So, last year I had my son shave my head for me while I was undergoing chemotherapy. I guess it has been about six months since he did it. And I knew that it would come back completely gray. I had been dyeing my hair since I was 14. I figured that it would be all wiry and gross but it’s not. It’s thick and kind of salt-and-peppery and (thank God!) still curly. Had it come in straight, I don’t think I would know what to do with it. At any rate, I’ve gone from skinhead to slightly over 2.5 inches in six months time. Yay!

Also, my eyebrows are starting to come back and, while my eyelashes haven’t, they stopped falling out at least.

Since I stopped just celebrating the whatever-th anniversary of my 29th birthday and completely embraced my true age when I hit 50, I am considering just leaving my hair gray. It’s kind of cool and then I won’t ruin the texture with shitty box dyes that I find on sale in the supermarket and I won’t have to worry about touch-ups anymore. Randa’s sort of getting used to it now. She’s only told me twice in the last couple of weeks that I have “old hair.” I figure it will just match my “old ass” and my “old griping” as I yell at kids to get off my lawn! (No, really. I actually had to do that a couple of months ago while I was lying on my bed, trying to sleep off the exhaustion following a radiation treatment when I heard a couple of kids right in front of my bedroom window discussing which Pokemon they were able to catch here. I literally yelled out the window, “GET OFF MY LAWN!” and they ran off.)

At any rate, after all this cancer crap, I’m living life to the fullest. From here on out, I will not lie about my age. I am 51 and loving it. I am gray and that’s okay. I have wrinkles and stretchmarks, but I earned every one of them. Some wrinkles I got from aging, but many more from laughing. Most of the stretchmarks are from having my amazing five children, but there are plenty of others I got from gaining weight. And dude, don’t give me any shit about the scale or the size of my pants. Those are just numbers. I’m working on my health and I don’t care what YOUR opinion is on MY obesity. I’m a work in progress just like everybody else and I LIKE ME. Once I’ve completed kicking cancer’s ass, I’ll have the energy to focus on work-outs and other activities. Right now, I’m doing what I can to survive and LIVE. The continued therapies I’m on are still wiping me out. And now that I’m on this estrogen suppression medication, all bets are off. I am just not me and I’m still adjusting to the weirdness that my body is becoming. I’m doing better and that’s great. But it will be a while before I can get back to my previous energy levels.

The major news that you can walk away from this blog with is this: I have actual HAIR again. It’s not remotely stylish, but it is hair. And I’m so freakin’ excited about it. I may have to buy a brush.

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