WE MAKE PLANS AND THE UNIVERSE LAUGHS

I had it all figured out. I was going to make a "Power to the Women of Cancer" video. I do that a lot; I direct movies in my own mind.  They always start with a victim and end with a song like the theme to Rocky.  But this one would be spectacular, I was going to strut into Supercuts and have my head shaved since my hair had started to fall out.  I would be dressed to kill, with over sized hoop earrings, a black choker, and leather boots. Lots of smokey grey eye shadow. I would strut in, say "Just do it!" and strut out like a woman in control of her life.  "Bad to the Bone" would be playing as I strutted out of Supercuts. I even bought the video camera for the event, and put a call into George Thorogood's agent for permission to use the song (he didn't return the call).

But it didn't happen that way.  Instead, I woke up in the middle of the night breathing in fallen strands of hair that had landed onto my pillow.  I took a shower, and all I can tell you without too much detail, was that  it was as though I was the star of my own horror flick. I literally began to gag and dry heave.  I called Supercuts and told them I was on my way.  It was pouring rain out and I didn't have a chance to call my daughters who were going to go with me and be there when it was time to shave my head.  I just ran out the door with my baseball cap on.  I turned the car on.  The radio came on with the one song I probably didn't want to hear at that moment..."Celebrate, good times, c'mon! There's a party going on right here...a celebration, to last throughout the year."  I quickly turned it off. My gas tank was below empty, but I didn't care, I took a chance on an empty tank and went without stopping.  Thankfully, I got there and I only had to wait a few minutes.  No one else was waiting, and there were no children in the salon, which is a good thing, because unlike the video in my mind, I was sobbing elephant tears. I was not strutting, nor feeling empowered.

I sat in the chair and said "take it all off" to the stylist.  I closed my eyes.  I felt the electric razor with every stroke, the hair falling.  I bit my bottom lip.  "Wow!" She exclaimed, "You have a perfect head!"  I was grateful for that comment.  So very very grateful. I opened my eyes, and honestly, I look sort of like a martian, but not a scary martian, just a martian.  She asked if she could give me a hug, and I was grateful for that too.  I wasn't alone.  I was relieved for the hug, and to have the haircut over with. 

That was it. In less than two minutes, I was bald. Still me.  Just a bald me.  Bad to the bone wasn't playing in the background. I didn't have my leather boots or my smokey grey eyeshadow on.  But I strutted out nevertheless. Sometimes, that's all we can do.

Sweet Dreams And Always GOOD Dreams,
~Renae~

p.s.  ...And when you feel like you can't hold your head up, strut anyway.