Just when you think you have control...

Just when you think you have developed some control over the events of your life, something happens to remind you how wrong you are.

My hair was growing. All summer if grew, fractions of inches per week. It was coming in, all over my head and thick. Before I went to Phoenix, I got a haircut. Mostly to trim things up, keep things even, etc. A couple of weeks ago, on a Wednesday I noticed a couple of flipped up ends. No big deal...hair is like that. When I got out of the shower the next morning, I had curls. Not a few. They were all over my head.

This is cancer's way of reminding me who is in charge.

If you haven't seen me with curles, here's a visual for you.

Brillo pad.

Poodle.

My mom's perm in the 80s.

As an adult, I have never had curly hair. My mom alledges I had curly hair as an infant but that remains to be proven. But today...I have curly hair. Gray and curly. Like a brillo pad. Or a poodle.

Mary looks at me and reassures me that the curls are going away...that the back is not as curly as it was...that I look beautiful.

The nurses I work with tell me my hair is great...or fantastic...or like some model from J.Jill. I just flipped through their catalog and saw no one who looked like me. Gray, curly hair is something our grandmothers have. Models and our friends do not.

With the approach of Halloween I guess I can approach this in two ways. It can be an opportunity to be something that I am not (a character, a costume) or something that I am. I guess it depends on whether you are a glass half full or half empty kind-of-person.

Each morning I check. Is it still curly? Then I remember that I am thankful to have hair. To be on this side of my cancer. To be able to worry about hair.

Then I rejoice.