Yes, I know. It’s nearly a week past The Date. The Date by which, according to my oncologists, my hair would have fallen out, if it was going to. So, I should be in the clear.
Still, the more days I can put between That Date and Now, the more at ease I feel.
This morning, i washed my hair and combed it out in the shower — with my eyes shut. I took a deep breath, then dared open one eye and look down at the drain.
Nothing. Not a single strand of hair.
Nearly a week past The Date. I think I’m good this time around.
Whew. Praise God for all victories, big and small.
Copyright 2011, Amy Rauch Neilson