Losing your hair to cancer

My hair didn’t dramatically fall out. Both times it took its sweet ass time and gradually fell. Counting the lost hairs on my pillow became my morning ritual and running my hands through my hair was like a game of pick up sticks. I tried to ignore it and put a ban on brushing, washing and exposing my head to anything more than a gentle breeze but eventually I realised it was just drawing out the heartache. I had to let it go. I remember being so worried about how I would keep it covered up. The thought of letting people see my bare exposed head made me feel beyond uncomfortable. It was like my lockless noggin had suddenly become more indecent than the inside spread of a Playboy magazine. Bot

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