I got my first post-chemo haircut yesterday (as opposed to the No. 1 I gave myself). I hadn't seen my lovely hairdresser since before this shit began. I didn't want to tell her what was going on over the phone as she has lost too many close family members over the last couple of years to various cancers. But she knew as soon as she saw me yesterday that I had had chemo. There still wasn't enough hair for her to do a lot but now it looks like I've got a short cut rather than being pulled through a hedge backwards. And she was so nice - even though it took her the better part of an hour, she refused payment.
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