This morning, my reflection stared back at me as if I had alopecia. Bald spots were more apparent as I ran my hands through my hair. When I tell people that my hair is falling out, I don’t think they grasp the concept, that it is really falling out until they grab my hair, pull at it, and it comes out. Take my mom and sister for instance.
I called my friend Imho. “Imho, I really need to borrow your clippers now.
“Okay call me after your shower.”
If I thought it was bad, it was worse in the shower. I couldn’t wash my hair without feeling like my hands had began to grow “fur.” Hair was everywhere. I rinsed off, clogging the bathtub with hair, and leaving a trail of fuzz all throughout the bathroom. I stared at my reflection. Real bad.
“Imho I really need to shave my head!”
“That bad huh?” Imho couldn’t come till 6, so I’d have to make do until then. Since I had a lunch appointment with Ini, I decided for the wigged look. After a fabulous lunch with Ini I was back home.
Again I stared at my reflection. I ran my hands through my hair, more hair fell outt. I began to pull out my hair. Then I grabbed scissors and started cutting my hair. My niece stared a little horrified, with her mouth opened in an “O” as my hair detached itself from my head. Hair was everywhere. I could have kept pulling and pulling until there was nothing left. The bathroom was covered with hair.
Imho picked my sister and I up at 5:30. With a feeling of trepidation on my part, Imho shaved my head…first into a “Maddox” Mohawk and then into a “Natalie Portman” shave. For fear of cutting me, we held off the Mr. Clean Look.
Shaving my head was liberating. Having my hair fall out, and gaining the appearance of a chick freshly born was a bit frightening. The air rushes around my head, it’s a lot cooler now, and my head is less heavy and doesn’t hurt from carrying all the “dead” hair anymore. My head is really small! I think I like it.