It
has been two glorious months since my last chemotherapy treatment, and I’m
ready to write about hair.
My
granddaughter Joelle likes to sniff my hair.
She says it smells good. She also
tells me it is soft. And that it is
growing. She’s right, at least about the
growing part. The bald spots on the back
have mostly grown in, and though my hair is somewhere between half an inch and
an inch long, it stands up straight on the top of my head. At first I had hopes that it would grow in
white, but it keeps getting a darker gray.
My
eyelashes are sparse and short, but my eyebrows have grown back in. Though I never lost them completely, they
were such a light gray that I couldn’t see them well. Now they are thick, but it’s so nice to see
‘em that I can’t yet bear to tweeze ‘em.
However, I am the tiniest bit dismayed by my hairy face. I don’t remember this much facial hair
before, a soft, white down that graces my chin and cheeks and upper lip.
Though
I certainly hope I will not become a bearded lady, I have looked forward to
going gray for quite a while. Kinda
strange, I know, but that’s just how it is.
While everyone else was adding color to their hair, I was hoping to lose
color. Admittedly, though, I never
anticipated having white facial hair.
The
other day I googled “facial hair after chemotherapy” and, sure enough, it is a
common occurrence, often showing up a couple months after chemo and going away
in another couple months. In the
meantime, I’m hoping Joelle does not start sniffing my chin.
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