We definitely had not planned the timing of the two events.
The hair dryer had been on our to-buy list since the last time we had been in Geneva in early August. We just hadn't yet been near a store where we might buy one, and there didn't seem to be any urgency since we towel-dry much of the time.
When we decided to go to the wig-maker today ... because D-L's hair had begun coming out (a little), now 15 days after her first chemo treatment ... we sort of expected Michel - le specialist en perruques medicales, recommend by the hospital - would take measurements, select a hair style from one of his hundreds of mannequins, match Donna-Lane's hair color, and create her custom wig over the next few days.
We didn't expect Michel was going to go ahead and shave her head today.
I like her response: her hair didn't fall off; she had it taken off. The timing was her decision.
The shaving process took a little less than two minutes. Once it started, it would have been a little difficult to change her mind, unless she wanted to try the mohawk look for a few days.
So now she's got a new 'do, which looks rather like her old 'do. Except this one has no roots to color and does not need to be trimmed periodically. So that'll save a few francs over the next several months.
Despite all she's been through since April, seeing her bald, to me, was one of the first visible confirmations of her battle with cancer. Yes, I've seen photos of lots of bald women on the internet, holding the heartwarming "last chemo" poster. But those women are not my wife. And until today, she's weathered the two surgeries, numerous shots, and a heavy dose of toxic chemicals dripped into her system with remarkable good spirits and varying degrees of fatigue.
She won't show it, at least not yet, but I think her hairless head is quite beautiful. It's a courageous head. Goes with her caring heart.