Second
Round of Chemo and my hair promptly began to fall out. This morning I woke
to many strands of hair on my pillow. I attempted to count each one, children
from my head, but that became a decorative process more than constructive.
I refused to take a shower this morning in fear of what I would find caught
in the mouth of the shower. Tonight Darren shaved my head, held my scalp fixed
tender with fingertips as he moved the clippers back to front. And I held
myself in the act, I felt so small, so inside myself. I felt lost.
