I almost cried about it today when Jon asked me how I was doing. It hit me that it's just a matter of time now. My sad little ponytail is about half the thickness it normally would be. It's weird. I will be bald and have no choice in the matter. Oh dear. I don't like this one bit. It's the only outward sign of me being sick. That makes me uncomfortable. It's that more than the hair, maybe. Sick – I hate that word, and I don't feel sick. I need an alternate and am ridding it from my vocabulary. Under the weather? That's better.
Next week I will have to go to work for the first time wearing a wig. I told Jon I hope no one notices. I haven't really told anyone at work other than my a few people, and I don't plan on it at this point. I mean, who really wants to make a big deal about it? Not me. At some point, I might just tell the right person and let it makes it way. I'm undecided. I think two days and counting. I'll be like a hairless cat before the weekend is done.
Lola" on tonight. I think I like her, kinda better than my own hair.