Wig First
🌼 Date: Friday, December 26, 2025
⚡ Energy: 🔋🔋 (used wisely, with laughter breaks)
💞Status: Wigged, prepared, medically efficient
😏Outlook: Spicy, realistic, and seeing the damn light
Today we made it to the wig shop—and let me tell you, it was an adventure.
Aunt Dee and Marnie came with us, which immediately guaranteed that dignity would not be present and laughter absolutely would. There were multiple belly-laugh moments. The kind where you have to stop, breathe, and wipe tears from your eyes because someone just said or did something that tipped the whole room over.
I went in with a very clear vision:
Long. Blonde. Tina.
But fate—and apparently my personality—had other plans.
I walked out with a fiery red wig that speaks directly to my spicy side. 🔥
And honestly? Once it was on, it felt right. Bold. Unapologetic. Slightly unhinged in the best way.
I tried on several different styles and colors, and I’m still blown away by the fact that all of these wigs are free, donated by private parties so women like me can have choices. Real choices. Not “this is what’s left,” but actual options.
And it gets better:
- Free wig
- Free shampoo to wash it
- Free detangling spray
- Free comb
All of it. And if I get tired of the red? I can exchange it anytime. No guilt. No hassle.
Naturally, Casey tried the wigs on too, because obviously he did.
There was a brief “who wore it better?” moment, and I will not be accepting feedback at this time.
Because I am nothing if not thorough, I also ordered a blonde wig from Amazon tonight, which will be here Sunday. So between two wigs, several hats, and a variety of head coverings, I should be…
covered.
(Yes. I did that on purpose.)
From there, we went to our normal Friday night Mexican dinner, where I showed up as a spicy redhead and ordered my usual like nothing in my life has changed—because some rituals are sacred.
I have chemo on Monday, so I may not make it to Taco Tuesday or even next Friday’s dinner, depending on how hard round two hits. Round one kicked my butt, and based on watching my son Bryan go through this, each round tends to be a little worse than the last.
That’s okay.
I know what to expect now.
And after Monday?
I’ll be halfway through chemo. Only two treatments left after that. I can see the light, and I’m walking toward it—wig first.
When we got home, we prepped everything for tomorrow. I even got the taco bake ready so all I have to do is dump it in the pan and throw it in the oven before people arrive. Efficiency matters when you’re spending your energy like it’s a limited currency.
Tomorrow morning I head in for lab work so the pharmacist can review everything and make any needed adjustments to my chemo cocktail before Monday. I appreciate not sitting around waiting. I like a plan. I like momentum.
I also put in refill requests today for:
- Steroids (starting Sunday)
- Granix shots (days 3–7 again, wheeee)
And when I pick those up, I’ll also grab two new prescriptions—one for nausea and one for sleep—but I won’t start those until after chemo Monday. Because we follow instructions around here. Mostly.
Today was full.
It was funny.
It was grounding.
And it reminded me that even in the middle of the hard stuff, there is room for laughter, good food, good people, and a red wig that refuses to be ignored.
💗
— Tina
One Badass Day at a Time
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