The results from Pittsburgh were good. We've got the green light for chemo to begin. Today we have an appointment for 'chemo education'. The chemo begins on Wednesday. They tell you to get a wig before you start losing your hair. I guess that I'd better do that today.
I was brushing my teeth and studying my reflection in the mirror, trying to imagine what I will look like with no hair. I say that losing my hair is going to be tough. Tim says, in his matter of fact way, "Well, maybe you should get everything all cut off. I think it would be easier to take if you had no hair, rather than having it fall out in clumps leaving long hair and bald spots." Surprisingly, that has occured to me. The thing is, I get my hair cut at the Wal-mart. (Don't laugh - it is convenient, and Alicia is very, very good.) I cannot bring myself to walk in there and ask her to shave my head in front of people, and then walk out of there with people staring. I have always been self conscious, especially about how I look. I imagine this is one of those things that you figure out as you go. I imagine that I'll hear other people's stories, other people's ways of handling this, and from their stories, I will figure out my own way to go.
I saw a woman who was having chemo in Pittsburgh. She was wearing a hat. She had no eyebrows, but had painted on some very nice ones. She did not look bad. Ethereal, even. I was gripped with this desire to just walk right up to her and begin to talk. Everyone talks about support groups, but I have not found one yet. Everyone deals with losing their hair, and people cope, and hair grows back and I know all this, but the simple fact of the matter is that I don't want Tim to see me bald. I know that he will. It's unavoidable. I'm dreading that moment.
Tim just laughs and pats his own bald head. "Your hair will grow back. Mine won't. That's the least of your problems."
It is the least of my problems.
So why does it bother me the most?