Wig watch

I took Danni out for a test drive on the weekend. I don't think there is any doubt that she passes. Whether Danni and I together pass as me is debatable, but for anyone who didn't know me I was effective human wallpaper to their day.

I wasn't expecting to feel so comfortable in a wig, but I did - even though it was a really hot day. I enjoyed looking like everyone else, even if I didn't look like myself.

As bald or bescarfed Linda, everyone notices me and if I catch their eye, they give me a smile. It's kind of strangers, they are recognising that life is difficult and their smile is one of support. But it's disconcerting for me, especially in London where the game is to actively avoid eye contact. For example, when I use public transport, to suddenly look up from my book, or from staring out the window, to find a stranger smiling at me is really weird. On the whole, I think I can live without the popularity swing.

Danni's test drive saw myself and my youngest brother Matt, who was over for business, visit the British Museum. As well as the Egyptian mummies and the Roman busts, we saw Grayson Perry's exhibition 'The Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman'. The exhibition was really interesting, especially as I was in disguise and the whole exhibition is about the creation of objects.
http://www.britishmuseum.org/whats_on/exhibitions/grayson_perry.aspx

Walking around the museum I realised I was wig aware when I easily spotted a man in a terrible wig. It wasn't so much the cut, it was kind of a short Danni but not so Beatlesque. It was the colour - matt fake chestnut brown. I wonder if men have less choice than women? Or maybe, like me, it was enough to merely blend in and enjoy the sunshine. Speaking of which, the wig came off in the gift shop when the combination of heat, a hot flush and nylon became too much. Danni is back in the box until next time...


I'm starting my third round of chemo tomorrow, so I'm almost halfway through. I do feel so much better than I thought I would, so keep your fingers crossed.


xx