Short hair

Okay, so I'm not 100% yet.  Tonight I walked a little too much and am feeling a little ache in my leg, but nothing major.  I'll be more careful, I swear.  ;)

What's really starting to get to me is this impending chemo.  While we're talking about it, who the heck named it chemoTHERAPY?  I don't think it will be a very therapeutic process, do you?  Talk about false advertising...  Anyway, every one who has seen me walking around without crutches today and yesterday have been so happy for me. They immediately exclaim "Look at you!  You must be getting better!" and I am.  To them it's a relief because my leg is healing, I don't have a pained expression on my face anymore, and it seems like the hard part is over.  But to me, this is just the beginning.  I haven't even started the hard part.  And to know that their joy is so short lived sucks.  I am dreading the confused look I'll see on their faces when I come back in without any hair and weak.  I know they'll be thinking "But I thought she was getting better…"  I hate that I will become the bearer of bad news by my mere presence.  If you know me, you know that I really hate feeling stupid and I really hate disappointing people.  This would be an example of the latter.  Honestly, I don't care about losing my hair.  I've cut it very short in the past - it was a horrible, horrible decision, but it really wasn't a big deal.  It always grows back, thank the good Lord.  What I DO care about is the inevitable way my mom's face will fall when she will see me with it gone.  Or the many many sympathetic cooings I will get from the Southern women at church because they'll know I'm sick.  It will be the first big sign of cancer and it will be unavoidable.  Not that I don't love attention, because we all know that I do.  But I want people to want to talk to me because I'm fun and real and enthusiastic and competitive, not because I look sad and weak and cancer-y.  I am so thankful my leg is feeling better and that I have gotten relief from that constant pain, but sometimes I wish that I could have just started chemo right away before I know what I was really getting into.  Now every day I'm getting better and every day I'm getting closer to getting worse.  I'm kind of stuck not really knowing what to do with that.


To prove that short hair isn't the best look for me, here's a little peeksie from my past:

I'm the third man from the left.  Danny says I look like Harry Potter.