peanut head

I am bald.

The doctors were right, of course, they said I would lose my hair. Over the last few days, it has been coming out in tufts in my hands. So, rather than pathetically hang on to the very last strand of my golden fleece, I let go. It was fun, kinda.

I asked my sister and my niece to do the honors. I remembered being told that they shave my brother-in-law's head. Turns out they did it once. So, since I wanted to keep it in the family, I let them shave me anyway. On one condition, no blood.

We sat on our back deck on a beautiful June evening and, with a brand new pair of clippers, had an early Halloween, carving my pumpkin into a frightful array of follicle nightmares. They were timid at first, but once they got going, they could have put any military barber to shame. Didn't cut me once. Although, the maniacal laughter got a little annoying.

How does it look? My wife thinks it looks good and that I shouldn't wear a hat. Without my glasses, she thinks I look like a badass. She's being nice. I'm not convinced. With my glasses, I think I look like some deranged soldier from Full Metal Jacket. My cranium is smaller than I thought, which makes me think my brain is smaller as well. Perhaps when my sister called me peanut head, she wasn't referring to its shape, but its size. 

I have some folliclely-challenged friends who have absolutely no sympathy for me, at least as far as my hair. Enjoy this moment, my friends. I can't say I understand how they feel, because mine will grow back. But, at least for the summer, I have a chance to walk in their SPF 50 shoes.

Even though it has been less than a day, I am ready for it to come back. It doesn't feel right. But, I know that like the long hours of chemo and waiting for the tired, sick feeling to go away after each set of treatment, it will require patience. What doesn't.