Hats

The hats came. She opened the box and looked at them along with the scarves. She played around with them - a ball cap, a beret, a scarf and a winter hat. The girls looked at them and sat on the bed with her looking at the hats, commenting, admiring and playing with them. Then she put them up on the doll case that faces our bed. There they sat, staring down at us and a reminder of the things to come. The haircut came next and it was cute and short, a perfect summertime hairdo. It fit her and made her look up-to-date and feminine, not 20 but not 50 and not stuck in the '70s.

It started slowly, and we saw small amounts on the pillows and in the drain. Then we noticed that her pyjama top had more every morning. It is now everywhere. Her hair is falling out rapidly and completely. The hats are a help in public but at home it is hard as they sit and stare and the hair just falls like rain.

It is amazing how much of our identity is tied to our appearance. Yes, I know that is obvious but it is the obvious things that are making such impact. Our youngest child said that now Mommy's hair looks just like Daddy's. That resulted in both laughter and tears.

The good thing is that it means the chemo drugs are working and you get to buy more hats.