Hair-ful

It's growing back.

I've told you Joshua's observations. First I felt "poky," then "like a caterpillar," then "like a cat." I got home from my family reunion weekend last Monday and he gave me a good pet. I asked him, "What do I feel like now, Josh?"

He said, "Like Mommy."

I know that's really sweet. Believe me, for the first twenty minutes, my heart gushed. But then. Well. Come on, Josh. When has your Mommy's hair ever felt like this? Get real.

(Oh, take it easy! Of course I didn't say this to him!)

It is about half an inch long now. Seems to be as thick as before. I have a solid patch of white hairs right above my forehead, slightly to the left. They were there years ago, but were easy to hide.

When Dr. Markus saw me and remarked on the new growth, I pointed to these white hairs and said, "Do I have you to blame for these?"

Was that mean? Making him think it was a chemo thing? Meh. He didn't seem to care.

He did say, "I think it's very distinctive!"

Oh?

"Yes! Are you a reader of science fiction fantasy?"

What? Do I look like a 15 year old boy? Wait. Don't answer that. . .

"The very powerful are often marked by a streak of white hair. You would be, well, like a sorceress."

Moment of silence. I'm fairly certain I'd never been compared to a sorceress before. What does one say to this? What did I say?

I shrugged and whispered, "Behold!"

He then said, "I've revealed what a nerd I am." I wanted to tell him, "I think being a nerd is very distinctive!"

And one of these days, I will tell him, "I'm glad you are a nerd. I'm a nerd. I'm working hard to turn my children into nerds. This world is a better place because of nerds!"

But his comments do make me think of Rogue from the X-Men. Check out her streak of white hair:

I'd often thought that if I had that much of a concentration, I'd go for it. But my clump makes a streak about a quarter of that size on just one side. Before I lost my hair, I colored just this streak.

Then, just this weekend as I watched the Olympics, I saw a Pantene commercial on which the model--a hair model!--was a dark brunette with a long streak of white hair.

And it wasn't even for the old-lady version of their formula. So maybe, friends. Just maybe. . .

Half an inch seems to be the length that people interpret to be a chosen hairstyle, and not a side effect. I was wearing a hat on the airplane and a woman remarked, "Fantastic hat! Where did you get it?"

I told her and then added, "I saw it, liked it, was bald at the time, so I bought it."

She looked surprised and said, "I was bald once, too!" and we high-fived. (Note to self: Is there a secret Survivor's handshake I should know about for these moments? Google it.)

My point is that she didn't have the "Oh, you've got cancer!" look that I've learned to read pretty quickly.

A 16-17ish old girl in the Commissary stopped me to tell me how "cool" my hairstyle was and how "awesome" it was that I "went for it."

So, I inspired one of our nation's youth this week. What have you done, slackers?

I also have all of my eyebrows back. That was an awkward few weeks, waiting for them to come in. When you have just stubble up there, they look like two smudges, like hobo make-up mis-applied.

And stubbly eyelashes! They looked so icky for a while. But they are back now, too.

All further proof that we are finished with the hard treatment and that my body is getting on with the show.

Speaking of which, a photo below, taken at our reunion. I'd started entering the game room by sliding in front of the entrance a la Tom Cruise in Risky Business (a movie I've never seen, but who hasn't seen that scene?)

Mom, ever the faithful photo-historian, insisted that I do it once for the camera.

Here I am. Take those old records off the shelf. . .