I find myself feeling pretty resentful and irritated that this is happening. I wanted to heal, go through menopause (again), take the drugs, grow the hair back, and get on with my damn life. But cancer doesn't care what I want.
In other, more entertaining news, my hair continues to grow and continues to curl and pouf and frizz and stick in my ears and hang in my eyes and itch my forehead and generally drive me CRAZY! But everyone around me is enjoying the saga immensely! At first it was short enough that the "curl" was just a sweet little wave (Pic #1). That didn't last very long. Next, I went through a lengthy period of denial of the curls, and spent many morning hours combing it down and sweet-talking it into laying flat (#2). Then I tried a side-part (disaster, see #3). Then I let my boss do my hair -- she chose full and pouffy; I put a hat on (#4 & 5). Finally, I decided to just accept that it was curly and try to go with it -- so I walked into Aveda and started crying, and they handed me some tubes and samples to try. The next morning after showering I toweled dry, applied the goo, and crossed my fingers. And, lo and behold, I had a hair-do (#6)!
And finally, last pic -- me, tranquil, accepting, at peace with my fuzzy hair and fat arm.