Bad Hair Day

I often have what what many would call Bad Hair Days. In the interest of not being judgmental, I claim my hair isn't actually bad on these days, just misguided. Your hair might be similarly misbehaved if it went to bed wet.

Anyway, my hair has been having an increasingly hard time lately. Chemotherapy attacks rapidly dividing cells. The target is cancerous cells, but the collateral damage is bone marrow cells, cells lining the digestive tract (frequently leading to diarrhea), cells growing your nails (making them brittle and rough), and cells growing your hair (causing your hair to fall out).

I had been seeing signs the last few days that I was about to earn my Hair Loss badge: seeing more hairs on my pillow upon waking; whiskers coming off in my hand; hair balls the size of a small rodent on the shower drain...

When my pillow looked like this, I knew it was time.

You can't quit, Harry McHair. You're fired!

I now have even less hair than my dad! (Thanks for the trim, Dad!)

As you can see, I still have facial hair. However, my eyebrow has already thinned to the point that it looks like I have two eyebrows. Anyway, I think this look works for me.

I'm also losing hair on my arms, chest, legs, and ... elsewhere. (Sorry, no pictures.) Soon enough, it's all going to be gone. Naked as a mole rat. 

I think it's the loss of eyebrows that really gives cancer patients the cancer patient look. Fortunately, my family's got me covered.

Thanks, Jan!