Rebirth: A New Beginning.

My palms had been sweating all day. Anything I touched was instantly covered in a thin layer of moisture. Typing on a keyboard and touching the mouse all day, was torture. I must have gone through half a box of tissues, made two dozen trips to the bathroom and checked my phone constantly. Until that day, I did not know how many seconds were in a minute or minutes in an hour; an eternal amount. I never knew a minute lasted that long.

The previous night and then all day long I was in an excited anxious and nervous state. I was mourning for something I had not yet lost while at the same time, trying to convince myself that it had no sentimental or essential value to me.

Five o'clock came at a nightmarishly slow pace. I gathered up my things. Stood up, grabbed a chunk of my hair, and quietly proclaimed to the coworkers sitting closest to me, "Say good-bye to this mess. Come Tuesday I may look a whole lot different."

It was 2 days since my cousin lost his battle with pancreatic cancer and almost 2 years since my good friend's death from ovarian cancer.

I drove home in a daze. The cool air from the air conditioner felt nice on my face and feet. My rear left blinker had ceased to function. I missed the fresh air flowing through my hair but I could not chance it getting all tangled. I reached into it. I curled it around my left index finger. I put it to my lips and felt each strand tickle my lips. "I hope someone else loves it and cares for it better than I do/did", I thought to myself.

I got in the shower. I attempted to get dressed but wondered what would look best on me when that night's events were over. My hands started sweating. Hand washing was not alleviating the symptoms. I was not prepared to drive as my hands would slip off the wheel thanks to the sweating. I asked Ryan to please take us to the event.

The auditorium was full of people. All faces were a blur. My heart raced. Palms; sweaty.

The speaker recounted the story of his and his wife's journey through cancer and chemo. My hands sweaty as ever. Ryan, sitting next to me, requested that I put my hand on his lap. My hands got worse. Finally the speech was over. Folks were invited to ascend the stage and get their hair clipped.

I stood at the foot of the stage waiting to go on and get things over with. Palms sweating, I stood their nervously. Mount came over to the rescue me from my fear. We joked around and made light of the situation.

After patiently waiting for my turn (and being skipped over by a few overly zealous people), I climbed into the hard white chair. My glasses had to come off as they would be in the way. The crowd of 100+ suddenly became blurry. The sound of the buzzers hummed in my ear. For the next 5-10 minutes, without the mirror or my vision, my aesthetic fate was at the mercy of the barber, the clippers and the crowd.

Random claps and shouts of support signaled the end of my experience. I put my glasses on and took the smock of, walked to the stairs and got off stage. I was showered with support and compliments. I still had no idea what I looked like and didn't care.

 And thats the start of my new beginning.

 

If you would like to know more about the event I participated in and if you'd like to donate to a great cause, check out the following site and contribute.

http://www.crowdrise.com/ChemoToxic/fundraiser/ronagelman