Hair Again

Now that I'm wearing my hair "au natural", and looking like an aging skinhead, I'm getting some interesting comments from people I passingly know. Today, a barber that has his business in a building adjacent to the condo where we live, asked me if I got a hair cut.

You see, my look is rather extreme compared to how I looked with my wig on. Everyone (living in a large condo complex in Florida you meet a lot of people) seemed to accept that one day I was blond and the next I could be a brunette or a redhead. Lots of people gave me their opinions about which color they thought I looked best in and accepted that I was wearing a wig. But with the look I'm currently sporting, they can't seem to figure out what is going on.

It's not as if they are less friendly, they just seem confused. I'm not as fun anymore - my wild hair days are over, and now I am down to the business of growing out my hair. My cancer experience is real because they are confronted with my hair which is a smidgen short (pardon the pun) of being fashionable. And after they say how great it looks, the conversation peters out. No more stories about Aunt Bertha and her wig or questions about how hot is it to wear a wig in summer in Florida.

The barber didn't know about what had been going on with me, so when I said, "Oh, no, this is my hair growing out from the chemotherapy," it was a real show stopper. I said it cutely, but I think just using the word chemotherapy in a sentence puts a pall on things.

So, I'm vowing to come up with an honest, but less abrupt way of telling why my hair is so short. I recall Katie Couric saying how astounded she was by the volumes of mail she received about her hair. I guess hair is an issue with us all, whether we have it, are loosing it, lost it or are watching it grow in.