A friend asked what I did last time I was bald, did I use soap on my head? Shampoo? I couldn’t remember. Well now I know. I shampoo. And condition. How funny. Clearly not necessary but yet it is. Life is as it was. Yeah fucking right. This all happened a tad too quickly. I keep catching glimpses of this vaguely familiar bald chick in the mirror. What the fuck? Anyway, second chemo down. I can’t say the day was as much of a hoot as last time. Mostly because our inappropriate trauma nurse Aaron wasn’t there, so we missed the David Lynch esque experience. But also because my damn veins are shutting down. And I simply refuse to have a portacath surgically inserted. Anyway the persistent and delightful nurses succeeded at attempt number six. I’ll even forgive them the ‘are you still sure you don’t want a portacath inserted’ comment after it all. Because they were delightful. And only concerned for me. And to be honest I was feeling particularly upbeat as I finally got the results of the BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene test back, and I have no genetic mutation. This is clearly brilliant news for my immediate family and especially my beautiful daughters. I can’t pass a gene fault on because I don’t have one. Yehaaa. But before you go down the path of why then, who the fuck knows. About seventy five percent of cancers are not due to known gene mutations, so in this instance I’m one of many. And for my family, pleased to be. Weird as that sounds. No decisions re immediate prophylactic surgeries needed. But vigilance still required. And that is cause for celebration.