The great exodus has begun. My hair is fleeing my head in unimaginable quantities. My shower drain and bathroom sink look like a Wookiee bathes here. When I rolled my car window down earlier this week, I could see strands of hair blowing out the window the entire drive. I snorted a strand up my nose when I laughed this afternoon. It's funny and troubling at the same time.
I'm okay with being bald, in theory. I'm fine with donning scarves and rocking hats for the summer. What I'm struggling with is that right now, when I go out on my good days, the whole world doesn't know I'm sick. I feel like when my hair is gone, I'll have a giant neon sign over my head blaring "cancer patient".
I've tried to come up with ways to make this fun. Anna and Henry will be my barbers when the time comes. Anna is unbelievably (freakishly) excited about this. Reflecting on her bedside manner as a toddler doctor, this was maybe not my best plan of action! I've bought myself some fun scarves to wear and found some different ways to tie them on YouTube. We're planning to draw Voldemort's face on the back of my head, wrapped under a purple turban a-la-Quirrell from the first Harry Potter (NERD POWER!). But now that the time is getting close, I'm a lot less excited than I hoped I would be.
It seems like cancer has very quickly stripped a lot of things I love from my life. I had to give up my volunteer work at school, teaching Sunday school at church, running and Jiu-jitsu, working in the library, often even existing outside of my bed. And now my appearance is going to change and it's one more thing that I have no control over.
One of the prayers in our church service this morning included a line about facing challenges with patience as God works His will in our lives. Heard that one, God! I'm trying! I'm trying to remember this is a temporary situation. That in a few months I won't have to go for chemo any more. That my hair will grow back. That I can rejoin my workout groups and rebuild my running. I'm not giving up any of these things forever.
But, man, I feel like Squirt the turtle in Finding Nemo when he jumps out of the East Australian Current. I can see all of life still speeding past me while I'm just sitting there, still, in the water. And it is SO FRUSTRATING.
And now I'm going to be bald like Squirt the turtle too?! Aaarggghhh! I don't want this! But I have it. So...
Whether I want it or not, my hair is falling out. And shaving is imminent. I think it needs to happen soon. Every meal I cooked this weekend had my hairs in it (as did the custard I dished up for my kids as a snack this afternoon). It's everywhere. Help me decide - when am I shaving this rapidly shedding mop of mine?
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