So today I got ready. I looked in the mirror and was thrilled to see I had miraculously achieved the perfect trifecta of girl grooming:
Good hair day--check.
Cooperative makeup (yes, there are days where that just doesn't happen)--check.
Fun outfit (clothes do make the girl ;))--check.
And then my eyes darted to my chest as they have nearly daily since somewhere in those 'tween years where we seem to wait for the overnight growth of female bosoms. It's just sort of this second-nature thing; like checking your blind spot before you merge.
And then it hit me: Oh yeah. I have cancer.
Tumors don't go with anything. They just clash horribly.
According to my surgeon, 3/4 of all breast cancer incidents have absolutely no pre-disposing conditions. Just another annoying little cancer tidbit. ;)
I'm not going to lie to you: vanity is a major concern in all this cancer crap. I think it goes without saying, that my primary goal is to get healthy, but I still want to feel beautiful and the thought of possibly losing my hair, has me a little unnerved.
Mostly I'm fine. Hair grows back and I think I could totally rock the whole bald thing! Plus... wigs could be fun!
I don't define my sex appeal or attractiveness by the length or abundance of my hair; I'm a very confident person. And there's a very strong chance that I won't need chemo at all...
And yet, if I'm being completely honest, I would miss my hair. Truly. :(
As I muse about this lately, I'm reminded of a sweet "compliment," my daughter paid me when she was probably about five years old. "Mom," she said. "Your hair's so pretty. It looks just like straw."
Yeah. I think I'd miss my straw. ;)