Shorn, Sean and she says …… sh

Does he have to alliterate so much, it’s getting totally tedious.

At 11 a.m. yesterday Lindsey came round and sheared what was left of my locks. I know I’ve gone on about my hair but it’s a big deal for me.

I can hear a French police siren, what’s happening?

So I’ve had a number 4 and everyone has been very polite about my new look. Lindsey gave me a multi-coloured spiky wig. Kate and I went shopping in Poole. Bought 2 hats, so with my new hair, hats and shades I looked very different. Actually I’m enjoying this and beginning to create a number of different looks. When in a charity shop I saw a young woman walking by who looked just like my daughter Fay, mainly because it was Fay. Now this was a little weird because I thought she was at university in Plymouth.

Whillst the chemo effects seem to lessen my taste and feeding remain altered; this time I had a sudden craving for a big moist beefburger which when I bit into would release juices to ooze and dribble down my face. Is there some similarity with pregnancy going on? Have to make the most of food and drink in the next few weeks as I’m having a gastric tube fitted on the 4th November and will probably be fed through it after the radiotherapy starts. Not a great deal of taste sensation there. Apparently I will lose any sense of taste and it will take some time to return, in some cases it never returns.

Last night we had our first night out in a while, it was also my first experience of a tribute band: Pop Up Bowie. I wore the wig under my hoodie with sunglasses, I took the hoodie off after an hour, then when the band played ‘sorrow’ took off the wig and hoodie and put on my new fedora, I was also wearing a mod-style shirt. I had more different looks than the Bowie man on stage.

Now the Bowie man looked significantly like the man himself and his singing sounded even more like the man. Al’s husband Sean played guitar (Al had kindly given us a couple of tickets). After a tentative start he played increasingly well. Listen to me trying to write like some bleedin’ music writer, what a tosser.

Kate was very worried about going as she was convinced I’d drink alcohol, I didn’t. It was weird being at such a do and not drinking but it made for an evening where I felt more an observer than participant. People were lovely and caring and made it so much easier for Kate and me. Mike hugged us and cried, the big cry baby, but the love was enchanting. He’s 60 next month, free bus pass time.

Keep on keeping on and Ziggy played guitar, jamming good with Weird and Gilly.

Love Duncan


4 thoughts on “Shorn, Sean and she says …… sh

  1. So apart from observation critiques, how does several weeks without the genie in the bottle feel? Not much as been said about that, intriguing.
    Really feeling for your plight – drafting some tome agreeing on the importance for all of us in recognising death while alive, but leave that for some other less autumnal day. Only 8 weeks ish until the days start lengthening and the medicine-sweat-lodge-trial cascades to an end. Loving the outfit descriptions – fashion critic rather than music?? xxx


  2. Jo
    assume you mean the alcohol genie; I really miss going to the pub and having a few pints, having a good red with a meal, a couple of drinks last night to lubricate the social scene and my dancing is even worse when sober. Just think about my liver; It first thinks ‘thanks , giving me a break from alcohol’ then wham, ‘what the fuck is all this chemo’. Losing my hair is bad enough, not being able to drown my sorrows compounds it.
    Any way enjoying the sartorial experiments.
    love duncan


  3. Was thinking that perhaps a dramatic increase in scores for the Guardian quiz and generally improved evening thinking capacity (based on the fact that mine, after a glass or 4, is on the floor) might compensate for the absence of the fermented stuff, but I guess the chemo nobbles that notion; sorry.


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