Palliative Care Hair A free verse poem celebrating Anne’s first visit to the hairdresser since the onset of her disease Today, Anne’s scalp blooms again— silver tufts bristle through the thaw of winter, as if the dawn has stroked the frost from barren fields. The salon chair rises to cradle her— throne of gentle..
Anne is a moulting kitten: Chemotherapy is the culprit My darling wife Anne is moulting. Her hair is falling out in clumps, the ravages of three weeks of intensive chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Our home is sprinkled with a thick layer of her hair, just as it is after we visit our son..