Unnaturally Blonde

When I was younger, age 10 or so, I desperately wanted to be a blonde.  No clue why, maybe folks with golden locks seemed to have more fun, be more popular,  you name it.  When I hit age 14, I finally took the matter into my own hands, with a little help from Ms. Sun-In and Mr. Hydrogen Peroxide.  I knew it would just be a matter of hours before my life did a 180 thanks to my newly lightened locks.  Guess what (you know what's coming, don't you?).

It was an unmitigated disaster.

I'm going to save a tiny bit of face and not post my spring sophomore year picture from high school. I'm referring to the one with the clear demarcation between normal hair and shocking "you did WHAT?" to your head orange.  Yes, orange.  I was taught a very important lesson: don't mess with what Mother Nature gave you, unless you are a licensed professional.  I never touched my hair to color it again (okay, minus now with the whole gray business…but that's just so I look like ME, not my…).  So who'd ever think I'd end up a blond without even trying?

Let me 'splain…

Yesterday I was chatting with my neighbor, a very nice lady who hires Cait to babysit and thus, gives her spending money.  We *heart* her.  Her kids love Cait, Cait gets out and makes $$ and we are all very happy.  She mentioned that she heard I was going to undergo "treatments" soon.  I then mentioned I had already started and was nearly (as of Monday!) halfway finished.

"Oh!  Really?  How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Well, fine, I guess," I replied, not sure what else to say.

Then the double whammy:

She queried, "So, are you going to lose your hair soon?" 

Um, how DOES one answer that?

I looked at her, replied that it was 'only' radiation (there's nothing 'only' about anything blip-related, but…).  Not wanting to delve deeper into a topic I loathe, I left well enough alone and didn't mention body parts. After trying and failing to discuss more important neighborly issues, we said our good-byes and I headed back inside.  Then a thought occurred to me…

Back in the day, when I used to Google everything and its brother, I read about hair loss.  There was a mention that one could lose their hair in whatever body part was being fried (my fun lingo).  I guess I either blocked it out, or more likely (and, yes, this might be utterly disgraceful), simply didn't worry about losing hair on my breast.  Not that I wanted to or didn't understand that it could happen…but, frankly, of all the side effects, I just didn't feel that was one to fret about.

Until today, I had not thought about it one bit nor had I checked.  Checking my skin's color and what-have-you was one thing, but I just hadn't bothered to see if the miniscule hairs that once peppered my skin were still there.  Forgetting Cait was behind me, I realized I needed to take a gander and did so at that moment.  I peeked, saw the inevitable and shouted something insane like "Holy cow!".  Cait turned around, looked at me like I had 3 heads and said something along the lines of "What NOW?".

I saved her the misery and muttered that it was nothing.   However, I couldn't believe it.  No hair loss, but a minor change…the once dark hairs are now blond with no help from anything but Mr. Scary Radiation Machine.  I'm no longer eager to have blond hair on my head, but since that is the only side effect I have had thus far (other than a tiny bit of pink that Peter swears I am making up), I'll take it happily.  As far as the neighbor goes, I think I am going to leave well enough alone and keep this bit of good news to myself.