Well, it was time.
My second chemo treatment is on Monday in Atlanta. That also is Day 14 of Chemotherapy invading my body, which means my hair will be hanging on by a thread. I had choices. I could leave my hair alone and watch it fall out in long clumps or take action now.
Everyone has counseled that pulling your long hair out in clumps is an emotional non-starter. So, I could either have my dear Sarah (best stylist on 30A), shave my head with a Number 2 clipper, or have her cut it very short for a once in lifetime pixie cut. To be honest, I wasn't keen on either one.
But logic prevailed. It also coincided with Mason getting a hair cut (his curly squirrely mop needed it), which helped propel me. It also helped that Jamie, Mason, and my dear friend Chris came with me for moral support. I didn't cry, but I assure you, if they weren't there I would have probably filled buckets.
So, I settled on a pixie cut yesterday. That may not sound like a big deal, but my hair was cut shorter than it ever has been in my entire life. Now, I must calm the drama. Oh, the drama! As everyone so eloquently pointed out, "It really doesn't matter, as this haircut is only going to last a week". Have you noticed, it's so hard to argue with logic?
So, I nervously proceeded. As a backup plan, if my hair starts falling out before I leave for Atlanta, Sarah will shave my head before we go. If not, I will take a cute beanie hat to wear in Atlanta, so if the hair starts shedding there, I can hide my bald patches until I get back to 30A for Sarah to do her magic. I know, I know....so much thought and logistics for hair. The vanity is oozing. I'm sure the men reading this post are shaking their heads.
However, I must point out that "MOST" men do love long hair. Yes, yes, I'm generalizing, but it has been my personal experience that there is truth in this generalization. This will not please Jamie that I am outing him, but he is first in line in that category. He loves loves my long hair.
Having said that, he was the first one to encourage me to cut my hair. He even graciously complimented me on the pixie cut and wasn't even under duress. I didn't bait him with the unwinnable question that every man hates, "Honey, does it look good?" He offered praise before I could get it out. I'm sure I would have asked. I think I mentioned it before - Jamie is a smart, smart, loving man.
Mason was also a gem. He was so very sweet. He always melts my heart.
So, I will leave you with a few photos. **Bonus points to anyone that appreciates and identifies the significance of my tee-shirt.**
Until next time when I am bald and bold...