My last...

This is my last Monday with hair.

It occurred to me, as I woke up, that this is the last Monday I will wake up with my hair. Ridiculous. But I am ridiculous and a little autistic in some respects on lots of things (I tend to think 'this time last week/month/year' a lot. I like to order my life like that. Numbers are important).

I will probably wake up tomorrow and Wednesday and Thursday with this thought. And then, after Wednesday, I will wake and think 'this is my last suchandsuch a day before I start having chemo and my body is full of Domestos'.

It's not entirely healthy. But then again, I am not an entirely healthy person right now...

I have stayed away from reading anything by other cancer sufferers' experiences with chemo et al too. I accidentally read a small part of another blog about breast cancer. Although I found it very entertaining and hugely respected the woman, it scared me. I am obviously a little in denial, or perhaps it is just me not yet 'knowing' what it is all going to be like. She had an awful experience with chemo...and this is why I haven't read anything by sufferers...because I want to be ignorant. I want to go in to this thing with my eyes shut a little...I expect the worst, though hope for the best...and reading other peoples' experiences won't allow this.

I am obviously shit scared.

It's a big deal. Bravado and a sense of humour is not going to cover up the fact that I am going to be really poorly sometimes. I know I have written this, I do know it is going to happen, but I am truly not really ready for it. I am giving myself a hard time...I can't know until I get there...but I don't do poorly very well. I am a pretty healthy and robust woman. I am not ill often...and when I am puking, I want my mum (which is pointless, because she can't help me).

See, I am not all attitude and humour. I am human and fallible.

Let's keep our fingers crossed that I don't suffer as badly as this other woman did...because the thought of it gives me goosebumps and tummy pain. No amount of bravado and joking is going to stop me being poorly...

Actually, best friend has been the avid reader and researcher. She is a star and I trust her judgements...she has scoured the internet, forums and blogs for things of interest and come up with some gems for me....she has also given up smoking. I have tried to make up her before...and she has never wanted to. Anyone who wants to give up smoking has to want to stop smoking. Best friend didn't. Until she heard the words 'You have got cancer' come from the lips of Scouse. She said she doesn't want to hear those words directed at her in the future...and for it to be her fault because she has smoked most of her adult life. I am very proud of her, because I know how difficult it was...

...she has also made the completely crazy decision to jump out of an aeroplane for Macmillan Cancer and raise a few sheckels. Best friend is mad. My breast cancer has obviously made her worse...anyway, I fully support her and will help her fund raise. Best friend: good on you girl. I am double-proud of you.

On top of this, she wants to be my chemo-buddy. I imagine she got this term from an internet trawl. Is it like an HIV buddy? Or a childbirth buddy? Anyhow, she wants to be there when the drip goes in and take care of me...I wonder if she can understand how much this means to me?

She says it gets her out of going to work. I think this is a partial lie. I think it is because she is an amazing person and a very, very good friend. And she doesn't want to go to work sometimes...

I am triple-proud of her.

Off to live my last Monday without hair and my second-last Monday before chemo begins...