#5 - No More Dead Ends!

This morning when I was getting ready for work I noticed something that took me back to the good ole days of Cancer Battles.  What I a saw was not pleasant but it brought very pleasing memories. As I got out of the shower and started my usual routine of taking my thyroid pill (a lifelong reminder of my experience), brushing my teeth, deodorizing my body and all the rest I grabbed my hair gel and begin to put the style into my day.  Inside tip for the ladies who are reading: When you see a guy who looks like he never does his hair and looks all messy and cool the truth is it probably took a good half and hour to perfect the mess.
The medicine cabinet was not quite closed from my pill popping and it did what medicine cabinets do.  Slowly and with an ever so soft creeking sound it begin to open wider and wider.  As it opened the mirror on the cabinet began to reflect the back side of my head which then let me see what people behind me must have seeing for months...A BALD SPOT!  It's finally hit me.  I'm losing the element more precious than gold or silver.  I'm losing my hair for the second time in my life and not on my terms!  At first I was so discouraged but then my mind flashed to the hallways of my high school.  That's when the smile began to form.
Our school had a no headgear policy which simply meant that you could not wear hats. This head covering prohibition did not, however, apply to those of us who were losing our hair due to the toxins flowing through our body.  The principal had made an exception for me which I used to my advantage.  As my hair began to fall out of my head, rather than shaving it, I held on for as long as I could and began wearing hats to school to cover up the patches of baldness.  Apparently one of the campus supervisors that students affectionately referred to as NARCS didn't get the memo on my special headgear privileges.
Before I continue you need to understand that the campus supervisor position was usually occupied by a jr. college student who was a former high school football star and missed being the big man on campus.  They tended to have much to prove and would attempt to demonstrate their power by choosing random rules and enforcing punishment on any student that happened to cross their path.  Unfortunately for this narc, I was the student of choice that particular day.

"Take that off." was the first thing I heard him say.  I didn't realize he was talking to me. "I said take it off.  You know headgear is not allowed here."  When I heard that sentence I knew it was directed at me and my Stussy brand hat.  Normally I would have simply introduced myself and explained my situation but his attitude was so rude that I took it upon myself to teach him the importance of manners.
"That rule doesn't apply to me." I responded a little smugly provoking the obvious attitude escalation and assertion of power that followed.
"You think you're above the rules huh," he replied, "you won't think so in study hall. (study hall was detention but during lunch hour) Now take off your hat and give it to me."
And there it was.  His fatal flaw.  Looking back I feel a bit sorry for the young man who had no idea what was coming but he wanted the hat so it was my job to give it to him.

I reached up with my right hand and remove my cap as if to comply with the great and powerful supervisor's wishes.  As he placed his hand palm up for me to place my hat I pulled the switch-a-roo and with one swoop of my left hand I reached into my scalp grabbed for a chunk of hair which came out as if it were just laying there on top of my head but not attached, took my fist full of hair and sprinkled it lightly into his open palm. "That's my hat pass," I said, "I have cancer."
His eyes opened wide as his mind tried to grasp what he had just experienced.  Without looking up he motioned for my friends and me to move on.  Over the next two years I spent in high school we never had another interaction.  Each and everytime he would see me his walkie-talkie would magically start calling to him and he would be off to stop campus crime somewhere other than my path.

For me this was the first in a long line of funny incidents involving hair and home infusion devices which I'll share later.  My thought on the subject is that we work so hard to keep this insignificant stuff attached to us.  Make up has to look right (ladies), hair needs to be just messed up enough (guys), and everything on the outside needs to fit into this perfect idea we have what it means to be normal.  Here's what should matter.  The fact that you're alive to experience hair loss is more important than the fact that you're losing hair off your head and all the other places (bet you non-cancer fighters never thought about the other places before did you).
You'll get new hair.  In fact you can get new hair now.  Any color or style you want can be ordered possibly paid for by your insurance.  Enjoy the headgear pass.  Find something funny to do when people notice your noggin.  You have something to smile about cause you're living.

So cheer up you've got cancer.  Certain rules don't apply to you today!