You know the thing with this cancer, on the good days, you can almost pretend it's not really happening. You know, those days, a week out of chemo, when you're not overly tired (at least no more so than anyone else during this time of the year), when you can stomach everything (even your morning coffee), and when you still look ... normal. Once you lose your hair though, that goes out the window.
No matter how much you know it's coming, it's still devestating. It's still defeating. It's still frightening.
Now the dog isn't the only one shedding.
If anyone complains about hairs in their Christmas Eve dinner, I may have to kill them.