Hair!

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,

When beauty liv'd and died as flowers do now,

Before the bastard signs of fair were borne,

Or dust inhabit on a living brow;

Before the golden tresses of the dead,

The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,

To live a second life on a second head;

Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay...

-William Shakespeare (Sonnet 68)

William Shakespeare was critical of the superficiality of the times he lived in and false beauty (the bastard signs of fair). He writes of hair being taken from dead people to adorn the heads of the living (presumably baldies). Which led me to consider: are the Instagram models of today with their filters, Botox, hair extensions and over filled lips just todays manifestation of our need to appear glamorous and youthful?

I never had much cause to really think about this. That is, until all my hair fell out and my eyes swelled almost shut.

It turns out I took things like my head full of hair for granted.

And it also turns out that my hair falling out wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it is it growing back.

I have an unruly mop of hair on my head. Fortunately the texture is returning to my old straighter hair. It is however driving me crazy.

Nothing can prepare me for what greets me in the mirror when I wake up now. Believe me when I tell you I often resemble Kramer from Seinfeld except my hair is more unruly. I don't know what I do when I sleep, but the result is truly alarming. I have been known to scream upon setting eyes on myself.

I'm trying to grow out the top layer so I can have my hair cut into the pixie I had before treatment started. Some days I just want to shave it all off again. I feel like my head is weighed down by bobby pins that are trying to restrain a force greater than gravity. I try to be grateful to have a short mane of thick, real locks - but my mane resembles a lion (dragged through a hedge backwards) rather than a horse. My wig, a chic shoulder length bob, was so pretty in comparison.

You'd think after being told I had cancer not much would shock me. It turns out a hair related issue did indeed shock me. Want to know what it is? A breast reconstructed from your tummy has tummy hair on it! My tummy's dead fleece is having a second life on my boob. I never thought my tummy was particularly hairy but it is definitely hairer than a boob.

Anyway I will try and be grateful for my hair - even the ones in my nose because without them I know my nose is much more likely to bleed when I blow it. And did you know you have lots of little hair like structures in your intestine that fall out when you have chemo making it harder to absorb nutrients? So not only are you poisoned but you have the equivalent of microdermabrasion to your gut (and it flipping hurts).

I'm not sure what outside tummy hair does - hopefully my left boob will be nice and warm this winter and the hair happy living a second life. Not quite what Shakespeare had in mind, but hairy boobs would probably be less troubling to him than Instagram models and the bastard signs of fair we've given birth to over the past 500 years.