Chemo - Day 7 and What I really got for Christmas

When Santa Clause visited our place on Saturday  morning I wasn't quite sure what he had left for me. Now throughout the duration of the year I have been good, relatively speaking of course, so I was hoping that he would surprise me with some gadget or another. After undergoing surgery to have my testicle removed, learning that I have cancer, becoming sterile and enduring chemo and the side effects; weight gain, insomnia and lethargy notwithstanding, an electronic tech toy would surely cheer me up. An iPad, MacBook or come to think of it anything Apple would suffice. So you can imagine my impatience when i awoke on Christmas morning and furiously ran down the stairs to see what the big man had left under the tree for me. Well I looked under that tree and I couldn't find anything with my name on it. There were gifts for Marcus, Aidan, Janice, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunts and Uncles. But absolutely nothing for Tom. I was confused, perplexed even. Surely there must have been a mistake. A mix up at the sorting office. May be it fell off the sleigh. What to do?

I continued on with the morning, making a huge fried breakfast and large pot of coffee. Not necessarily good for the cancer but great for the Scottish soul. It is hard to be sad when there is square sausage on the go. I watched everyone else open their presents and lived vicariously through them for a while, breathing in their excitement and enthusiasm for Christmas morning. After a while nature was calling so I made the move upstairs. Once in the washroom I looked into the mirror. There it was. There was my Christmas present. Everyone else had seen it and now I was the last. Hair loss. The fat bastard brought hair loss to my Christmas party.

I have had a sort of Samson-esque relationship with my hair throughout my life and has been around shoulder length for the better part of the last 20 years although it has been diminishing in thickness and volume for the last couple of years. Now as you can see I am not exactly bald but it was coming out in clumps and has been thinning increasingly for the last few days but I fear the time has come to take control of the situation. I am going to shave my head. Never done it before and quite frankly I am a bit scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of change. Scared of my head resembling my ass and people not being able to tell the difference. However it has to be done.

Well here it is. Here is my bald head and you know what, it's not so bad.

While looking into the mirror tonight I discovered a present that Father Christmas left that I hadn't seen on Saturday. Courage. He left me the courage to face my fears head on and deal with them. Strength and courage are the two ever present qualities that I have had to depend upon to deal with my illness. I never knew I had either in such quantities. Strength, unlike Samson, I can draw from others. From the support and well wishes from my family, friends and colleagues. Courage actually requires me to execute an act that ultimately if it were not for the former I'd be unable to pull off.

That is probably the best present I have ever received.

For the record though, next year instead of milk and cookies I think I'll leave out some single malt. St Nick has a twisted sense of humor and can be a total prick.

7 down 14 to go

Livestrong!