The Bumbag Chronicles: Chemo interruptus

Mick drove me to the Mater this morning for my second round of chemo.
I walked out sans bumbag; my blood test this morning showed my platelet count was low, too low for chemo. I have to wait another week and see how I go.

I'm relieved and little concerned, but I've learned to switch off the anxiety when there's nothing I can do about it.

Unfortunately, it gives me more time to ponder the litany of horrors, aka list of possible side-effects.
Hair loss was something that I feared last time but never came to fruition. I have a feeling this time it's a different story.
Of course, the lovely people at the Mater are mindful of cosmetic concerns, bless them, and I noticed today for the first time the cabinet of wigs they have on offer.

There's about a dozen or so, only one of which is for men:

It looks like something out of Get Smart.
I think I'd go for the one on the right.

Kicky!