Recently I had to fancy dress a book character and apart from the obvious fairy tales I thought of the wig days and then chose to be Bridget Jones…

You look at me like I have changed,

It wasn’t my intention,

They said I’d die,

But that’s a lie,

And something you can’t mention…

You look, but then you look away,

Is this a real bad hair day?

The style’s not swell,

I don’t feel well,

More core than disarray….

I’d sit a rabbit on my head,

At least I’d get a laugh,

‘Though you say I’m hot,

I believe I’m not,

Don’t be sweet on my behalf…

I am just about accepting this,

And I know you’re wondering too,

Not a panto’ queen,

Not a junkie’s dream,

This is it, and we’ll get through…

To be sure this wasn’t in my plan,

So it’s hard to see you shy,

Mirrors at the fair,

This look’s not to scare,

Incognito, Bond Girl, spy…

Fancy dress might be funny, but to people who have cancer and those who support them, it is hard to know what to say when people look different. I am blessed with a kind imagination, but I also found many people avoided conversations and talked to me like I had joined some fanatical sect! Then a friend said to wear a hat and sunglasses, like I was some kind of Bond Girl, and the dressing up started to be a little more fun…

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