Metamorphosis: It's A Pretty Head

The votes are in, and my head has been deemed a pretty one. It's pale and regular, no big dents or malformations (except for the light tracing of some old forgotten injury), and it's smaller than I thought it would be. Both of my kids and one's boyfriend like it. When my son and I buzzed the hair off he stood back, took a hard look, and said it looks good, that I look like one of those fashion models. Heck, no one said that when I had hair!

Today my mom gets to see me without hair. I think this may be the most difficult part of the last few weeks for her. She wants me to wear a fringe of fake bangs under my scarves, and I did buy some on her behalf, but that's not really me. I can't bring myself to try those bangs yet; it goes counter to the acceptance process I'm experiencing. But I will put on some makeup and earrings, to make this easier for her. I hope it's enough.

One of the ways I'm getting through this truly surreal experience of cancer and treatment is by embracing each change and finding joy or humor or peace with it, rather than holding on to how things were and thereby holding on to the bitterness of loss. For some unknowable reason my body began a metamorphosis when the cancer took hold. The cancer tried to change my cells to become more cancer, and now, through the intervention of doctors, surgeons, nuclear medicine, pharmaceuticals, energy healers, the power of my own mind, the love of friends and strangers, I am amidst a different metamorphosis. Each of the changes I notice are just markers left behind by the changes going on internally. When I can't taste food I remember that I am changed by strong medicine. When I start at the sight of my bald self in the mirror I smile and remember that this is one step I took control of for myself.

When I receive a card from someone I didn't know cared, I remember that I am held by others, that they pray and hope and send me strength. This is transforming me most of all. Before the cancer I had begun to believe that I had little to offer the world, that I was pointlessly consuming resources on this planet, giving nothing back in return. To suddenly now be embraced by so many loving people forces me to consider the idea that my life may have more meaning than I realized. Inside this transparent, mobile cocoon, I am evolving to perhaps even discover my own worth. Self-worth has no value to me in a narcissistic vacuum, unless it points me to a way that I can use my life to make some small part of this world a better place, or touch someone else in significant ways.

I've been waiting for this adventure for my entire life, and now my life depends upon it.