Saturday, May 21, 2016
It turned out that in the end, time did not help me much. I just couldn't get used to what felt like fakeness to me about the wig. I really deeply wish I could overcome those feelings, but after a lot of struggle, I had to admit that I just could not. Those who know and work with me would not be fooled either way. A wig is after all not my own hair, and even though I got a very good wig that I very much like the style of, there is no way anyone who knew me would be fooled by it. So wearing a head covering of a cloth nature wasn't so bold in that respect. What I did not realize was that it would definitely announce to those that I do not know that I was getting chemotherapy. I was recently on a return trip to a number of restaurants in Chicago, and on several occasions, someone in the restaurant noted they had served us on a previous trip. We are not a family that stands out or is in any way memorable. We enjoy food and each others company, don't get me wrong. We don't go back to a place that we don't think is great, but rarely do people recognize us on a second go round. Nope, I am pretty sure that not wearing a wig is what was the game changer. At first it surprised me, but on second thought I realized that was the downside of my approach. I was sharing what I was going through with everyone, strangers included. So be it, because while I am hoping to have enough hair by the end of the summer to look punk, I might not.