New Hair

 My head doesn’t get cold at night anymore. But I still wear a hat because I am used to it now.  My hair is growing back. I’m not sure how much of the new growth really wants to be there, and how much is just a result of the painful steroid treatment I am stopping.  And the hair that is growing back is still patchy, and there are still glowing bald spots. But celebrate the small stuff they say.  I am happy, almost nervous about the whole thing. I don’t want to get my hopes up because if all of this hair decided to fall out, then I am back at square one. If I have no expectation, then I don’t get upset, and life moves on.  If I put all this faith and happiness into the new hair, and it leaves, I’ll just be so upset all over again. And that was hard enough the first time.  But the thing is, I will probably be dealing with this whole issue for more than just a few more months. And I keep looking for signs that signal it to be over.  And by over I mean a few different things.  I look for consistency, like having no hair or evenly dispersed hair. I am not really content when it’s in between.  The thickest growing patch of hair is on the very top of my head. This is where I got all of my first set of steroid shots because they don’t hurt that much on the top.  The other times I have received the shots around my ears and the back of my head, those places hurt the most because of the nerves in those areas.  I tend to rub my head a lot when I don’t have a wig on, and I’m not sure why.  Perhaps its because my head is covered for so many hours in the day, and it feels nice.  I also feel a guilty feeling in my stomach when people see my hair now.  Since it’s coming back, everyone looks at it with huge smiles and they say I must be so happy.  It hurts me because maybe I should be really happy. But the reality is that I am not.  I am not sad, just resigned.  I just don’t want to feel any more emotions about the issue.  I want facts, logic, and progress.  But all of the issues that stem from my hair are emotions that are flaky, not logical, and unpredictable.  All opposites.  So for months now I have tried to fight these qualities and find answers, and try my hardest to create progress in order to grow back all of my hair.  Now, I give up.  Not in a quitting way, I give up so that I can occupy a different view on the issue.  First of all, it isn’t an issue.   If all of this was meant to happen to me, I say bring it on.  I won’t let it define me, and I won’t make myself suffer in the hopes that maybe I won’t be so different someday.  This means, I won’t get steroid shots anymore.  I love myself too much to let someone penetrate my scalp forty or fifty times in less than ten minutes, and leave me crying, and shaking.  It isn’t his fault.  The other options are putting me in a room with severely itchy cream on my head that creates blisters.  The things I have learned about myself in the past six months are wild.  And here they are:

1.     I am so strong.  Why?  I am not afraid to cry in front of many people.  I’m not afraid to tell my story.  I’m not afraid to show people that I am human, and fragile.  I'm not afraid to surround myself with only positive, and loving people. 

2.     I love my family.  I always did, but I now know how comforting and loving they all are.

3.     I have a better understanding of what treatment is.  Treatment doesn’t have to involve someone with a stethoscope.

4.     I really am hardwired as an achiever.  This “setback” didn’t affect my academics or singing life. 

5.     It is important to love who you are as well as your body.  Still working on this one. I think we all are..

6.     There sometimes are no answers. And having no answer, or doing nothing is in fact a solution.