Wigging Out

From all the accounts I’ve read, and from what various health professionals have told me, lymphoma chemotherapy is notoriously potent. Part of the reason why the disease is so treatable is because they create a chemo cocktail that really pounds it down. And in return, may pound me down a little too.

One of the side effects of chemo that everrrryone talks about is the hair. Some people get really, really disturbed by the idea of losing their hair. And chances of me losing mine are pretty darn high.

Now, it’s hard to predict how I’ll react to such events, because I suppose pulling out clumps of one’s mane will certainly be upsetting. But I also know myself, and I know that losing my hair probably won’t be the most upsetting part of this whole process.

I’ve never really been attached to my hair like most other girls. When I was 14-years-old, I chopped it ALL off and had it every colour (and I mean every colour) of the rainbow since. I cut my own hair for a long time, never really caring to spend a whole lot of money to get perfect locks.

Actually, in some sick way, I am looking forward to losing my hair. Because it will give me an excuse to rock looks I’ve never been able to achieve with my own hair before. I’ve got my sights set on some pretty funky wigs.

Currently topping the list are:

A very straight short black cut with thick bangs.

A red wig of some sort. Long ones like this are probably expensive, but I figure if I’m going to go red I might as well go bright red ;)

Or hell, maybe I could just go all out.

Hot pink maybe??

Anyways, I am off to surgery in about an hour. They’re cutting into my armpit to take out a lymph node which will hopefully, finally give me a diagnosis. I’ll be all doped up on anaesthesia and pain meds for the next couple days, so don’t worry if I don’t respond to messages and e-mails. See ya on the other side!