My hair is gone. My head was so sore today, from my heavy hair weighing on my scalp. And my hair was pouring out—so I gave in. John and Joey (my hubby and three-year-old) were my stylists. I put my hair in three ponytails and they took turns cutting them off. Then they shaved my head. Joey did some shaving while telling me how pretty he thinks bald people are. He also said I might look funny with a bald head. And he told me he sees bald people all the time. He's very honest.

Today's haircut was hard. It was hard to see my hair fall to the ground. It is hard to realize that my body needs drugs so strong that I can't keep my hair. It is hard to look at a bald head.

So now I am wearing my new hair. I do like it. It's blonder than mine which brightens up my look a bit. I didn't realize how dark my hair had become until I saw it on the floor. My hats fit perfectly with my new style. And I think my morning routine is going to be much quicker now. I just have to put my hair on—instead of drying it, curling it, styling it.

At night, I will wear a cotton cap to keep my head warm—and so I don't have to see my bald head. For now, anyway. I'm sure in time I will get accustomed to it . And I may even post a photo one day.