Sorry about your hair. It’s like a visual reminder of what’s happening.
I don’t care about my hair. I have been assured that it will grow
back, and I do not mind in the slightest going around bald.
And once my head is shaved, I can wear all my lovely winter
hats, of which I have a nice selection. After April 15, there will
be no more of the two nasty drugs that kill cancer cells and other
fast growing cells like hair follicles. My hair will start coming
back once I have rinsed all the nasty chemo drugs out of my
system with the huge amounts of water that I am supposed to
drink every day. Sixty-four ounces, and sometimes I exceed
even that.
Wednesday is my next (second) chemo session. I should be
bald by then, having contributed my hair to the salon.