You’re Bald

Round two of chemotherapy has come and gone. That was a tough one in a whole new way. I had a lot more issues with my tummy and nausea and headaches. I had less pain in my bones, but boy it was still painful. I’m learning what drugs to take and when and for how long. I’ll probably get this all figured out just in time to be done with chemo. The second round took longer to recover from than the first. I’m still really tired. I have my third round today. I can’t wait—said no one, ever. I already feel queasy about going because I know I might end up feeling nauseous all week.

Thank you for your prayers and meals and cards and gifts. So needed. Chemo has become more than just a physical battle. It’s become a mental battle, too. Now I know enough to know I’m going to be very uncomfortable. And for a while. So thank you, thank you.

Two weeks ago I shaved my head. That was an experience. I felt like Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia, getting his mane shaved off. It was more emotional than I thought it would be. The girls came with us to the salon and watched, which was comforting. Haven recognized me when it was all over, which was awesome. She’s such a mama’s girl I thought I might scare her with no hair.

It feels good to have no hair. I had a lot, and it was very heavy. It’s amazing how fast I can turn my head now. I have a little peach fuzz on my head that hasn’t fallen out yet (it’s actually growing, which is so strange) and whenever Tim kisses the top of my head we stick together like Velcro. So gross. So weird. Hopefully it will all fall out soon and stop getting stuck in his beard.

I’ve noticed something interesting about being bald. I usually go out in public without a hat or scarf. It’s just easier. I’ve tried scarves, but I just end up looking like a weird blend of a gangster meets a pirate. I know with more practice I’ll get it. Until then, it’s just me and my head. Usually when I go out in public I forget that I’m bald; to me I’m still me. I don’t usually look at myself very often, so I don’t remember that there’s no hair on my head. That’s until a certain demographic stares at me for longer than what I would call normal.

You might think I get the most stares from children, but not so much. Although they do have a lot to say about it as they’re walking by. I hope I’m not giving them nightmares. No, it’s not children that stare the longest. Out of all of the different groups of people, men, women, young, old, black or white, it’s bald men that stare the most. This I cannot believe. I mean, they’re bald too. All I hear in my head is Elaine Benes from Seinfeld yelling to George, “YOU’RE BALD!!!” So strange. So funny.

So this is me. I am bald.