The head is shaved. Chemotherapy made the hair fall, so I made it all go away.
Yesterday afternoon, once Zsolt returned from the office, we sat down in our living room and Zsolt set up his barber shop. Normally I’m the one with the clippers in hand, but he did really well. First we shaved the long hair – so for about five minutes Zsolt and I had similar haircuts (I think I missed a photo opportunity here). Next the guard was removed and he cut it away, except for about 1 mm length because we’d need to take a razor to the remnants.
So forget the hair; now I’m all about cheekbones.
Besides, it really had to go. The sadness of pulling out twenty strands at a time was too much. In this situation, I could take control. I felt relief to shave my head, no joking. An abrupt change too, but good nevertheless.
Now here is the debate: should I go full on bald, or wear scarves all the time? Be it resolved that Catherine is lazy. But is it more effort to shave weekly, or to wrap a scarf each morning? Also, do I want people to see my head naked?
Well at least around Zsolt it doesn’t matter. He’s the one who cut it all off!
Today we and the Sámson family are taking off for the New Forest. We don’t know where we’re going, but we’re shooting for a teahouse. Scones, clotted cream and jam with wandering ponies and stretches of purple heather. It should be a nice drive, regardless of where we end up. Plus, this will be our first chance to pump up the car radio and enjoy that highway breeze.