Chemo Hair Loss: When it doesn't quite all fall out!

I am sorry to keep starting these posts with the same phrase, but it really is the difference between what you think you expect and what really happens that makes life interesting. So, way back when all this started, I was warned that it was not unlikely that my hair would fall out with the chemotherapy. I was given a voucher for a wig, which I duly used (see previous post), and I spent an enjoyable afternoon, and rather a lot of money, buying hats on the internet. I was also told about the ice packs (frozen to -28C and forced on to your head) which are designed to minimise hair loss. I opted for that - horrid though it is - and hoped for the best.

I have written previously about when the hair started falling out, and the emotional impact of that. However, quite quickly it seemed to fall out less, and soon there was minimal hair loss. I was thrilled.  This was a doddle. Thank God for good, strong, Mediterranean hair. However, what nobody had warned me about was that hair loss tends to be clumpy. You don't get a nice, even thinning of the thatch; you get bald patches and relatively normal patches. I sighed at this when it happened, but decided I could cope: Arthur Scargill's comb over (that dates me!) was as nothing to mine. And still, neither hat nor wig had been used.

Now, however, we are into a new phase. I can only describe it as yukky hair phase. My normally healthy, bouncy hair looks as if it comes from the underside of a wild goat on a really bad day. In other words, there is no life, no body, nothing to really comb over. It is still there, in its patches, but it looks dreadful. I DO NOT LIKE THIS. Then a thought occurred: I had a really good look at my skin. It looked poor. I felt it carefully. There are little bumps; not quite pimples, more like incipient blackheads, although there is nothing to see. No amount of conditioning of both hair and skin seems to make any difference.

Now, of course, none of this matters. All being well, there are only six weeks to go before this is all over. Only three and a half until I have had the last dose (oh the champagne I plan to drink that night!!!). And soon after all of this will start to get better, and eventually, I am sure, it will all come back to normal. However, if you are just starting out on this journey, be warned. It isn't all or nothing, and I'm not sure whether all would not have been preferable to this. Perhaps I ought to go and get my hair shaved off? Serious question. Truth is, I'm not quite sure I can face that. And, anyway, from a distance it just looks as if I'm having a bad hair day. So, if you see me out, just pretend I'm having a bad hair day and ignore me. Thanks.