I looked into the
mirror. Today I’m wearing a T-shirt with a rather plunging sweetheart neckline.
As usual with a plunging neckline I’ve added some jewellery to break up the
expanse of flesh. I’m struck by the fact I can’t see me going out like this
again. I hastily put a blouse over.
The problem? At the
moment the angry looking scar from my op in March is clearly visible.
Admittedly that should fade with time, a white line barely noticeable on my
very fair skin. But also the collar bone seems to have gained knobs over it. Between
the bone & the shoulder, a large chunk of my shoulder was removed in the
course of the op. There remains a distinct depression. The skin on the bone is
being drawn into this hollow, making it tighter on the collar bone, so any
knobs are more noticeable. I’m telling myself I’m just being self-conscious.
Once I’ve had chance to adjust to my new look, it may not seem so bad. I’ll be
able to bare myself with pride. After all this scarring & disfigurement is
a medal of survival in my war against cancer, a sort of badge of honour.
Meanwhile I’m still
adjusting to my new hair look. It may be growing longer though you wouldn’t be
aware of that looking at it. It is all becoming increasingly wavy, even a bit
curly, so the overall length remains the same. The whiteness of it is startling
in its shortness. It seems strange for it to be so short it's not even worth trying to put a comb through it, let alone a brush. At least I haven’t had to worry about the lack of hairdressers
in recent weeks, unlike so many of my friends & family.
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