I should post a picture because I'm sure people are curious, but I'm chicken.  Yes, I do have hair.  It is a little curly and completely grey.  There are a few colored strands scattered among the white ones now, but at first there wasn't a colored strand in the bunch  I called it the Aryan Nations of hair.  People tell me it looks good, but I still feel like a stranger is staring at me from the other side of the mirror.  And I have, on more than one occasion, been offered the senior citizen discount.  It took two times before I realized the correct answer was YES and that they should consider the lost revenue  penance for asking.

Daily I ask myself if it is time to color but I have not yet done so.  I like to think I am beyond such things.  But really, I am not.

The most difficult thing about the change is running into people I haven't seen in over a year and who know nothing of what I've been through.  I want to say IT WAS CANCER - NOT A LIFESTYLE CHOICE.

Because I can hear the words they are too polite to say...

What were you thinking....

What I am thinking is this:  It is nice to have hair.  People no longer see me as sick.  I don't get 'the look'.  In fact, I barely remember 'the look'.  Until I go in for my blood tests.  In the waiting room, I smile at the women with covered heads and sunken eyes and fragile skin and I remember.  I want to tell them that it all goes by so fast. I want to tell them that soon they will be complaining about the curl or the grey.  But I don't because I know some people don't get better.  For some people, hair is something that is gone forever.

Mine is just grey.