Change of Seasons

Quick post-treatment update:  I am now 2 days removed from my 2nd treatment.  Other than a bit of nausea and lack of sleep, it’s been a cakewalk.  If it’s going to be like this for the next 10, I’m going to kill it.  It won’t be, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

I decided to get a haircut this morning.  I don’t actually know when it’s all going to go (all my reading on the Red Woman’s Elixir says soon) , but I do know my hair is out of control at the moment.  Plus, I’ve got this beard now in full force and it doesn’t blend with my side burns and goatee.

So here I am waiting for them to call my name.  For some weird reason, I decide to gently tug on the hair on the side of my head.  Bad idea.  10 hairs come out.  F – U – C – K.  I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’m not ready.  Crap, I can’t get emotional in a room full of dudes about to get their haircuts, but I can’t help it.  Don’t think anyone noticed.  I do it again, another 10-ish hairs.  So I guess it’s starting.  Awesome.  I text Beeral that it’s time to do some hat shopping.  A few hours and a trip to the Domain later, I’ve got 2 more to add to my growing collection.

It’s just hair.  I shouldn’t care that it’s about to disappear.  But I can’t help but care, despite my mind and my being’s best efforts. Internally, it signifies a physical change and makes what is happening to me more real.  Externally, it signals my plight with the outside world.  The stigma that comes with it, the looks of pity, the questions.  That’s the part I’m not ready for.  Time to get tougher.

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