Blogging while getting my hair washed…

Here’s a new one

I am blogging from the third chair from the left, while getting my hair washed, at Continental Hair. Warm water is cascading down my hair, while I sit and tap away at a laptop. Am I worried about water falling on the keyboard? Hardly. My hair is in the sink four feet to the left of me.

I am here this morning to have highlights put in my new hair, and maybe have a few more bangs cut. I am also going to get my head shaved, because I’m finding that the amount of hair that is falling out is actually freaking me out more than the thought of a bald head. I have reached that tipping point. I do quite like my faux-hawk, but the bald patches are increasing, and if I have to buy another bottle of Drano for the tub I will feel like an environmental terrorist. I will keep my eyes closed, and they’ll put the wig on, so any emotional reaction to being bald can safely be had later tonight in the privacy of my own bathroom.

I’ll post photos of my of my bald head when Tessa takes them, and only if I am not to spooky-looking.


Last night, my ex-manager and still extremely good friend Leslie Ann came over after work and we had a great visit. Clover barked and went nuts, which he did all over again when James arrived, we had pizza and gabbed and laughed and caught up. I’d like a visit like that every Thursday night, LA. Make a note of it!

Dentalwork on chemo

I have a dentist appointment to have a crown fitted today. When I told my oncologist I had to have a root canal, and I hoped that it wasn’t a problem, she said, “No problem. No dentalwork on chemo!” But I needed the root canal, because the whole two months’ time I was running around having umpteen tests done for my cancer, my mouth and jaw was killing me and I was popping pain relievers rather than going to the dentist. So I raced to a new dentist who saw me the next day, and got me a root canal referral the same day, all the day before chemo started. Today, I go get a crown fitted, because that kind of dentalwork can be done on chemo.

The C5000 Power Port

The day after my surgery (some may call it a procedure, but when you cut through my skin and fat with a scalpel, I call it surgery) this hurt like fire. Two days after, it just felt weird. Last night, Tessa cleaned the two incision sites, as per instructions from the hospital, and applied new dressings. I didn’t look, but she reports the incisions are tiny, clean and there is no bruising. He must be some doctor, because with all the blood and pushing and pulling and shoving and wiggling, I figured I would be one giant bruise. I ran my finger over the dressing, and it feels HUGE. Tessa says it’s riding a little high under my skin. Blech!

Buzz time (and I’m not talking weed)

Looks like it’s time for my buzz cut. Goodbye hair, goodbye friends and reader friends. See you later!


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