#chemotherapy wigs

[hairandbeautycanadablog]

Finding Strength in Style: The Journey of Chemotherapy Wig Selection

Join us on a journey of empowerment as we discuss the importance of chemotherapy wig selection in boosting confidence and self-esteem for cancer patients. With practical tips and community resources, this article guides individuals towards finding the perfect wig to suit their unique preferences and needs.

Blog article link: https://rb.gy/77898i

Shop with us: https://hairbeautycanada.com

#hair wigs #wigs #chemotherapy wigs

[inventivehelpinghandsociety]

Cancer Awareness Programs, Wig Donation, Hair Donation, Counselling Session

Inventive Helping Hand Society offers cancer awareness programs to help individuals and families understand cancer and its effects. We provide support, education, and resources to help those affected by cancer.

#Cancer Awareness Programs #Wig Donation #Hair Donation #Counselling Session #Rajasthan’s first campaign for hair donation from people #side effect of chemotherapy

[hairline91]

Losing hair is a complex health condition which leads to life altering changes. The impact can never be measured and therefore it needs medical attention from the time the symptoms appear. It can change an individual’s behavioral pattern thus affecting the personality of the person. It can alter a healthy lifestyle drastically and make anyone get into a shell.

It is one of the best Hair Clinic providing services like Hair Loss Therapy, Hair Graying Therapy, Hair Weaving & Bonding, Hair Transplant, Wigs Cooling Caps for Chemotherapy patients, Hair Extensions, Skin Treatment & Platelet Rich Fibrin Matrix.  We have the best Dermatologists & Trichologists who are highly qualified, experienced, experts in hair restoration & scalp treatment, they suggest effective hair fall treatment, treatment for grey hair. We use advanced technology to treat all kinds of major or minor hair or skin disorders.

#hair treatment #hair loss treatment #hair treatment in bangalore #best hair treatment #word class hair treatment in bangalore #It is one of the best Hair Clinic providing services like Hair Loss Therapy #Hair Graying Therapy #Hair Weaving & Bonding #Hair Transplant #Wigs Cooling Caps for Chemotherapy patients #Hair Extensions #Skin Treatment & Platelet Rich Fibrin Matrix. #- Hair Treatments #Hair & Skin Clinic in Bangalore #Hair transplantation #hair clinics #hair transplant surgeons #hair transplant in Bangalore #Hair transplant in Mumbai #long hair transplant #beard hair transplant #Hairline international clinic #hairline hair & skin clinic #hairline hair transplantation #hairline Bangalore #hairline Mumbai clinic #hairline reviews #hairline hair clinic #Home hair clinic

[happybunnykat]

Gerry's hair isn't badly dyed or his natural color but a secret third thing (a wig bc he's getting chemotherapy)

#a talking bunkat #gerry keay #tmagp spoilers #tmagp #the magnus protocol #I feel like everyone is forgetting he died from cancer in tmag originally #he didn't get killed by an Entity or anything

[michaelajane-gothwitch]

Feeling good. Feeling Wicked. Feeling the Witchy Wednesday feeling! Fuck cancer. Let's 'av some fun! . . #cancer #cancerwarrior #cancerfighter #livingwithcancer #lifewithcancer #chemo #chemotherapy #cancerawareness #breastcancer #cancermakeup #hairloss #nohair #wigs #wig #wiglovers #colourfulwigs #hairinspiration #hairstyles #goth #gothic #gothwitch #witch #witchcraft #pagan #solitarywitch #witchesofinstagram #blogger #nofilter (at Darlington, Co Durham) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc2bkhgLyby/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#cancer #cancerwarrior #cancerfighter #livingwithcancer #lifewithcancer #chemo #chemotherapy #cancerawareness #breastcancer #cancermakeup #hairloss #nohair #wigs #wig #wiglovers #colourfulwigs #hairinspiration #hairstyles #goth #gothic #gothwitch #witch #witchcraft #pagan #solitarywitch #witchesofinstagram #blogger #nofilter

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

“We vividly remember when she (The Princess of Wales) donated her own hair for wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy. The fact that she herself is now undergoing chemotherapy is very sad, and our thoughts and good wishes are with her throughout this journey.”

#crying again 😭😭 #daffodil #Princess of Wales #ktd #kate middleton #catherine middleton #Princess Kate #princess catherine #the princess of wales #brf #royalty #Women #health #British monarchy #british royal family #royal #european royalty

[smallgodseries]

[image description: A woman is shown in profile, looking at herself in a hand mirror with surprise and delight. Her hairdo resembles Elsa Lanchester’s in James Whale’s 1935 Bride of Frankenstein. She wears a lightning-bolt earring, and a white shirt against a deep green background. Text reads, “26 Tesla Jefferson – Small God of Experimental Hairdos.”]

It’s only hair, she whispers, sweet and sultry as a summer breeze.  It grows back.  So live a little.

She is in every pair of scissors, every comb, every bottle of bleach or tube of dye.  Her hands, clad in sanitary latex, move through every stylist in the world at least once.

Her gifts are sometimes subtle.  An inch off the ponytail of a scared sorority girl; new bangs for a child who has never worn them before.

Her gifts are sometimes wild, tangled, and untamed.  Electric colors.  Perms and buzzcuts and sculptural formations fit to scrape the sky.  Like any artist, she matches her art to the audience.

It’s only hair, she whispers.  Express yourself.

She is with the young musician shellacking Elmer’s glue into his mohawk, encouraging it to reach higher and higher, hair set to reach up and touch the stars.

She is with the old woman who takes a bottle of temporary dye into the shower at her granddaughter’s urging, stepping out with wet curls as pink as a Sunday sunrise, with the blushing cheeks to match.

She is with the teen who cries slow, sad tears as the last of their chemotherapy-stricken hair drops away under the stylist’s clippers, as they open the box containing the rainbow wig they requested from their parents.  It fits like a dream.  It brushes their cheeks like a kiss.

She doesn’t care how conservative your experiment seems to anyone else.

It’s your skin.  It’s your hair.  And she thinks, always, that it looks amazing.

[exitrowiron]

The Death of My Mother

After a years-long courageous battle with breast cancer, my mother died on October 11, 2023 with my sister Lori and I holding her hands and my wife Beth by her side. She was 83 years old. 

Over 20 years ago a cancerous lump was discovered and removed, followed by radiation. All seemed well for over a decade as she and my dad enjoyed a very active retirement. A few years ago, the cancer was detected again and the mastectomy came too late to contain it.  

She endured years of chemotherapy, proceeding to a new drug therapy as soon as old one ended. Despite the unexpected death of my father nearly two years ago, she doggedly continued her treatment. Because she’d been athletic all her life, she tolerated more chemotherapy than her oncologist could remember giving anyone else. It wasn’t enough. 

She was determined not to let her life be dominated by her cancer; she continued to travel, paint, sew and entertain friends. She was assisted by my sister and uncle, both of whom lived in the same town as her; making sure she was safe and accompanying her to doctor visits, chemo treatments, etc.  

Despite the rigors of chemotherapy, you’d not have suspected her condition if you saw her in the grocery store. She lost weight, but with her wig and bubbly personality, she looked well, better in fact than most of her peers. She often went to the gym immediately after receiving an infusion, knowing she’d be too weak to do so in a day or two. Ultimately the breast cancer continued to spread, causing fluid to gather around a lung and ultimately metastasizing into a painful, inflamed cancer on her skin. 

In August she was struggling with the latest chemotherapy, having to suspend/postpone rounds until her anemia and overall strength could improve. The regimen was simply too taxing, and she was considering stopping treatment, despite the consequences of this decision. Then she had her first fall. In the middle of the night on the way back to her bed from the bathroom, she lost her balance and fell, cutting a large gash in her nose on the way to floor. She made it back to her bed and waited a few hours before finally calling my sister for assistance. She wasn’t wearing the Apple Watch we’d purchased for her explicitly for this purpose after my father’s death. 

The fall was unnerving for her (and all of us), but my sister installed motion-detector night lights and we reminded her to wear her Apple Watch. Despite the fall, she did well living independently, continuing to drive, etc. I offered to visit and spend a few nights with her, but my son’s wedding was approaching and she declined my offer. She did, however, remind me of her wish to never go to a nursing home; she had sufficient savings to afford in-home care when the time came. 

Although she didn’t resume treatment after the fall, her condition stabilized and she seemed to be gathering strength. Even the fluid around her lung, which had caused a troublesome cough and required drainage every so often was improving. Reluctant to make any concessions to her illness, she was forced to cancel the cruise she’d planned to take with Beth, me and a friend after Brady’s wedding.  

When our son Brady contracted Covid a week before his wedding, she wisely decided not to attend the wedding as well. The trip from Indiana to Maine would have been too difficult even with my sister’s help, and the risk of Covid gave her an acceptable excuse to cancel. 

In the early morning hours of September 13, however, Mom felt very dizzy and generally unwell so she reached out to neighbors for help (Lori was out of town). An ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital where she was diagnosed with A-Fib and extreme covid. (A-Fib is one of the symptoms of the new Covid variant). Again, she wasn’t wearing her Apple Watch. We were sad that Mom had been infected with Covid, but relieved that she’d not gotten it from attending Brady’s wedding.  (Actually, no one got sick from Brady’s wedding.) 

Her blood work in the hospital was terrible, but again she rallied (with the help of Prednisone) and she was much improved by the time I took her home on Sunday, just 5 days after she was admitted. I stayed at the house and helped her for two weeks. During this time, she was weak but still able to care for herself with some assistance from me (preparing meals, cleaning the house, laundry, driving, etc.). She was well enough to resume her lifelong habit of creating a daily to-do list each morning on a yellow legal pad. Visits to her doctor (including a CT scan with contrast) gave her hope. She was diagnosed with pericarditis (fluid around the heart) as a result of Covid, but cancer activity was nominal. The cancer was still present but it wasn’t aggressively spreading. She was given hopeful instructions to concentrate on recovering from Covid.  

Her list of medications continued to grow in number and dosing complexity.  I made a spreadsheet to keep it straight. Xanax was added to the mix to help ease her growing anxiety. In the middle of the night, she would wake in fear that she was having trouble breathing (but her blood O2 was still good). All this was manageable, but she wasn’t eating so she continued to lose weight and when the prednisone course ended, she began to get weaker. 

I can’t cook but I did my best to prepare or purchase simple comfort food. No matter how absent her appetite she could always to be tempted into eating a Wendy’s frosty or DQ milkshake. She spent more and more time each day sleeping, in between bouts of fretting over how much she was sleeping. Ever the athlete, she insisted on walking laps inside the house and down the street in an effort to exercise herself to good health. She simply refused to accept this decline as inevitable and irreversible. Finally, one of her trusted doctors had to advise her to concentrate on rest and postpone the training sessions for a few weeks. 

Just a few weeks earlier, Holley, her beloved sister-in-law had a large tumor removed from her colon and was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.  Holley’s condition had worsened quickly and as a result Mom's brother, a retired orthopedic surgeon, was understandably preoccupied with his wife’s condition. Holley was admitted to a hospital and rallied briefly before going to hospice. Holley passed away after just a few days in hospice but with my help Mom was able to visit her three times. 

I’d been in Evansville for two weeks when Holley died; this was a week longer than I’d expected and I’d run out of contacts lenses and didn’t have appropriate clothing for my aunt’s funeral.  Meanwhile, Mom continued to weaken, sleeping more and eating still less. She needed a caregiver in the house 24x7 so my sister and I began contacting agencies and secured caregivers before my departure. 

I was at our home in Washington for just 2 days before returning with Beth and clothes for Holley’s funeral and the expectation that we would be back home in a week. We flew into St. Louis and rented a car to drive to Evansville, planning to attend the funeral and then return to St. Louis to spend time with her parents for a few days before departing. With the in-home caregiver situation largely resolved for Mom, I assumed her condition would stabilize for a while. 

Beth and I had a hotel, but all that week I was at the house with Mom during the day before leaving when the nighttime caregiver arrived. Holley’s funeral was on Tuesday but Mom was too weak to attend.  That same day she requested a walker. There was no doubt she needed one, but her requesting it was a psychological concession on her part. We secured the walker that day and that night she insisted that I help her walk three laps inside the house, “to help her get better”. 

On Wednesday, a home oxygen concentrator was delivered. The oxygen machine was mostly for psychological support – knowing it was there if she needed it (and she rarely needed it). By this time it was obvious that Mom’s condition wasn’t going to plateau and that despite her preference, she needed care in a professional healthcare setting.  I’d broached this subject with Mom earlier in the week and she’d resisted. Through tears she said, “Going to someplace like that is a slippery slope and I don’t want to get on the slippery slope.” She still refused to acknowledge the inevitability of her situation. I gently responded, “Mom, you’re on the slippery slope. I’m concerned that if you stay in the house, something might happen, you could fall for instance, and we wouldn’t be able to get you up and you won’t be able to recover.” 

Evansville is a relatively small city and staffing 24X7 caregivers couldn’t be done with a single agency.  My sister cobbled together a network of caregivers that friends in similar situations had used but Mom’s needs were increasing beyond even this network. I reminded Mom that we’d spend any amount of money to keep her in her house, but we were running into limitations we couldn’t overcome. 

Her brother set aside his grief over the death of this own wife and visited Mom on Wednesday. At our request he encouraged her to go to Primrose. Primrose is an assisted living facility which their friends had used and it had a good reputation. Mom reluctantly agreed to go. Lori and I had toured Primrose that day and provided a deposit in the hope we could secure a room immediately, pending their evaluation of Mom’s needs. Even if accepted at Primrose, however, we would still need to provide 24x7 caregivers to be in Mom’s room at all times. In deference to Mom however, we pursued this option rather than a skilled nursing facility.  

By Thursday we’d secured a wheelchair as she could no longer use the walker safely.  She was sleeping practically all day, eating almost nothing, and required assistance to stand.  

By Friday she couldn’t get out of chair or stand on her own. I had to do most of the work with a lifting strap. Unfortunately, the Primrose evaluation was scheduled for the following Tuesday. Beth and I were supposed to drive to St. Louis to return the rental car before flying home on Saturday, but it was obvious I couldn’t leave. I borrowed a car from my sister, followed Beth to St. Louis to return the rental car before driving back to Evansville on Saturday. 

When we returned on Saturday Mom had declined still further, awake but too weak to talk or open her eyes or eat or toilet. It was clear that Mom needed to go to hospice, the same hospice used by her sister-in-law just a week earlier.  We let her sleep that afternoon and when the ambulance arrived around 5, I had to wake her and tell her that we were taking her to Deaconess. This was intentionally misleading but accurate. Deaconess is the health system that runs the hospital she’d used as well as the hospice. I said we need to go to Deaconess because she needed more care than we could provide in order for her to get better. She resisted by saying, “But why, I’m just sleeping?” This was a difficult conversation, but I was insistent and patient and eventually she allowed me to lift her out of her chair, help her onto the gurney and ride with her in the ambulance to the hospice center. 

Fortunately, Mom was too weak to open her eyes so she didn’t realize she was being wheeled into the hospice center, into a room identical to Holley’s (the suite next door actually). It was clear that we couldn’t have waited any longer to move Mom to hospice. She immediately required a catheter and her bladder had obviously been full and uncomfortable.  

The Linda White hospice center is a beautiful new facility attached to a Deaconess hospital. Each suite has a large sitting area for family/guests and an attached bedroom with two twin beds. The hospice administers medication, moves and toilets the patient but other than that they only come when alerted with a call button.  Mom was frequently conscious but rarely opened her eyes and couldn’t use the call button. Lori, Beth or I were with Mom from 8 am to 11 pm each day and then one of our outside caregivers stayed with Mom overnight.  

The first evening was difficult. Weeks of opioid painkillers left her painfully constipated. She refused to use a bedpan so I lifted her onto a bedside chair/toilet. This was unsuccessful so we returned her to bed, the nurse administered a suppository and an hour later we repeated the process, this time with some success. I’ve never provided such hands-on care to an adult. It was humbling for everyone. My mom was such a proud woman, always careful in her appearance and to see her stripped of all of this, practically naked and utterly helpless as I lifted her off the bed was sobering. I only cared for my mother for a few days/weeks and always had lots of paid assistance as well as the help of my sister – I can’t begin to imagine the strength and patience of those who care for their parents full time for an extended period. 

On Sunday, the swelling of my Mom’s feet which had begun a few days earlier grew much worse. The nurse informed us that this was significant a development and indicated that Mom was experiencing congestive heart failure. Mom remained marginally responsive though with her eyes closed and she was able to minimally engage with the friends who came to visit her. 

Mom continued to generally deny the reality of her situation and in order to avoid upsetting her, we placed this message on the door to her suite: 

Mom did make one concession to her condition, however, she asked to be visited by her parish priest. We left the room when he visited to pray, hear her confession, and deliver the last rites. 

By Monday morning Mom was barely able to swallow her oral medications and we accepted the nurse’s recommendation to begin administering comfort medication (morphine, etc.) intravenously using the port which had been previously used for chemotherapy. 

Mom’s condition continued to deteriorate; she stopped eating completely and drank very little. Answers to yes or no questions were difficult. Monday and Tuesday were spent in quiet vigil, interrupted only by the occasional visitor. Mom couldn’t respond but was likely conscious at least occasionally. In what I believed was a moment of lucidity, I told her I loved her and that she’d been a great mom and done well with her life. This would have a been a good conversation to have a few weeks ago or even a few days ago, but she was never willing to accept her impending death. I took occasional breaks to get a meal or workout, confident that my sister would alert me of any changes. As Mom continued to sleep, I started and completed her obituary as well as the slide show to be shown during the visitation at the funeral home.  

Lori and I chose to spend the night with her Tuesday night, sleeping in shifts. I was surprised she was still with us on Wednesday morning when Beth arrived and thought (feared) she might linger in this condition for a few days. Beth and I had just left her room on our way to the hotel to shower and change clothes when we heard the tech nurse call urgently. We quickly returned to Mom’s room and the charge nurse informed us, “It is happening now.” Lori had also stepped out of the room briefly and Beth went to retrieve her. It was obvious that Mom was dying at that moment and that she somehow timed it for the only moment in the past 48 hours in which both Lori and I had been out of the room.  Lori and I each held one of Mom’s hands. We could see that she’d stopped breathing, but I could still feel Mom’s pulse in her hand. Lori and I spoke to Mom, telling her we loved her, reassuring her that her family was fine and congratulating her on a life well lived. Her pulse continued for 30 seconds until it weakened and stopped. The color had drained from her face and she was gone. 

After a few more minutes of farewells and hugs amongst ourselves, we tidied the room and left with the pictures, flowers, and mementos we’d brought in an effort to make her comfortable. We headed to my sister’s home where I poured myself a large whiskey and offered the first of many toasts I will make to the memory of my wonderful mother.  

I left home as a freshman in college and except for the summer break before my sophomore year, never again lived at home (or in the same city as my parents) for more than a few days. Married at 23, Beth and I lived in St. Louis, Dallas, Minneapolis, Bellevue and now a small town in the Cascades in Washington state. My mom always hoped we’d move to Evansville and occasionally I felt guilty for not spending more time with my parents, but it was best for me personally and professionally as well as my marriage that we never lived closer than a few hours away and usually much further than that.  

Despite this long physical absence (or perhaps because of it), we were always on good terms and avoided much of the drama that can ensnare parent/adult child relationships. I’m at peace knowing that when my mom needed support and a caregiver, I stepped up and fulfilled my obligation. I did the right thing and have no regrets. 

[citricyanide]

no because the gerry discourse is crazy and i'm honestly on neither side of it. i propose (hear me out on this!!!) that he's bald and wears a black wig. he doesn't need root touch ups anymore because the chemotherapy caused him to loose all of his terribly dyed hair.

#tmagp gerry #tma gerry #tmagp theory #gerard keay #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 8 #tmagp #the magnus archives

[hairfixingz]

Choose the safest technique for your hair restoration!!

Hair Fixing Zone, Nonsurgical hair fixing is an instant way of getting complete head covers that can manage any size and any kind of hair loss. Hair replacement is available. Book an appointment: [phone],

#hair wigs #chemotherapy wigs #hair replacement #hair patches in indiranagar

[sassyfrassboss]

Does hair grow back after chemotherapy or not? I have not known anyone who has had cancer before but I know they can end up wearing wigs

Yes it does...but it also depends on what type you are receiving. With today's advances in medicine, not all chemo treatments result in hair loss.

[elizaellwrites]

I'm thinking about cutting off about 6 inches (15 cm) of my hair, which is currently to my waist. I need to cut at least some of it off because the weight is leading to more migraines than my average. I'm thinking of chopping more off because I don't like the feeling of my hair being cut, even when I'm doing it myself.

To most people, this is straightforward, and I feel kind of dumb for stressing about something that will grow back in about a year. It's also become hard for me to manage all the time, and truly would probably be less of a hassle.

Why am I hesitating?

I'm 90% sure I have autism. Change is uncomfortable, and even the thought of the weight difference that I need to stop some of these migraines causes me anxiety.

I have what I can only describe as "Hair Trauma" that is not directly related to me. When I was young, I watched my mom slowly lose her hair to chemotherapy. While she tried her best to hide her struggles, this was something dear to her that was taken and never grew back. Despite wearing a wig, she had lost part of herself.

The idea of losing hair is deeply tied into having lost my mom, and in my memories of her being sick for years. Having witnessed that, I have always cherished my hair, and have that voice in the back of my mind reminding me that I might lose it too.

Cutting my hair has nothing to do with losing my hair as a whole, but it is losing the hair that I've had. I used to cut it short all the time, and I have no trouble trimming the ends or my bangs to keep it looking nice. I've even donated two feet of hair at one point before growing it all back. Logically, this doesn't make any sense at all.

I'm struggling to figure out why this is bothering me so much right now, and how I can come to terms with doing something. I feel like this is a debate in my mind that shouldn't even be happening, but at the same time, it feels like it's part of my being.

At the same time, it's become hard to care for since I'm busy all the time, and I feel like it's time to do this.

#personal #bit of a rant #rant about myself #not writing #i don't know what to call this really #eliza's hair crisis

[barbielore]

February 4th is World Cancer day so I wanted to take a moment to briefly acknowledge this. As I have posted about before last October, Barbie has a history with the subject of cancer as her creator Ruth Handler was herself a survivor. As a result it is no surprise that Barbie has had tie-in dolls with the Susan G Komen foundation.

Also worth noting is that Mattel has an ongoing collaboration with CureSearch, a childhood cancer charity. Mattel's contribution here is with Brave Barbie, a doll line now running for over 10 years.

To quote the Executive Director of Mattel Children's Foundation and Corporate Philanthropy, Nancy Molenda, as quoted in the linked article on the CureSearch website:

Brave Barbie is given to children that are going through difficult cancer treatments so that they can see themselves and feel comforted that they’re not going through this alone.

Brave Barbies are donated to children fighting childhood cancer and depict either a light-skinned or a darker-skinned doll with no hair as well as a 'natural' coloured wig, a cute multi-coloured wig and a bandanna.

Mattel has also produced another doll in a similar range; friend of Barbie Ella, who was not for retail sale, but available only by donation to childrens hospitals, and depicted a friend of Barbie experiencing hair loss due to chemotherapy.

Cancer is a tragedy that affects many people and I am not going to ask you to donate to any particular charity or to engage in any particular kind of activism but I do encourage you to seek out a charity that suits you and that you personally would like to see support behind, if you are in a position where charity work or donations are right for you at the moment.

#barbie #ella friend of barbie #bald barbies #cancer #childhood cancer #susan g komen #world cancer day #brave barbie #curesearch

[hairline91]

Losing hair is a complex health condition which leads to life altering changes. The impact can never be measured and therefore it needs medical attention from the time the symptoms appear. It can change an individual’s behavioral pattern thus affecting the personality of the person. It can alter a healthy lifestyle drastically and make anyone get into a shell.

It is one of the best Hair Clinic providing services like Hair Loss Therapy, Hair Graying Therapy, Hair Weaving & Bonding, Hair Transplant, Wigs Cooling Caps for Chemotherapy patients, Hair Extensions, Skin Treatment & Platelet Rich Fibrin Matrix.  We have the best Dermatologists & Trichologists who are highly qualified, experienced, experts in hair restoration & scalp treatment, they suggest effective hair fall treatment, treatment for grey hair. We use advanced technology to treat all kinds of major or minor hair or skin disorders.

#hairlin clinic #hair transplant #hair treatment #bets hair transplant in bnaglore #word class hair transplant #Hair Loss Therapy #Hair Graying Therapy #Hair Weaving & Bonding #Hair Transplant #Wigs Cooling Caps for Chemotherapy patients #Hair Extensions #Skin Treatment & Platelet Rich Fibrin Matrix.

[aardvaark]

only murders in the building s3e9 spoilers below the cut! thoughts & theories

so. all my thoughts from last week proved eerily correct (poisoned cookies, donna as murderer, paper being review, etc), which makes me think that i’m very, very wrong in some important way lol.

considering donna said that one line from the review word-for-word stop sitzprobe, it seems like she did read the review. however, now i’m guessing one of 3 things: 1. she read it and disliked it but didn’t do much about it, 2. she read it and disliked it and destroyed it in KT’s office shredder that night but didn’t kill ben, or 3. she read it, disliked it, destroyed it, and poisoned ben, but didn’t push him down the elevator shaft. ie, she’s the perpetrator of the first murder, but not the second.

so why don’t i just immediately assume that the third is true? because of oliver’s dip-cake. charles says that the only dip he has in the fridge is norwegian red herring. yk, like the trope of a red herring… a clue that is an intentional misdirect in a story. i think that the dip flavour is not at all a random choice. and since the only major clue we get in that scene is the review, then that review is probably a red herring (trope, not dip).

another thought about donna: last episode, we saw her throwing up in the bathrooms (which she blames on stress) and adjusting her hair. someone on one of my posts told me that she appeared to be wearing a wig (/edit/ thank you to @kimbearablykute for that comment!). obviously, wearing a wig could be because of a massive number of things, from having alopecia, to being a married orthodox jewish woman, to simply liking wigs. however, for the purposes of this theory, im gonna assume that it’s another symptom alongside the vomiting… and hair loss + vomiting makes me think chemotherapy. the reason she was "in and out of the party all night" as our podcasters say, could be because she was throwing up or otherwise feeling tired and ill all night.

i honestly don’t know yet what her possible chemo (and therefore, cancer) will have to do with everything else. just a musing at this point. maybe it will be a driving reason as to why she would commit murder for her son’s sake? cause she’s already dying so she can sacrifice herself, plus she has little time left to get him his success? or perhaps it will be the reason she’s innocent? maybe being sick from chemo is why she was frequently absent from the party, and surveillance footage can prove she was just going to the bathrooms to throw up? maybe it will prove that she wouldn’t have the strength to fight ben and push him down the elevator? although, with the element of surprise on your side, i don’t think it would be too hard to push someone down the elevator shaft.

perhaps she is the poisoner, and the review is just a red herring because that’s not her real motive. her real motive… is… um… okay im stuck.

tobert was conveniently right outside ben’s dressing room, just after the cookie had been delivered. if donna didn’t do that part, then it’s possible that he did. he’s also still on the possible suspects list for the second murder, and that list is getting increasingly narrower. he now has a motive for the second murder at least - being fired by ben on opening night. he got fired too late to have poisoned the cookies of course, so i think he might be in the clear for the first one.

i’ll be annoyed if it’s someone obscure, like bobo. or some already very established background character, like howard or uma or sazz pitazz. that would make it feel like the writers have just pulled it out their asses. like "deus ex machina" meets "the butler did it". is there a word for that?

anyway, moving on.

i think it’s very possible that cliff had something to do with the first or second (or both) murder attempts. same motive as donna, really: upset that the play wasn’t going to plan, not wanting to let it ruin his reputation before it had even begun, and therefore killing the lead (shitty) actor to prevent the play from ever being seen. donna might give herself in for him, much like meryl streep has confessed for dickie’s sake. i feel that cliff could definitely have been the second murderer, either wanting to protect his mother if she committed the first attempt on ben’s life, or simply fighting/assaulting him near the elevators and possibly accidentally pushing him over the ledge. something like that. or maybe for the same reasons we suspect donna, or maybe because he realised how much better off he was when ben was believed to be dead.

lowkey what if cinda actually did do this one? i mean, she’s always put forth as a possible suspect and is always the wrong choice, so it’s unlikely. but maybe she really wants to get back to podcasting, so she killed a famous guy. idk.

who else can i even suspect… maxine (the reviewer)? well she’s only been around a little bit, and if the review is a red herring, then that seems to count her out. the guy who lives in the attic at the theatre? seems like he was introduced too late and too briefly.

the doctor feeding ben drugs? actually i guess that’s possible, and he may even be the attic guy since they dress the same… i think the killer had to have been behind some of the sandbag and light shenanigans in Ghost Light (s3e6), and attic guy would have had access. doctor would have motive if he was trying to prevent ben from exposing the fact that he’s just giving out drugs.

speaking of people with access to the sandbags and lights: the paper shredder was in KT’s office… is she too obscure to have been the murderer? we don’t see much of her though. but she has been noted to have some anger issues in this latest ep, her office was suspiciously locked on opening night, and actually she could have the same motive of donna or cliff, to keep the shitty show from premiering.

just to keep track, i think that joy, kimber, ty, loretta, dickie and jonathan have been clearly discounted as suspects.

uh so yeah i’m super tired and that’s all my thoughts for tonight! thanks folks! i might update this when i get up, but it’s 2am and i have stuff to do tomorrow so i need some sleep now lol.

#omitb #only murders in the building #omitb season 3 #omitb spoilers #omitb theories #omitb s3e9 #wren speaks #only murders s3

[power-chords]

re: your wig! im sorry, thats rough. i was just shocked at how realistic it looks! can i ask if it is fun for you deciding what wig to wear next like. a new haircut for every day ending in y?

It's cool, I'm used to it! I'm not going to lie and pretend it's been easy, or that I don't wish every day that it hadn't happened. Hair loss is not fun for anybody, regardless of age or gender. With that said, of all the times mine could have picked to fall out, a global pandemic was pretty convenient in terms of giving me ample opportunity to process the experience emotionally and also acclimate to wearing hair. Every time I catch myself feeling sorry for myself, I'm like, "It's just alopecia." I mean it's not JUST alopecia but the bummer in this situation is entirely cosmetic. I know women on Instagram going through this and cancer and chemotherapy and I try to keep that perspective in mind, that of all the reasons most of my hair could have fallen out, this is hardly the worst one.

There are some things about wigs that are definitely fun, like the ability to completely change your look without damaging your hair or spending a zillion bucks at a salon. Both human hair and synthetic wig options have gotten sooooo much better even just within the past 10-15 years or so, and there's a whole indie/secondhand market that has sprung up on social media that has made finding them and buying them that much more accessible. But for the most part it's kind of a drag, lol. It's still $1500-2000 out the door every year (wigs have a finite lifespan of about 1-3 years depending on the manufacturer/wear and tear) and in the summer it's extra annoying to have something sitting on your head, even though the wigs I wear are open-wefted and allow plenty of air circulation. I wish I gave less of a shit about the whole scalp situation and felt OK leaving the house without something covering it, but it is what it is. I may get there someday!

For now I'm just happy that I have the ability to throw a wig on with as much convenience and confidence as any article of clothing from my wardrobe, and when I do I look in the mirror and feel like myself again.