This short little haircut has served me well. But it's thinned to the point that I have major bald spots on the top of my head, and can't leave the house without a hat. If you follow me on Instagram, you may remember seeing the ginormous clump of hair that fell out this morning. UGH. There is hair on our floors, hair on the couch, hair on our clothes, hair in our food. (Someone needs to write a Dr. Seuss mom-has-cancer book. "It's all over the floor! It's all over the chair! But guess where it's not? There's no hair up on there!")
I'm amazed, really, that I have any hair left on my head. This morning Raines pulls (yet another) hair out of his cereal and says, "Mom, I hate to tell you this…but it seems like your hair is trying to take over the world."
Yeah…OK. Back to Salon Ziza I go. This time, because I was so patchy, Shannon cut my hair in their privacy room. I think it's amazingly awesome that they even have a privacy room. I mean, seriously, wow.
Wanna see what Shannon did?
Look at how anxious I look. It is the weirdest feeling in the world, having your hair cut-off under these circumstances. Very out-of-body.
But with some clever combing-over, Shannon came up with something that (kinda) hid my bald spots. Mostly.
This is not my haircut-for-life, but I could wear this for a bit. Notice how I went in wearing both lipstick and a statement necklace. Overcompensating much? YES. (And thanks for the necklace, Bauble Bar!)
It crossed my mind to keep it like this….but in addition to the shedding, my hair actually hurts if you move it (or sleep on it). So I told her to keep [gulp] going.
Channeling Mia Farrow. God, that's some short hair.
Um. Ok. I kinda like it? All things considered? I was all ready to walk out like this when both Mike and Shannon shook their heads. The front is cute. The back? Uh, let's just say that it needs to be covered. *cough* Balding *cough*
And Shannon, bless her heart, fitted my wig, lined it with something comfy, and trimmed it up to fit my face better.
And then Mike snapped this ridiculous glamour shot and we laughed and laughed and laughed:
I mean really. My wig is a little too Texas-cheerleader, but, well, when else can you channel that Dallas Cowgirl vibe? I just wish wigs were more comfortable – after about an hour, it started to give me a headache…and these things are crazy-hot. Which, you know…awesome with chemo-induced hot flashes.
I suspect that most of the time I'll be in a headscarf. I'm starting to get the allure.
I just need to keep little hands OFF. How embarassing.
Tomorrow is Chemo #2. Crazy. I've prepped a few articles to publish, but you probably won't really hear from me for about a week. As always, your amazingly supportive comments have made this burden so much lighter. See you on the other side…