The Good Things

The Good Things

The Good Things, x

I need to tell you a little about my diagnosis to fully understand the depth of fate, and the magical way the universe guides us if we open our hearts.

On a hot and steamy afternoon in October of 2012, I was eagerly waiting for my appointment with Mandy, Mandy a Medium and a lady I had met several times in the past was getting ready for my reading and I was excited to see who of my loved ones who had passed on would be coming through for me today.

We greeted each other and I followed into her room, we settled, and she began channelling, I was relaxed and anxious with excitement all at the same time….

Nothing happened….

For 10 minutes she was silent,

She looked up and said, try and relax, uncross legs and arms and concentrate on who you’d like to come through.

I thought I was doing all that, but I tried harder, I took some deep breaths and relaxed.

Still nothing, it was getting a little awkward by now and Mandy said, do you have any questions? Maybe I can get things going that way.

I didn’t really, I said, I guess I was waiting to see who came through and what they told me…

We chatted about my kids and work and then tried to concentrate again to invite anyone who had passed over to reach out to me….

Still nothing happened.

Mandy suggested we end the session, saying it just wasn’t our day.’

Confused, I said “I’ve had many readings before, but nothing like this, is this common?’

Look to be completely honest with you there was one person who came through strongly from the start of our session.’ She replied, a little sheepishly.

I was reluctant to tell you, but I feel I should tell you what I saw.

My Aunt who died of breast cancer in her forties came to you immediately.

She stood behind you the entire time and waved a red flag above your head.

She also stopped anyone else from coming through,

Now I am not saying you have Breast Cancer, or you’ll get it but my Aunt has been known to appear to those who have Cancer.

I am sorry she said, but I think its best to tell you.

Stunned, I could not speak, I paid the $80 fee, begrudgingly and left.

 

If anything, it made me check my breasts for lumps, I had never been a regular checker, in fact my GP used to give me a breast exam every 2 years when I had a pap test and that was about it...

So now I was a regular checker, and I did find a lump a couple of months later...

I went to the GP, and was sent for a Mammogram, he noticed my nipple had sunk in and was concerned, I wasn’t aware that an inverted nipple was a sign of BC.

They found a few lumps, sent me for a biopsy and that same day, without even waiting for the results he told me I had BC. the next thing I remember was sitting on the footpath in the main street outside the specialist office uncontrollably crying. The specialist had asked me about my Children, their ages, how each one will react to the news, and he would try and get 5 years more out of me, with treatment.

They asked me to come back inside and pay.

I replied are you serious, can you give me a minute?

I fumbled with my phone, calling my parents, and husband. No one answered.

It seemed like hours but about 15 minutes later after people trudging past me constantly a lady stopped.

She was a Muslim woman, dressed from head to toe in Black.

She asked if I was, ok?

I snapped back NO.

She asked if she could do anything/ Call anyone?

By that stage my husband was on his way.

I replied, no its ok my husband is coming.

She said what’s wrong? I told her I had just had some Bad news,

She took my hand, looked me in the eye and spoke

Find the Good’ Something good always comes from something bad, you just have to look for it. And she walked away.

I muttered under my breath, yes whatever’ and continued to drown in my blubbering mess.

 

The months after that consisted of tears, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation and a million blood tests and visits to specialists and hospitals.

My GP had told me to write the year off and concentrate on the treatments. He was right, I could barely concentrate on anything but which appointment I had coming up!

I was extremely lucky to have my Daughter home, she postponed work and was running the show for me, Shopping, meals and keeping track of the dozens of appointments and tests every week,

My dad was doing the school bus pick ups and drop offs so if I couldn’t get off the couch I didn’t have to.

At the same time my mother-in-law was debating whether to demolish an old family home. I had no idea what I would do post treatment but was beginning to need something to do or somewhere to go in the weeks after chemo when I was feeling ok.

So, she allowed me to begin renovating instead of demolishing the house.

We thought it could be a good little shop or office for a small business.

I had sold my hairdressing salon when I was diagnosed so I wasn’t sure what I would do work wise in the future, I felt it was time for a change but that was as far as my train of thought went.

I was enjoying renovating and was so lucky to have a project to keep my mind from sinking into a hole and lolling around at home.

After another month or so of radiation treatment the new shop was taking shape. It sort of just began turning into another salon and I was contemplating going back to work so it would be a great base.

I began working 2 days a week, which was all my body could take after the rigorous year my body and mind had undertaken.

Was I excited? Not really. It was a matter of money I guess; I had just had a year off work with no income, so the bank balance was dismal.

I worked my two days, but always felt a little disappointed that I had sunk back into the same old grind as before.

The months passed and I needed a little more income, I had a couple of job interviews without any luck until I saw an opening for a wig shop assistant.

The trauma of losing my hair was deep seeded, the memories of wearing wigs and headwear or more so the feelings associated with the hair loss was still ripe in my mind.

I guess the hardest part of hairloss due to chemotherapy is the visual and physical reminder of cancer, its every time you look in a mirror, or run your hands over your bald head.

Apart from the emotions, the maze of information about wigs when its all so new and you are in a desperate hurry is an awful lot to absorb.

Then there’s the confidence factor: Will people be able to tell I’m wearing a wig? Is it going to blow off on a windy day? Will it slip and I might be walking around with skewwhiff hair?

 

Was it too early to put my recent experience into a job? Probably: It was still raw, every part of it.

I went for the job anyway:

Sitting in the interview with the head of the company, pretending to be confident, a little white fluffy dog appeared, it ran around my feet, tried to jump up on my legs and was genuinely excitable.

I tried to ignore it as I was trying to remain professional and on task.

“Oh, just ignore the fluff ball” the man said,

We are ultimately a worldwide retailer for fashion wigs, extensions, and hair pieces.

Lately we have been attracting a lot of Cancer patients, these women are more worried about losing their hair than the Cancer they have” he went on to say that he can’t deal with all the tears and emotions, so he sends in the fluffy dog to play with them, then they calm down a bit.

These women will be your main job he said, they know nothing about wigs, and you can sell them anything, generally we try and offer them the most expensive stock as they don’t know any difference and are willing to spend any amount to feel better”

Stunned at his ignorance and lack of empathy for women with Cancer I wrapped up the interview with no chit chat.

Disgusted I walked out and decided on my way home that I was going to open a wig shop and hopefully look after these women with my knowledge and give them the respect they deserve.

Money was an issue…….?? How would I fund a new business? Lucky money had never been an obstacle for me, I never had it but could always find it if I needed it.

And so Wigsisters was born.

One room of 20 wigs and a little selection of headwear turned into two rooms 50 wigs and more accessories.

I now volunteer for the Cancer council and work at their Look Good Feel Better workshops to share information with Ladies about wigs, headscarves, tips, tricks and genuine care.

I travel extensively to wig libraries and hospitals for information days, workshops and pop-up shops for regional ladies.

My little shop continues to grow, my days were filled with love, laughter, tears and every other emotion possible to have in one day.

My clients are Ladies who have been newly diagnosed and know they will lose their hair.

I try with every appointment to care for their needs as easily, affordable and as functional to wear as possible, I give them the time and empathy they deserve, and I always try to encourage them to look for the Good things”

For some women a good thing might be that they will save a few bucks on hairdresser visits for a few months. It matters not how small a good thing is, the fact is any good thing is better than another Bad’ and they’ve had enough bad’ handed to them already.

When they leave and that might be a few hours later sometimes, they are feeling confident and ready to face their hairloss head-on.

They look good, they feel beautiful, and I feel privileged that I could help them for a brief time to feel some Good things”

They bounce back a few months later looking for a Blingy hat or a new wig for a party or function they’re attending, they’ve scraped through treatments, found the window that opened when the door closed and found some Good in amongst the Bad”

I often look to the skies and thanks my Muslim friend for her words of wisdom when I really was not interested in listening. I whisper to her, I found it!

I found the Good in the Bad, and have the opportunity every day to help other Ladies find that little ray of Good”

😊 My heart is Full x

 

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