Last Tuesday, my sister, my niece, and I did the next two things that needed doing: we went to a salon, picked out a wig, and got me a short haircut. Wigs have names, evidently. We liked Erika but we felt she might be too coiffed for me. The one I picked out is called Ryan. I ordered her in ginger-brown. From the swatch, ginger brown appears to be a dead match for my hair color. I tried on a few wigs in the salon. The technology has actually come quite far. There are the kind that are hand-tied, which are more subtle, and then there are others that are only partly hand-tied. I went with the one that makes me look like I have less big hair. I grew up on Long Island in the late eighties and try as I did, I never succeeded in having big hair. I believe it's too late for me now. The salon didn't keep all the wigs and colors in stock, so I had to order this thing, sight unseen. I'm not 100% sure I will have the guts to wear it... I might feel like a muppet. But whether I wear it or not may not be up to me, it might be up to my kids. This is something of a relief. If they have a strong preference one way or the other about how I represent, that's the choice I will make. Sometimes it's nice not to have to make all the decisions myself.
A friend and I were laughing recently when she confessed that she wanted to say she'd shave her head for me in solidarity but she just can't pull the trigger on the offer. I get it. I love her dearly, but with all due respect to our twenty year friendship, I wouldn't shave my head for her either. The little girl in the park got me thinking, though. For one, I think I would shave my head for a 7 year old (whom I don't know) if I thought it would ease her suffering. There is something so wrong about a child with cancer. It makes me feel desperate. For another, the sight of this child has made me feel a bit shamed, but in a good way. Here is this graceful one, living her life, seemingly unencumbered by the grisly side effects of this treatment that has great potential to help her live a long life. Priority-wise, there is something right about all of this. When I close my eyes these days, I see this little girl and her tender, glowing head and I'm holding her close in my heart. Her bald head doesn't look ugly to me; it looks hopeful.
The reason that Red Sunshine makes your hair fall out is that it targets any and all fast-growing cells. This means skin cells, hair cells, the cells that line your mouth and then hopefully, any cancerous cells in your body. I've noticed this morning that the texture of my hair has changed and in a very beginning way, it has begun to fall out. Optimistically, I'd say I have about a week at most. Some time next week, Ryan should be arriving in the mail. The pieces are falling into place.
As an early childhood educator, it is a core belief of mine that children can often be our best teachers. I found an unexpected teacher in an unexpected place. I think that The Universe is reliable in providing this for us. The trick, I think, is to notice.
In this Universe, you, my dear friend have a distinct advantage. That is, you notice. You notice not just the child whose bald head means so much to you as you walk this path, but you notice every child who crosses your path and many others who worked hard to stay off everyone's path. You notice friends and you notice strangers whether they are engaged in mundane, every day tasks, celebrating accomplishments, or struggling to work their way through a challenge. You notice in a way that few of us can and most of want to emulate. I'm relieved to see that noticing is one way that The Universe is providing for you because noticing is one of the things you do far better than most.
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