Living with Molly: Here We Go Again!

🎵Taylor Swift – Shake it off! (https://youtu.be/nfWlot6h_JM?si=l6pjfr_D0dGkzSx6)

I meant to write this a couple of days ago, but I’ve ended up full of a cold and have been desperately trying to ‘shake it off’ before my chemo starts.

See what I did there? 🤧🤣

First up, Saturday’s blood tests. A 90-minute wait because there were only two phlebotomists working.

Phlebotomists. My big word of the day, that one.

There was also a revelation. For the last 18 years, I’ve always protected my left arm because I had all the lymph nodes removed from that side during Molly the original. No blood tests, needles or blood pressure cuffs have gone anywhere near it.

Turns out the advice around this isn’t quite as black and white as I’ve always thought, and depending on your circumstances it can sometimes be used. Who knew? Not me, anyway. And apparently none of the nurses I’ve encountered over the last 18 years either!

Anyway. Enough about arms. This one’s about hair.

I did consider trying the cold cap during chemotherapy. For anyone who doesn’t know, it freezes (kind of) your scalp before, during and after chemo to reduce the amount of chemotherapy reaching the hair follicles, which can help reduce hair loss – but it isn’t guaranteed. You can still lose hair or end up with patchy or thinner hair, it can cause headaches and discomfort, and it adds extra time to an already long treatment day.

Given that my hair is pretty fine to start with, I’ve now decided it’s not for me. If I had long, thick hair I might have given it a go, but I’ve done chemo before and really don’t think I want to add several hours sitting there with a freezing cold hat clamped to my head if I don’t have to. So…..knowing the hair loss is coming, I decided to take control of it instead.

After finally getting my hair into a really good place thanks to my lovely hairdresser, obviously the sensible thing to do was chop it all off and completely change the colour.

Amy, stop reading now.

Initially, I had visions of fabulous unicorn colours, then I decided I wanted a pink pixie cut. So off came the hair late on Thursday, and actually, blonde and short, it looked pretty cute.

Which obviously meant I then inexplicably decided to dye it brown. I have no explanation for this decision.

Cue helpful family feedback along the lines of:

“You look like a bloke who’s put a box dye over his greys and his comb-over.”

Excellent.

Exactly the glamorous pre-chemo transformation I was aiming for. Thankfully my daughter stepped in with a reddish toner and saved the day. It’s now much warmer, much less middle-aged-man-with-a-comb-over, and I actually quite like it cos it makes my eyes bluer. Husband doesn’t.

Will I mess with it again before it falls out? Almost certainly.

Will Amy ever forgive me? Possibly not.

Does any of it really matter? Nope!

Because tomorrow is the big one.

Chemo starts.

Save Sam Plan V2 is officially about to get underway.

So for tonight, I’m going to try and shake off this bloody cold once and for all, enjoy my slightly-red-pixie-cut-whatever-colour-it-is-now hair while I’ve still got it, and relax!

Sam x