My Hair

I am here at my desk working on my lesson for Tuesday Institute.  Running my hand through my very short hair (1 ½ inches in most places) I can feel a small chunk of food, probably left behind by one of the kids.  It made me smile.  I continue to get lots of head rubs from the family and daily comments about my hair like “Why’s your hair so soft?”  “Don’t wear your wig--your hair looks cute.”  I’ve told the family it will probably be another few months—another inch or more of hair.  I know I would be a shock to most people.  My family is used to seeing me, even months with no hair.  I have never felt sad about my hair which I lost two weeks after I began chemo.  Much of that has to do with a very complimentary family, especially Paul.

Phil can’t resist licking his fingers and trying to smooth down my hair each time he sees me.  He is constantly telling me with much enthusiasm that I need a haircut (my hair is longer than his) and that he will give it to me—for free.  What a deal!