Hey, great news, yesterday was finally a normal day! I went to a doctor’s appointment, out to lunch with a friend and made dinner - all without having to lie down for the afternoon. More fun today - laundry. I know that sounds ridiculous, to be excited to do laundry, but right after chemo I would look at my laundry basket and not even be able to imagine hauling that to the washer. Now I’m sorting, washing and drying with the best of them. I still draw the line at ironing though.

Now for the hard topic ... I went shopping for wigs. Why is this so hard for me? I have cute hats and scarves, and yet I am dreading this more than the first chemo treatment. Each morning, I am running my hands through my hair. Is it still there, how am I going to feel when it isn’t? Even writing about it is hard for me. I wasn’t even sure at first that I wanted a wig. I didn’t want to look like Zza Zza Gabor or Doris Day. You know, big poofy hair that sits way back on your head. They look hot (I don't mean Paris Hilton hot) and very fake. But, let’s face it, I am not an attractive woman with hair, bald will be a disaster. The boys won’t want to see me sitting around with a fat bald head. Plus, I don’t want to embarrass them at their graduations. So, I thought I would see what was out there.

My sister, Nan, was here and I thought it was time to go and be prepared for the inevitable, bald day. A sister has seen you at your very worse, she was there on those early Christmas mornings when you had no makeup and your hair looked like something from Rocky Horror Picture Show. She saw you in those ever so funky outfits from the seventies. She has seen you through long hair, short hair and all those perms in between and has always felt free to tell you exactly how she felt about every style. So Nan was the perfect person to bring. I couldn't ask my beautiful friends (not that you aren't beautiful too Nan) to come see what I will look like bald.

Of no big surprise, I have never bought a wig before. Where does one buy a wig? No idea. Fortunately, my new friend, Elizabeth, (herself a breast cancer survivor), gave me a brochure for a wig place on 103rd St. My sister is not pretentious in the least. She is very down to earth. But she lives in Naples, she moved there from Lake Forest, IL. Really pretty places. Now I was taking her to the armpit of Jacksonville - deep Westside. Really Nan, 103rd Street is not what I want you to think of when you think of Jax.

Inside the bright pink building, is more hair than you could find in Cher’s dressing room. I am afraid I wasn’t very excited. Nan was doing everything she could to keep me upbeat. Ooh look how cute, and this would look great on you! All I could do was stare at all of the wig stands and their bald heads, and imagine that was me.

I started trying on, and I was able to see what I will look like with no hair as the clerk (who could not have been nicer) has you put on a little footie for your head, a mesh skull cap. We started with the Dolly Parton long, curly blonde wig, just for fun. God knew what he was doing when he didn’t make me a blonde. Not a good look. On to the others. Too short, too long, weird color. I was unbelievably picky. Nan kept going around trying to bring me something I would like. We tried something close to the short cut I have now, but it just looked too short. Finally, I settled on something a little different. I’m not telling, but it is fun.

So then the sales lady told me I needed halo hair. You won’t believe this, but they sell a little circle of hair that goes underneath hats. Crazy you think. But really not a bad idea. Scarves, hats, tams, caps with hair, they have it all.

Now I have a wig, halo hair and a variety of hats and scarves. You never know what you will see me in. I am still worried about it and will probably be crying that day, but now (as Nan says) I have options.