A Peach Fuzz Mohawk

Once the AC portion of chemo was over, my scalp began to grow a nice crop of peach fuzz. It's so strange; the hairs are so fine that they're colorless, they're about 1/4 to 1/2 long, and they grow in a wide stripe down the middle, from brow to nape. I imagine it as an invisible Mohawk hairstyle. Unless I'm backlit I still look bald.

As time passes, there is less news to share, other than I'm here and still getting through what I must. I'm feeling better on Taxol, and I have eight more weekly treatments to go. I'm beginning to worry a bit about the upcoming radiotherapy, but I keep reminding myself to cross that bridge when I come to it. That's how I've kept from being overwhelmed since my diagnosis, and it's turned out to be a particularly good strategy for coping with a disease in a field where research offers new information weekly. There have been already tweaks to my treatment due to such information in this short time.

I've been thinking a lot about how things will be different regarding my relationship to men. I try to write about it, but I write and edit for an hour and then erase it all. There will be changes in how I see myself and how I will be seen. I am being forced to give up some illusions, but hopefully also some notions that haven't brought me any happiness in the past. It wasn't easy being single at midlife before I got cancer, and it's going to get harder if I want to remain open to the possibility of a relationship in the future. Solitude is my refuge and my curse.