I had a dream last night that I might have cancer again. Of course, it was a dream, so it made no sense – I received a letter saying I had a polyp where my womb used to be. My friend was reading it while we were walking around a supermarket and he seemed much more concerned about it than I was. I suppose the occasional dream about recurrence is just part and parcel of CMMRD these days. This was one of the tamer ones.
It reminded me that since my hair fell out during chemo, I’ve had a lot of dreams about my hair suddenly being its usual long and flowing length again. Especially in the early days of having super short hair or no hair at all, I’d always wake up disappointed. But also, I’d get a bit confused in the middle of the night thinking I could feel my hair on me. And this is the latest poem I wrote, just two or three weeks into chemo last year. I thought I’d share it here now. And I will write new poems soon! Let’s just get this viva done and dusted first (I have a date for it and it’s not long away!) And my hair is doing very well at the moment, too.
In the dark, I think I have hair
As I rise out of bed to go to the toilet,
my arm muscle twitches to pull my hair
from out of my pyjama top –
but it’s just my chemo cap resting
against the nape of my neck.
When I did have hair,
so much of the thick stuff would get in the way,
increasing my hot flushes.
How I’d pull it all upwards away from my clammy neck,
splaying it across the pillow for a cooler sleep.
But it was far more annoying when it started to shed liberally,
I try to be grateful for my cool neck
and my clean floorboards
as my hand rises to flip my hair on the way to the bathroom
and simply brushes empty air instead.
Written on Friday 16th May 2025 at 12pm
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