Haircut

This morning I took this goofy shot of my ponytail in the mirror. My hair needed a trim, and whenever that happens, I often wear ponytails. Besides I like wearing ponytails. When I go into chemo next week, if I want to preserve my hair as long as possible, I'm not supposed to wear ponytails or use hot irons, sprays or jells. Basically, I need to let my hair go. I knew the longer length would bug me.So last Friday, I decided to call the salon I've been going to and get a really short haircut to help with the transition, and maybe even stand a chance of keeping some. My usual stylist was on her honeymoon until June 11th, but I didn't want to wait that long. I had just met a friend of one of my friends who does hair out of a salon at her home in Monroe. I got her info and scheduled a haircut for today. I wore my hair in a ponytail one more time because I know it'll be over a year before I'll probably be able to do that again. Yes, I was making this into a bigger deal than it really should have been.

Becca came with me to get her hair trimmed, too. On the way over, I was trying to be all excited about cutting it really short. I'd never have the courage to try this before, I told her, and if I don't like it, it'll be gone in a few weeks anyway. I wanted something hip and messy and fun. The moment I walked into the salon, however,  I started crying. So, Becca got her hair cut first, while we chatted about family stuff. I started to feel better.


Kris, the stylist, told me it's okay to cry, to hate it, to do whatever I feel at the time. She was amazing! As the scissors cut more and more off, I started to like the look of my new short hair. The only time I cried was when I described one of the many kind things that have happened to me since starting my cancer journey. I told Kris that I really liked my hair, but she wasn't supposed to do such a good job since I'll only have it about three weeks. Kris answered that the cool thing about trying this haircut now is I'll have something to look forward to as my hair grows back in. Not only was she kind and encouraging and made this whole thing amazingly fun, when it was time to pay, she refused to accept any money for my haircut. I told her she was going to make me cry again (and of course, I did!). Becca loved her hair, too.

Here is the picture of Becca and me in the salon. I only wished I had taken a picture of Kris, too.

Here is a picture of the boys and me when I got home.