Yesterday I went to St George's for my monthly pentamadine (to protect my lungs, mostly from pneumonia, I think), after it was brought back in to replace the potentially allergy-inducing septrin I had been taking as tablets. It was a remarkably swift and efficient operation, thanks to doctor Matthew's excellent pre-planning in writing up a prescription … Continue reading Days +34 and +35: Matters of perception
Day +15: The bald truth
Growing up, I invariably went to the same hairdresser in Chichester, an incredibly shy but sweet man called Stephen. He didn't do anything special, but cut my hair in the same inoffensive style, to the same length all over. I was very happy with this. At boarding school a hairdresser visited on certain days at certain … Continue reading Day +15: The bald truth
The hair gets thinner up here
One evening when I was out of hospital for a time during treatment for my first bout of leukaemia, I found myself in the queue for a club (the Clapham Grand, for connoisseurs of such establishments), merrily enjoying life with a bandana on my head and a Hickman line in my chest. I was standing in … Continue reading The hair gets thinner up here