Wigs!

Mum got a wig! She and my aunty went to House of Fraser in Exeter to look for a wig as she is nearly on her second dose of chemotherapy and is due to lose her hair anytime soon.
I came home from school and mum showed me her new hair. To be perfectly honest, it wasn't any different from the hair she has now. It was still the same short, bob-shaped, dark chocolate brunette coloured hair. It comforted me to know that a part of her would remain the same.
She also purchased a rather odd accessory...it was an extra hair piece, a fringe. She bought it so whenever she didn't feel like wearing the wig (wigs can get quite itchy and hot) she could use the fringe under a hat.
Mum got her hair cut short as well so it's not as shocking when it falls out. I also discovered a rather interesting fact the other day. Mum's hairdresser told her that when your hair falls out, it can be painful. I thought it just effortlessly disappears one day.
Well, you know what they say - you learn something new everyday!

Positivity

Today mum and I went for a jog around the block. It wasn't a particularly long distance because anything too extreme could have made her suffer from severe pain but we managed to run the whole way without stopping. It's the little things like exercising that make you realise that your loved one is actually on the road to recovery.
My mum quoted a particularly poignant statement today, "Positivity equals possbility." She's right, positivity makes you more determined to succeed.
In mum's case, positivity makes her focus on getting better. It's a New Year's resolution that she's never going to break.

Today, mum has had her first dose of chemo. She looks so fragile, so small and pale in her bed. The "medicene" is already making her sick, it's a poison that her body wants to remove. I am also afraid that if I am around her too much, she'll catch my cold and it'll make her feel even worse. I wish I could just wrap her up in cotton wool and promise her a lifetime of good health.
Oh, if only I could give my mother good health, I'd do anything to give her that.
Pepe, my step father, is with her now. I have retreated to my room, hiding from the scariness and the reality of all of this whilst I am plugged into my music.
I am thankful for my music, it blocks out the sounds of my mum crying and being ill. In a way, I am trying to censor out the things I don't want to know. It sounds pathetic and childish, but I want to be able to remember my mum as the determined, strong, amazing woman I know she is, not a delicate, pale creature, who is weakened by this disease.
I know she has a lot of fighting spirit in her.

doubts.

How many weeks has it been since my mum first told me the bad news?
I don't have a clue to be honest. Time seems to have been stolen from us. Precious time.
I've had doubts recently. So many "what if's?" have been rushing through my mind, like a roll of credits on a film. What if mum doesn't get through this? What if she never gets better? What if she's never going to be my mum again, what if she changes?
I feel guilty in a way for being so doubtful and negative but I can't help it.
Today, I searched "breast cancer survival rates" on the internet. I saw that mum had obviously been thinking the same thing, she'd already clicked that link. We're sharing our doubts.

My mum is one of the strongest women I know, she's determined, caring and completely self-less - I owe it to her to be by her side, helping her with each struggle she faces so whatever the outcome of this battle may be, we'll be grateful that it has made us a much stronger family.