The first couple of days after chemo- mobilization aren’t so bad.
I feel good that such a big step is behind me.
The next step, baldness.
I know it will come out. It’s a when, not an if.
I have to decide to let it fall out in clumps or go ahead and shave.
I decide to have Michael call around and see if we can find a salon nearby.
He calls a couple, they want $60 to $120 standard fee. Seriously?
So his third call is to a salon called Trio, the girl says that a stylist named Kim will do it for free, her pleasure.
A side note is that the Chicago Air and Water Show is going on this weekend and all day Thursday and Friday, The Blue Angels are practicing.
Soaring over head, flying through downtown and the roar of the engines is intense.
It’s so loud you feel it.
That’s how my thoughts feel about shaving my head.
They are loud, intense and soaring through my psyche.
My head is full of aerial dives and spins that seem out of control.
This shit just got real.
Chemo and the hospital is one thing, but this?
This seems somehow altogether different.
Like watching the Blue Angels versus a crop duster different.
The appointment is set for 2:15 Friday.
We get there early and she can take us.
She is a big, happy blonde that has a personality I adore and she immediately makes us laugh and a cappuccino.
You have to appreciate someone who understands the importance of proper caffenation and humor.
The cape goes on and so do the clippers.
She gets right to it. It takes a lot longer than I would have thought but then again how should I know. Michael watches and never sits down.
He gripped the handles of the wheelchair and never looked away.
I closed my eyes a lot.