Hair Today...

     “It’s all going to go eventually.”

     “But I need to hold to what I can as long as I can.”

     “Here?”

     “Yes.”

     Tracy snipped through the ponytail so effortlessly.  I felt a weight lifted from me as the last tie to normalcy was cut.  There would be no going back, and yet these were the tides of time I had no hope of fighting. 

     Within seconds I gazed up to see Tracy holding my ponytail up for me to see in the mirror.  It was a perfect metaphor for how disconnected I felt from my own life: looking through the mirror at hair that should be attached to my body. 

     “You have cancer.”

     Who could prepare you for that? 

     Tracy was right; it would all go eventually.  My hair has always been my best feature.  Whoever says it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all has never lost anything they truly love.  If you do not know what you are missing, how could you miss it at all?  If you know what it is like to love something, it hurts all the more when you have to watch it slipping away.

     It wasn’t just that I was going bald; bald can be beautiful.  Each strand that fell from my head, made me realize how much sicker I was getting.  If that follicle had given up its fight, what was to stop the rest of my body from doing the same?

     Each morning as I arose from my pillow, less and less of my hair would join me for the rest of my day.  The mere threat of washing my head in the shower made another 50 strands commit suicide down the drain.  Brushing quickly was reduced to combing, and even then I was able to do most of it without touching my head at all. 

     I don’t think this loss would be so hard, if I had someone to help cushion the blow.  This is a battle that should not be fought alone; the support of a family and friends help carry the burdens of cancer.