Cancer brings with it a list of ‘firsts’ for you to gleefully tick off as you go! Tonight on my list, I got to wash my wig for the first time. CHECK….
I procrastinated for about two hours. I wanted to but daren’t. Scared I’d damage it and be bald forever more. Eventually I donned shorts and a vest and got into the family shower which is a walk in one and went for it. Carefully and meticulously massaged the shampoo and hair balm into the ‘real hair’ whilst ensuring the water had as little contact as possible. I could feel my heart beat through the steam in the bathroom. Echoes of fear pumping against the moisture. I rang the water out of it like a hand washed garment. It looked OK. It survived! I put it back on my head to determine the parting and tentatively introduced my wet locks to the hairbrush. Just for a second – literally a second – the mirror reflected the old me back. I was looking at myself in the mirror brushing ‘my hair’ and I got a stab of how I used to be. How I used to look after getting out the shower. Wet tresses being tamed and coaxed back into their place. A bittersweet moment. I won’t lie. I went and got a glass of wine.