Looking for my eyebrows.
They are disappearing. I was warned that the treatment I'm getting for the Bengal Lancer would cause me to lose my body hair, but not the hair on my scalp. Well, the underarm hair has gone; that on arms and legs has virtually disappeared; and the hair surrounding the family jewels is looking sparse. Still as long as I keep my clothes on I won't frighten the horses.
What the consultant, nurses, didn't mention was facial hair, but it appears to me that the brows are disappearing, lashes too may be getting thinner.
I'm no body fascist but I have to admit that men without eyebrows and eyelashes look rather sinister to me. Am I going to end up fearing to look in a mirror (never a morale boosting experience)? Add that worry to the misery of increased weight, and I feel entitled to a heavy bout of self-pity. Who knows, maybe depression is on the cards. It seems at the moment that the only way is down.
Last week I made it to 75 years, three-quarters of a century, but I didn't feel well enough for a good piss-up, just shared a few beers with my elder son who had a day off work. This weekend I'm going to cop for a bottle of eau-de-vie, turn on the music, and get rat-arsed.