I had been made aware from the day that I was told I had cancer that the treatment I would need would result in me losing my hair, all of my hair. My oncologist had made a point of telling me that hair loss was the very first side effect he discussed with all of his patients. He made it clear that of all the side effects this was the one that caused the most distress, especially for women. I had agreed with my chemotherapy team that I would give the cold cap ago but they had warned me that on the dosage of Epirubicin (the drug that causes the hair loss) that I was being prescribed, chances are I would lose my hair in any event.

I had been fairly stoic initially even possibly a bit blasé at the thought of losing my hair but as I got closer to the start of my chemotherapy it was a factor that began to take up more of my headspace. Looking back I think I was actually pretty terrified and like so many other aspects of what I was dealing with had consigned that fear to another empty box at the back of my mind but I finally had to deal with it. Time was ticking by. I did that by trying to be a bit organised about it. I spent time researching headwear, how to look after my hair whilst using the cold cap (essentially do absolutely nothing with it at all). I also made myself an appointment for a wig fitting just before my chemo started. I had read that it was better to do that before you experienced any hair loss as that can be a pretty traumatic time when you undoubtedly won’t be feeling great and probably not massively up for trying on wigs. Also better to go when you still have your hair so that the consultant can see what sort of hair you had before it’s gone.

Rather usefully for me there is a shop in Ware, which is the next town to the village where I live, that is a bespoke hair clinic catering for anyone suffering from hair loss brought about by a medical condition or treatment. Rather aptly the shop is called “ Hair to Ware”. I have walked past it countless times in the years that I have lived here and have often stopped to admire the window displays of rather fabulous wigs. Those of you who know me well will know that I have always loved fancy dress and wigs have always been a part of that. I have rather a large collection at home in every style, length and colour. Something to complete every costume but contemplating wearing a wig because you head underneath is as bald as a coot is quite a different experience.

I made an appointment for the Saturday after we returned from Norfolk. My mum and dad stayed with us for the weekend before returning home so that mum could come to the appointment with me. I was expecting it to be a pretty emotional experience and I was so glad she could come and do a bit of socially distanced hand holding. The shop was only allowing one person to attend an appointment with you as part of their COVID policy and masks had to be worn throughout. My daughter Jodie was devastated not to be able to come too. She was extremely excited at the prospect of me wearing a wig and even more at the prospect that she may be able to wear it on occasion too! Whether I would lose my hair was one of the first questions that she asked me when we told her and Max that I had cancer and I had caught her a number of times since then staring at my hair and absentmindedly stroking it when we were cuddled up on the sofa together. She had also told me a number of times that she thought I would look great with no hair. Looking at her beautiful long blonde tresses I was not at all surprised that she had such a focus on the hair loss issue. Even through she is only 10, there was a feeling of female comradery between us which was so lovely. Even at her tender years she was totally aware of the trauma that losing my hair was going to be.

I was really nervous as I arrived at Hair to Ware with mum, soaked to the skin having had to dash up the high street in a sudden down pour. I didn’t know what to expect as I rang the bell. We were greeted by the bright and bubbly receptionist who immediately made us feel welcome. Once our temperatures were taken and we had sanitised our hands we were taken to a seating area and I was sat in front of a large mirror. My hair looked shocking as it started to frizz up in front of my eyes, drying out from the soaking it received in the rain. Ironic I thought, won’t have any hair to get frizzy soon!

Our consultant Kim came breezing over and we had an initial chat about why I was there and what I was looking for. She immediately put me at ease, there was no awkwardness and she was full of great advice and tips and a total understanding of the challenges I had to come. One of the benefits of going to such a specialist shop I guess, a huge proportion of their customers are going through chemotherapy like me. She asked me lots of questions about what I wanted in my wig. I realised pretty quickly that I didn’t really know but we chatted and soon decided that whilst I was more than up for trying anything really (and actually quite excited at the prospect!) I probably really just wanted to look as much like the normal me as possible with maybe just a slightly less frizz.

Kim went away and came back with three boxes which contained three wigs to start with. One that resembled my actual hair, one a variation on my actual hair and the final one a bit of an outlier that she thought was worth a try too. It was beginning to feel a bit like a wedding dress appointment with mum sitting there and both of us actually quite excited to see what came out of each box. Before I could get too excited about the wigs themselves I had to learn how to put them on. Hairnet first, they a careful and not at all easy pulling on from front to back ensuring that the wig is positioned correctly and not sitting too high or low. I’d had my hair cut shorter than usual a few weeks before the wig appointment and in preparation of the start of chemo so it was now a shorter version of my traditional short dark blonde Bob.

Once I had grasped the rules for putting a wig on we could start the try on. The first wig was a pretty good match to my existing cut just a bit longer and a shade darker. I really liked it and it got a thumbs up from mum too. I felt like me in it which Kim said was important. The temptation for me was to go for something completely different to my usual hair, an opportunity to go a bit wild. When was I going to get to wear a wig in my real life (as opposed to at a party or a festival) again? But Kim warned me that when the hair starts to go it can cause significant feelings of sadness and even despair and that most people actually just want a solution that was going to make them look as much like their old self as possible. I could see that so had ditched the idea of trying on anything too crazy but agreed with Kim that if I went went for a sensible in my choice at this appointment, I needed to come back another time and go crazy. Kim said they’d had groups of girls in before for fittings with Prosecco and nibbles………….. I know just the girls for that I thought (you know who you are ladies!).

The next offering was interesting, darker than my real hair with some quite out there blonde highlights and interesting layering. I was wondering where Kim was going with this one given we had agreed to stick with styles not too far from my normal hair. As I pulled it into position and the full extent of the mullet became apparent I became more alarmed. “What do you think?”asked Kim. “ I think I look like I am channelling Pat Sharp circa 1992” I said. Becoming aware that Kim was a good few years younger than me and she looked a bit perplexed I asked if she knew who Pat Sharpe was? “Oh yes” she replied, “I loved his Fun House”. Conscious that my mum was looking suitably horrified behind her mask, this definitely wasn’t the wig for me and the Pat Sharp conversation didn’t have much more scope for development, I took the wig off and put it back in the box suggesting they rename the wig “ The Pat” given that they all seemed to be identified by a female name.

The final wig I tried was a blonder, slightly longer version of my normal hair. It looked like my hair but only on the best of days after a professional blow dry. One of the most amazing things about wigs of course is that they always guarantee you a GHD (great hair day) they don’t kink, frizz, get bedhead or misbehave in any way, provided you look after them. I LOVED it but there was that nagging doubt that I would feel self conscious when I put it on. I imagined my Zoom calls with work colleagues, this hair would draw attention and that was possibly not what I would want after losing my hair. I had never gone to work with hair looking this good. It was party ready, actually it was red carpet ready and as a result probably a bit too much. So with some sadness the red carpet hair went back in the box but not before I got Kim to make a note of the name of the party hair wig on my details as I envisaged coming back at some point to buy it as an alternative. We all agreed that the wig that looked most like my normal hair was the right wig for now. I was happy that I still looked like me In it, just a little bit better groomed and let’s face it, there is nothing wrong with that. I was totally focused on any small plus points as it certainly didn’t feel that the chemotherapy journey was going to be too brimming with them.

As I was making my final wig choice I noticed an advert for eyebrow micro blading. The shop had a therapist who visited regularly and who specialised in micro blading for chemotherapy patients. I was likely to loose all the hair on my body including eyebrows and lashes. I had looked into having my rather fair eyebrows micro bladed the previous year but had bottled out scared they may end up looking too dark and a bit scary. The treatment is essentially semi permanent tattooing of the brow hairs that would last about a year. Suki the therapist just happened to be in the store that day and after finishing up with a customer came to chat to me and showed me lots of before and after pictures of her clients. She was a larger than life character full of positivity and enthusiasm for her work. In a couple of minutes I was sold, the fear of brows being too dark completely gone. At least this way I would have brows. Feeling just a little bit excited, I booked myself an appointment the following week.

We left the shop with my new wig, a wig stand, wig shampoo and conditioner (who knew!!) a special wig hairbrush and a rather nice hair turban that caught my eye. It hadn’t in any way been the emotional traumatic experience I had expected. Far from it. It had actually been a lot of fun. It was great having mum there as a sound second opinion and the hour appointment had flown by. I honestly could have stayed there all afternoon trying on every wig they had. It was an absolute treasure trove run by the most fantastic positive team of ladies. I felt just a little bit in control again. I was going to lose my hair but I now had strategies in place to deal with that and that felt pretty damn good.