My hair is falling out by the handful now. This affects me more than I thought it would and I’m not sure why. As I gather the pile of hair from the bathroom floor with my fingers I cry once more. I guess it’s just another stage in the journey, a point reached, a cancer milestone I cannot avoid. I will cut my hair off this weekend.

My old friend CO comes to visit. It has been about 3 or so years since we last saw each other – pre-pandemic anyway. We spend a few hours catching up on each other’s lives. He is well but has his own struggles. No life is perfect, I think. When he leaves it is very, very hard to say goodbye and we linger on the hug, neither of us knowing if or when we will meet again.

Susannah and I have a slow afternoon. We are both feeling quite low key. Aunt L visits, bringing us a huge box of fruit, perfect for juicing. She kindly takes a few photos of us on our patio in front of the bush.

At this point I don’t care how I look, I just want some last photos while I still have my hair. Once that’s done I’m ready to make the change.