Torchbearer

A couple of months ago I nominated H to be a torch-bearer for the 2012 Olympics.  She's got an email today saying yes please carry our torch for us.  Now on the one hand the Olympics is a massive waste of money, the kowtowing to Olympic officials is grotesque, the logo (which appears on the torchbearers' official shirts) is obscene, the torch looks like a cheese-grater, and they wouldn't even sell me tickets for any of the events I wanted to see.   On the other hand I am well chuffed.

July looks rather distant from here.  Keep well H.

The wig is the biz

H had her wig fitted today.  There's a more hair at the front than I've seen on her before: the wig guy has been cautious about cutting it because it isn't going to grow, but otherwise it looks exactly like her own hair.

Meanwhile, she's been having two weeks of daily radiotherapy on the lump on the side of her head.  She chose electron beam therapy this time because the x-ray therapy she had on her other head lesion made her feel sick.  This should stop the lump growing, at the cost of another bald path.  She's lost most of her hair on Paclitaxel, so it doesn't make much difference - huzzah for the wig.  Her bald head is as pretty as she is, but I suppose it would be a bit much to go out in public with the tumours on show.

The wig guy chatted away as he cut about all the pop stars whose hair he's done.  Who knew that Adam Ant was always as bald as a coot?

ok, I admit I made that up.