year old dad dance around with his full head of hair while you hobble after him with a cane while your hair falls out. When I asked why I was aging instead of him, he just replied: “I’m complicated”. Hmmmm……
The beard was first to start coming out as I like to stroke my beard and giggle quietly to myself.* The inevitable train of thought then led to the slightly shocking yet entrancing activity of pulling clumps of hair out of my own head. Now family and friends could cut out the middle man and simply pull my hair out themselves (you know who you are).
It did lead to some tremendous fun in the face of bad customer service. Screaming and pulling out handfuls of hair trumps all. Also good for traumatising children on the Park and Ride and clearing out the Camb Uni Nuclear Physics Department.
Eventually I bit the bullet and washed my hair on Monday. The shower looked like a puppy had exploded in it. A fat, hairy, Tresemmé-soft puppy. It was an experience.
Basically, most of the hair on my head has fallen out, but not the slower growing hair everywhere else. Yet. Cytotoxins (Chemo) attack fast growing cells, such as cancer, hair, stomach lining and the pallet. Think about follicles and you’ll understand why some hair falls out before others. 10 points for a correct answer.
So I scrubbed my already fairly short hair and watched in awe as my arms went all Teen Wolf and my head went all Teen Worf (more pasty head, less ponytail, all Klingon). Thus I cried out: “I Love The Beavers! [15 points for stating why]……Today was not a good day to dye!”
Sorry.
As anyone who has met me will know – I use Tresemmé (because I’m worthless). The new baldness thing has left me with industrial quantities of shampoo and conditioner and no hair on my head to use it on.
I am now soft and full bodied in all the right places. Rawr.
El ChemWolf
Scream. Yank. Drop hair on floor. Repeat.
“Sir, I think you should go to a doctor!”
“Nah, it’s just my winter coat coming out– now where’s my refund?!”
* Even first-class villains have to build up to these things. I also like to tie Space Marine miniatures to my model train tracks. Now I just need to save up for a Thomas, a Percy and a new top hat. I am also interviewing for a backing pianist with their own speech cards. Must work well in monochrome.
Way too much effort for such a lame gag. Spot the spliff
You know who’s really running this show….
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