Why do the worst things happen to the best people anyway?
I hate cancer.
I have made the most wonderful friends as a result of my cancer diagnosis. I count myself so lucky. Now one of them is facing an indescribably difficult time as a result of an incredibly aggressive cancer.
I hate it.
I cannot put in to words how much I hate this, how much my heart hurts.
Monday, 22 December 2014
Thursday, 4 December 2014
Chemos and calendars
Number of days since I was diagnosed with cancer: 139
Number of chemo's left: 0
Number of chemo blood tests left: 0
Number of chemo related cannulas left: 0
Number of hours left to sit with a -4 degree head freezer on my head: 0.
I did it!
Lots of people that go through chemo make a "Last chemo" sign for their last session and have a photo. I wanted to do the same! I got carried away with glitter, and stars, and stickers and feathers and forgot to write "last chemo, 3/12/14" on it until I realised there was no space left... but here you go:
(I might have forgotten the key facts but let's be honest... it's a brilliant, sparkly sign innit.)
Along the way I've been fine, not been fine, and pretended to be fine. I know I've been lucky compared to most in terms of side effects - really lucky in fact. But it's been hard, and I think that's more mentally and emotionally than physically. I've had my share of blues and tears. I've felt weak and scared. I've been irrational and negative. There is something about chemo that is so sinister. You're being injected with poison every 3 weeks that is actually designed to kill you. Luckily it only kills cells that are in the process of dividing, and the healthy (non-cancerous) parts of your body can recover (unlike the cancer). But still, you're being repeatedly injected with poison that is killing parts of you. It's not a nice thing to go through, and I am so, so, so relieved it's over.
I'm still not sure what to make of what my oncologist said yesterday after examining me. She said there's a hole where the tumour used to be. I just can't let myself believe that, but I really do hope that it's true. I'm much happier with the thought of a hole where the cancer used to be, than the cancer still being in there.
Anyway, I've celebrated end of chemo with some bubbly and a massive Chinese takeaway with my friend Laura (this is after going out for all you can eat Chinese with Amy last night. I appear to be craving Chinese food. My body must *need* it). Laura made my day. She brought round the three most thoughtful presents ever.
The first was labelled "Because you can" - Some nude nail varnish (I don't need goth nails any more to block out the sun!)
The second labelled "Because you'll have to" - a razor! Haha! But yeah, the hair's growing back all over already so I'm gonna need to shave if I don't want to evolve in to a hairy beast by new year (Diane, if you're reading this, you need not comment....!)
The third labelled "Because it will be" - this was my favourite....
It struck me, is there any present more meaningful than a calendar? Most of you have probably never thought about it like this before, but when someone gives you a calendar for the next year, that's based on an assumption that you're going to be around for that next year. What an amazing assumption to make! I'm going to write everything I do in this one, and keep it forever. It's not so much things or places that I want to see in there when I look back, it's the names of people I care about who I've spent time with.
Anyway, despite the steroids, I'm getting tired and it's 1.30am and I am actually going in to the office tomorrow afternoon, ha! So I'd better try and get some sleep. I'll try and dream nice things about 2015 when everything is going to work out just fine.
Night night xx
Number of chemo's left: 0
Number of chemo blood tests left: 0
Number of chemo related cannulas left: 0
Number of hours left to sit with a -4 degree head freezer on my head: 0.
I did it!
Lots of people that go through chemo make a "Last chemo" sign for their last session and have a photo. I wanted to do the same! I got carried away with glitter, and stars, and stickers and feathers and forgot to write "last chemo, 3/12/14" on it until I realised there was no space left... but here you go:
Last Chemo, 3rd December 2014
Along the way I've been fine, not been fine, and pretended to be fine. I know I've been lucky compared to most in terms of side effects - really lucky in fact. But it's been hard, and I think that's more mentally and emotionally than physically. I've had my share of blues and tears. I've felt weak and scared. I've been irrational and negative. There is something about chemo that is so sinister. You're being injected with poison every 3 weeks that is actually designed to kill you. Luckily it only kills cells that are in the process of dividing, and the healthy (non-cancerous) parts of your body can recover (unlike the cancer). But still, you're being repeatedly injected with poison that is killing parts of you. It's not a nice thing to go through, and I am so, so, so relieved it's over.
I'm still not sure what to make of what my oncologist said yesterday after examining me. She said there's a hole where the tumour used to be. I just can't let myself believe that, but I really do hope that it's true. I'm much happier with the thought of a hole where the cancer used to be, than the cancer still being in there.
Anyway, I've celebrated end of chemo with some bubbly and a massive Chinese takeaway with my friend Laura (this is after going out for all you can eat Chinese with Amy last night. I appear to be craving Chinese food. My body must *need* it). Laura made my day. She brought round the three most thoughtful presents ever.
The first was labelled "Because you can" - Some nude nail varnish (I don't need goth nails any more to block out the sun!)
The second labelled "Because you'll have to" - a razor! Haha! But yeah, the hair's growing back all over already so I'm gonna need to shave if I don't want to evolve in to a hairy beast by new year (Diane, if you're reading this, you need not comment....!)
The third labelled "Because it will be" - this was my favourite....
It struck me, is there any present more meaningful than a calendar? Most of you have probably never thought about it like this before, but when someone gives you a calendar for the next year, that's based on an assumption that you're going to be around for that next year. What an amazing assumption to make! I'm going to write everything I do in this one, and keep it forever. It's not so much things or places that I want to see in there when I look back, it's the names of people I care about who I've spent time with.
Anyway, despite the steroids, I'm getting tired and it's 1.30am and I am actually going in to the office tomorrow afternoon, ha! So I'd better try and get some sleep. I'll try and dream nice things about 2015 when everything is going to work out just fine.
Night night xx
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
Frightened
I've just been for my appointment with my oncologist in advance of my final blast of chemo. She said my blood levels are all fine, so chemo can go ahead on time tomorrow. This is a massive relief - I get to be well for the run up to Christmas.
She also wanted to examine me. I told her that when others have examined me, they couldn't feel the lump anyway, but she insisted, so she did, and straight away she said she felt a hole. Not a lump, a hole. Where the tumour used to be. She had a big smile on her face, and told me the chemo had been doing its job. I didn't believe her, and she got me to have a good old grope of myself but I couldn't tell what she meant. But she was convinced that there isn't a tumour there and that she can feel a hole in the place it used to be. I don't know what to think. If she's right, this is obviously incredible news. But the oncologist having a good manual rummage round isn't the same as a scan. So I have thought about it and decided to not believe her. Why get my hopes up. In my experience that doesn't tend to work out well.
I told her I was prepared for chemo to not make any difference, because mine is a grade 1 tumour, and I thought that grade 1, slow growing tumours, didn't respond so well to chemo. She said my tumour might look grade 1 under the microscope, but it's in my lymph nodes, so the "grade 1" is irrelevant. It isn't behaving like a grade 1 tumour. I guess I already knew this but hearing it frightened me.
She said that when I meet with the surgeon I should consider delayed reconstruction. Lob the cancer out, have radiotherapy, and then further down the line have reconstruction. Better cosmetic results apparently. This frightened me. I'm scared of one surgery. I don't want multiple surgeries.
And then she said that after all that, I will go on tamoxifen which is a drug that stops estrogen fuelling any estrogen receptor positive cancer cells (this is the type of cancer I have - estrogen receptor positive). I told her that I'd been told tamoxifen wasn't an option for me, because I have a family history of blood clots. I said that I thought if I could have ovaries out, that would do the same job as tamoxifen because that would mean there wouldn't be estrogen being produced in my body. She said that there would still be estrogen in my body from other places, and she is referring me for testing to see if I personally am at risk of blood clotting, because tamoxifen is the best drug they can give me and she wants me to have it. So this frightened me, because if I can't have tamoxifen then I guess I'm not getting the best drugs to prevent recurrence, but if I do have tamoxifen I am frightened of getting a blood clot and dying from that.
I should be happy right now. I can have my last chemo on time, and the oncologist thinks my tumour has gone.
But I am just really, really frightened. I have that small feeling again. Like I am just so small, and everything is just so scary. I wish someone could just make it better. I'm not cut out for this.
She also wanted to examine me. I told her that when others have examined me, they couldn't feel the lump anyway, but she insisted, so she did, and straight away she said she felt a hole. Not a lump, a hole. Where the tumour used to be. She had a big smile on her face, and told me the chemo had been doing its job. I didn't believe her, and she got me to have a good old grope of myself but I couldn't tell what she meant. But she was convinced that there isn't a tumour there and that she can feel a hole in the place it used to be. I don't know what to think. If she's right, this is obviously incredible news. But the oncologist having a good manual rummage round isn't the same as a scan. So I have thought about it and decided to not believe her. Why get my hopes up. In my experience that doesn't tend to work out well.
I told her I was prepared for chemo to not make any difference, because mine is a grade 1 tumour, and I thought that grade 1, slow growing tumours, didn't respond so well to chemo. She said my tumour might look grade 1 under the microscope, but it's in my lymph nodes, so the "grade 1" is irrelevant. It isn't behaving like a grade 1 tumour. I guess I already knew this but hearing it frightened me.
She said that when I meet with the surgeon I should consider delayed reconstruction. Lob the cancer out, have radiotherapy, and then further down the line have reconstruction. Better cosmetic results apparently. This frightened me. I'm scared of one surgery. I don't want multiple surgeries.
And then she said that after all that, I will go on tamoxifen which is a drug that stops estrogen fuelling any estrogen receptor positive cancer cells (this is the type of cancer I have - estrogen receptor positive). I told her that I'd been told tamoxifen wasn't an option for me, because I have a family history of blood clots. I said that I thought if I could have ovaries out, that would do the same job as tamoxifen because that would mean there wouldn't be estrogen being produced in my body. She said that there would still be estrogen in my body from other places, and she is referring me for testing to see if I personally am at risk of blood clotting, because tamoxifen is the best drug they can give me and she wants me to have it. So this frightened me, because if I can't have tamoxifen then I guess I'm not getting the best drugs to prevent recurrence, but if I do have tamoxifen I am frightened of getting a blood clot and dying from that.
I should be happy right now. I can have my last chemo on time, and the oncologist thinks my tumour has gone.
But I am just really, really frightened. I have that small feeling again. Like I am just so small, and everything is just so scary. I wish someone could just make it better. I'm not cut out for this.
Sunday, 30 November 2014
December 2014 and Beautiful People
Tomorrow is December, I've been waiting for it, and I'm glad it's here. November can do one.
Bye bye chemo
On Wednesday, assuming my blood levels are ok, I will be having my last chemo. Last chemo! I'm so relieved. I'm not sure I can stand much more of it, so it's a good job this is the last. It's been hard, and as I've said many times, I got through it because of amazing friends. I want to say thank you to the people who have stood by my side the whole time. I don't want to name names because I'm scared of missing someone out accidentally, so I will just hope that you know who you are. Like I said at the start of all this, I'm not a strong person, I'm not brave. I'm only still standing, just about, because of the strength of some incredible friends. (Oh gawd, as I am writing this I've started to cry! I'm too emotional, see? Not strong. New Year's Resolution: Toughen the fuck up.) I don't know what I'd do without you, and I love you very much.
I also want to say a specific big thank you and a big FUCK YEAH WE'VE (nearly) DONE IT! to the friends I've made who are also about to have their last chemo. I've had a lot of support from, and made a lot of friends, who have/have had breast cancer and are going through/have gone through cancer treatment. Massive big love to everyone.
Hello Christmas
So if my last chemo is this Wednesday, 3rd December, then I can expect to be ill for up to 8 or 9 days after. (I have no intention of being ill longer than that at the most cos I have people to see and places to be from 12th onwards). Seeing as it's December, I'm preparing for this last stint of chemo-induced houseboundness by putting up my Christmas decorations, and getting all my dvds of Christmas films out and ready. I hate that I'm going to be ill again, but at least I can make this one festive!
And then the celebrations begin, and I can't wait because I get to spend lots of time, not ill, with the people who matter to me most. A few of the highlights include:
When I think about all this I feel really happy. I'm glad I wrote this all down, it's a good reminder.
Anyway.... now to just prepare for LAST CHEMO! My milking the "I've got cancer" thing has paid off as I have a friend coming round with homemade crumble shortly, then I've got a mad busy afternoon/evening sorting shit out and christmassing my house, work tomorrow in the day, tomorrow evening will be spent telling Emily how brilliant she is while she makes me cosmopolitans, work Tuesday in the day, and then out celebrating last chemo in town with Amy Jay on Tuesday night.
Then bring on Wednesday. Bring it on.
Bye bye chemo
On Wednesday, assuming my blood levels are ok, I will be having my last chemo. Last chemo! I'm so relieved. I'm not sure I can stand much more of it, so it's a good job this is the last. It's been hard, and as I've said many times, I got through it because of amazing friends. I want to say thank you to the people who have stood by my side the whole time. I don't want to name names because I'm scared of missing someone out accidentally, so I will just hope that you know who you are. Like I said at the start of all this, I'm not a strong person, I'm not brave. I'm only still standing, just about, because of the strength of some incredible friends. (Oh gawd, as I am writing this I've started to cry! I'm too emotional, see? Not strong. New Year's Resolution: Toughen the fuck up.) I don't know what I'd do without you, and I love you very much.
I also want to say a specific big thank you and a big FUCK YEAH WE'VE (nearly) DONE IT! to the friends I've made who are also about to have their last chemo. I've had a lot of support from, and made a lot of friends, who have/have had breast cancer and are going through/have gone through cancer treatment. Massive big love to everyone.
Hello Christmas
So if my last chemo is this Wednesday, 3rd December, then I can expect to be ill for up to 8 or 9 days after. (I have no intention of being ill longer than that at the most cos I have people to see and places to be from 12th onwards). Seeing as it's December, I'm preparing for this last stint of chemo-induced houseboundness by putting up my Christmas decorations, and getting all my dvds of Christmas films out and ready. I hate that I'm going to be ill again, but at least I can make this one festive!
And then the celebrations begin, and I can't wait because I get to spend lots of time, not ill, with the people who matter to me most. A few of the highlights include:
- Fake Christmas Day at my house with Charlotte and Emily who have been my rocks over these last few months, so I cannot wait to spoil them rotten.
- Christmas night out with my favourite work peeps who have organised the date around my last chemo to make sure I can be there! So I will be there with (jingle) bells on.
- Despite having not read the book I'm planning on rocking up to my book club/beer club night in December to remind them who I am cos I've not been in so long.
- Leicester YBCN Christmas meet up
- Standard Christmas Food Orgy with The Girls (and their boys), another group of people who I need to spoil rotten for being so ace.
- Plus a bunch of other nights out using Christmas as an excuse for drinking cocktails and champagne and putting the world to rights with various friends.
When I think about all this I feel really happy. I'm glad I wrote this all down, it's a good reminder.
Anyway.... now to just prepare for LAST CHEMO! My milking the "I've got cancer" thing has paid off as I have a friend coming round with homemade crumble shortly, then I've got a mad busy afternoon/evening sorting shit out and christmassing my house, work tomorrow in the day, tomorrow evening will be spent telling Emily how brilliant she is while she makes me cosmopolitans, work Tuesday in the day, and then out celebrating last chemo in town with Amy Jay on Tuesday night.
Then bring on Wednesday. Bring it on.
About pretending: Fake it til you make it
Sometime very shortly after diagnosis I was out and talking to two people I work with who have been going through some major, major shit too. They have a motto: Fake it til you make it.
Life throws a lot of shit at you. Well, it really is throwing a lot of shit at me lately anyway. You can't stop that from happening but you can choose how you respond to it. My go-to response is to be positive and optimistic and I've spent a lot of time genuinely feeling that way. There's nothing I'm writing in my posts about being thankful that isn't true. I have a lot to be happy and thankful for, and in many ways I am really, really lucky.
But there are points when the shit gets too much and any genuine positivity or happiness gets beaten right down. I don't think you can stop that from happening either, but again you can choose how you respond to it. Wallow in it, or pretend everything is ok and keep your fingers crossed that at some point it will actually be ok again. Fake it til you make it. That's what I'm going to have to do, because right now if I allowed myself to even begin to wallow, even just for a moment, I'm not sure how I'd pull myself back out of it.
So I'm going to focus on the good, pretend away the bad, until it's all ok again. In the meantime, maybe people can please handle with care.
Life throws a lot of shit at you. Well, it really is throwing a lot of shit at me lately anyway. You can't stop that from happening but you can choose how you respond to it. My go-to response is to be positive and optimistic and I've spent a lot of time genuinely feeling that way. There's nothing I'm writing in my posts about being thankful that isn't true. I have a lot to be happy and thankful for, and in many ways I am really, really lucky.
But there are points when the shit gets too much and any genuine positivity or happiness gets beaten right down. I don't think you can stop that from happening either, but again you can choose how you respond to it. Wallow in it, or pretend everything is ok and keep your fingers crossed that at some point it will actually be ok again. Fake it til you make it. That's what I'm going to have to do, because right now if I allowed myself to even begin to wallow, even just for a moment, I'm not sure how I'd pull myself back out of it.
So I'm going to focus on the good, pretend away the bad, until it's all ok again. In the meantime, maybe people can please handle with care.
Perspective
I'll keep this brief....
When you have cancer, and you go out and find out about someone with incurable cancer, it sorts you right out. Doesn't fucking matter what was bothering you, you haven't got incurable cancer. You've got a life.
I might not be the cleverest, or the funniest, or the prettiest, or the coolest, or good enough in whatever other way, but I have a life and I can live it. So I won't waste it.
That's all.
Much love
xxx
When you have cancer, and you go out and find out about someone with incurable cancer, it sorts you right out. Doesn't fucking matter what was bothering you, you haven't got incurable cancer. You've got a life.
I might not be the cleverest, or the funniest, or the prettiest, or the coolest, or good enough in whatever other way, but I have a life and I can live it. So I won't waste it.
That's all.
Much love
xxx
Thursday, 27 November 2014
Everything I've learned about.....Faking it - eyebrows and eyelashes
Hi! I'm writing this post for anyone who is going to be going through chemo and faces losing their eyelashes and eyebrows. Don't worry - you can fake them with makeup! And it's pretty easy, trust me. I'm speaking as someone who knew sod all about makeup before I had chemo. Liquid eyeliner? I'd never used it. Lipstick? I'd never worn it. Primer? Isn't that some kind of paint you put on cars?
This isn't a tutorial, this is basically just me sharing some photos to demonstrate how a bit of makeup can quickly transform your generic cancer face back in to a face that resembles what you looked like before chemo came along.
At the end though I'm going to share a couple of links that will help if you, like me, don't know where to begin in completely faking eyebrows and eyelashes.
So first of all this is my Cancer Face. (I do actually have some hair still but I've cropped it out to give a more authentic Cancer Face.)
Sometimes on chemo, I feel tired and ill. But a lot of the time I don't. And when I'm feeling well and I want to go out, I'd rather not look liked a tired, ill cancer patient. And this is where makeup comes in!
Eyebrows
First of all, eyebrows. I have tried two ways of faking eyebrows. One is with Benefit Browzings (or equivalent in another brand). This works, and is easy, but for me I couldn't get my eyebrows quite right. Always ended up too thick and dark. Here's a photo of one from a while ago as an example.
It was better than nothing but I was never really happy.
Then a couple of days ago I went to a Look Good Feel Better makeup workshop (details on that at the end of this post) and was shown how to do eyebrows with a pencil. I much prefer it! The pencil I was given is Estee Lauder Double Wear Stay In Place Brow Lift Duo and it looks like this:
One end is a brown pencil which you use to draw on eyebrows, and the other end is a very light coloured pencil highlighter which you just use a little below the eyebrow you've drawn on. I don't know why. But that's what they told me to do so that's what I'm doing!
Here's me with one eyebrow done so you can compare sides:
And here's me with both eyebrows done!
Another step away from Cancer Face. Hurray! But as you can see, I'm still looking tired and ill, just with eyebrows now. It's cos I've got no eyelashes.
Eyelashes
So, you could go and buy lots of false eyelashes and stick them on. I've never used false eyelashes in my life, and probably never will. I just can't be bothered, and I am the kind of person who would inevitably go out, lose the fake eyelashes off one eye and be unable to remove the fake eyelashes off the other eye, and look like a complete idiot. So I'd rather not bother. Instead, I'm just using eyeshadow and an eyeliner. It's amazing the difference it makes!
First of all, eyeshadow. Here's a photo of me with eyeshadow on and no eyeliner yet. To be honest - in the photo you probably can't tell that much difference, but in real life it's another small step away from Cancer Face.
Next up - eyeliner. Now, I have recently learned how to use a liquid eyeliner... BUT, having been on the Look Good Feel Better workshop I've decided at the moment, I prefer using a pencil - and I'm using a dark grey instead of black. The one I got from Look Good Feel Better is a Lancôme, Le Crayon Khol, 03 Gris Bleu!
(By the way, the photo from earlier of the eyebrow done using Browzings shows one of my early attempts at using liquid eyeliner. I got better at it than that, but even so I think it's a bit full on for me. I might prefer it when I have some eyelashes again.)
Here's me with one eye done with a pencil so you can compare with and without:
And here's me with eyeliner on both eyes. Just putting a bit of eyeliner on gives the impression of eyelashes being there.
Here's a close up of one eye and eyebrow.
This isn't a tutorial, this is basically just me sharing some photos to demonstrate how a bit of makeup can quickly transform your generic cancer face back in to a face that resembles what you looked like before chemo came along.
At the end though I'm going to share a couple of links that will help if you, like me, don't know where to begin in completely faking eyebrows and eyelashes.
So first of all this is my Cancer Face. (I do actually have some hair still but I've cropped it out to give a more authentic Cancer Face.)
:-(
As you can see I do have a few eyebrow hairs still but not many. I still have one chemo left at the point of taking this photo so they might disappear too. And I only have the occasional very stubby eyelash. Mascara is no longer an option for me as there's nothing to apply it to!
Here's a close up of an eyebrow and eye.
:-(
I miss my eyelashes!
Anyway. This is what I look like in my wig with no eyelashes and almost no eyebrows.
Slightly less "cancer patient" but at best looking decidedly tired/a bit ill.
Sometimes on chemo, I feel tired and ill. But a lot of the time I don't. And when I'm feeling well and I want to go out, I'd rather not look liked a tired, ill cancer patient. And this is where makeup comes in!
Eyebrows
First of all, eyebrows. I have tried two ways of faking eyebrows. One is with Benefit Browzings (or equivalent in another brand). This works, and is easy, but for me I couldn't get my eyebrows quite right. Always ended up too thick and dark. Here's a photo of one from a while ago as an example.
It was better than nothing but I was never really happy.
Then a couple of days ago I went to a Look Good Feel Better makeup workshop (details on that at the end of this post) and was shown how to do eyebrows with a pencil. I much prefer it! The pencil I was given is Estee Lauder Double Wear Stay In Place Brow Lift Duo and it looks like this:
One end is a brown pencil which you use to draw on eyebrows, and the other end is a very light coloured pencil highlighter which you just use a little below the eyebrow you've drawn on. I don't know why. But that's what they told me to do so that's what I'm doing!
Here's me with one eyebrow done so you can compare sides:
And here's me with both eyebrows done!
Another step away from Cancer Face. Hurray! But as you can see, I'm still looking tired and ill, just with eyebrows now. It's cos I've got no eyelashes.
Eyelashes
So, you could go and buy lots of false eyelashes and stick them on. I've never used false eyelashes in my life, and probably never will. I just can't be bothered, and I am the kind of person who would inevitably go out, lose the fake eyelashes off one eye and be unable to remove the fake eyelashes off the other eye, and look like a complete idiot. So I'd rather not bother. Instead, I'm just using eyeshadow and an eyeliner. It's amazing the difference it makes!
First of all, eyeshadow. Here's a photo of me with eyeshadow on and no eyeliner yet. To be honest - in the photo you probably can't tell that much difference, but in real life it's another small step away from Cancer Face.
Next up - eyeliner. Now, I have recently learned how to use a liquid eyeliner... BUT, having been on the Look Good Feel Better workshop I've decided at the moment, I prefer using a pencil - and I'm using a dark grey instead of black. The one I got from Look Good Feel Better is a Lancôme, Le Crayon Khol, 03 Gris Bleu!
(By the way, the photo from earlier of the eyebrow done using Browzings shows one of my early attempts at using liquid eyeliner. I got better at it than that, but even so I think it's a bit full on for me. I might prefer it when I have some eyelashes again.)
Here's me with one eye done with a pencil so you can compare with and without:
And here's me with eyeliner on both eyes. Just putting a bit of eyeliner on gives the impression of eyelashes being there.
What do you think?! Not quite screaming "CANCER PATIENT" so much now is it?!
It's not quite the same as having real eyebrows and eyelashes, but I am well impressed at how much difference a little bit of makeup can make. This is the makeup I used on my eyebrows and eyes: An eyebrow pencil, an eyeliner, and eyeshadow.
That is literally it.
Stuff you might be interested in!
So if you are going through chemo and are going to lose your lashes and brows and want to fake them but don't know where to start here is something to check out:
Look Good Feel Better workshops
Hopefully your hospital has told you about these already, but if not have a look on their website: http://www.lookgoodfeelbetter.co.uk/
They are free 2 hour makeup sessions for women going through chemotherapy. The one I went to was held at the hospital I go to for chemo.
You are given a big bag of makeup and cosmetics products which you get to keep. Mine included: eye makeup remover, makeup remover, toner, moisturiser, special eye moisturiser, primer, concealer, foundation, blusher, powder, eyebrow pencil, eyeliner pencil, eyeshadow, mascara, lip liner pencil, 2 lipsticks.
And you are shown how to use all of these products in a way that leaves you looking like a regular non-cancer-patient person (unlike a clown, which is what I'd have looked like if I'd just been given the products and sent away to work them out on my own!).
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