The hardest part 

I post pictures almost everyday with the hashtag #chemochic. Why? Because I like to be chic and cancer/chemo won’t take it from me. 

I’ve bought cute hats and scarves and wigs, I post pictures of them too. I like selfies (yes that makes me a narcissist! So what? I’m a nice one!) and cancer/chemo won’t take that from me either.  Everybody tells me my short hair looks good as do my hats and scarves. I think it’s true, I don’t think I look bad. I don’t think I even look worse than I did a few months ago, just different. 

But every morning, when I stand in front of the mirror naked, after my shower and drying my buzz cut, the same thought goes through my head:

“This is the hardest part”.

Seeing that I had to lose my curls that I worked so hard to learn to style and love. Seeing my scarred and puckered breast. Seeing the thinning eyebrows I need to fill in with pencil (I’ve never had to do that before, unless I had some kind of over tweezing mishap). I know it’s only getting worse, it’s hard to imagine ever looking the way I like to again. 

Looking in the mirror is the hardest part.

Today, I really started to sense that my hair was falling out. I scratched my head and then took off my hat, and noticed it was full of hair. I pinched a tiny little finger full and gave it a tiny little tug, and it was full of hair. I showed the closest friend I have at the office I’m currently at, I cried and we hugged. 

Then I went for my break. Luckily I’m in a location in a mall, so I went to Spencer’s and bought a new hat.

It might be hard, but I can do it, and I can be a superhero if I want to! 


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