As my oncologist predicted, my hair has started to fall out. I’m
going to the beauty salon in Salem that accepts hair donations
from people undergoing chemo. A lot of those places do not take
“old” hair, but this one does. We will probably go tomorrow.
And I still adamantly refuse to wear a wig. Hats? That’s another
story. I have lots and lots of hats.
I figure that my hair will grow back by the time I’m 72 or so.
Four years is enough to grow it nearly as long as it is now.
Meantime, our mailbox arrived yesterday, and Bryan is going to
install it this weekend as well. I really hope that whatever he does
to theft-proof the thing works.