Have you guys heard about the sheep that evaded shearing for so long that it developed a coat of fur that was 89 pounds and made him the size of “a mini cooper?” It’s true! This New Zealand ball of fuzz named Shrek, somehow got separated from it’s flock and was never found. Until a farmer saw a cloud of white in the distance. It lived and survived on it’s own for years but, unlike it’s friends who got regular hair cuts, his hair grew so long that he could barely see out with his eyes and, if he fell over, he would become dingo dinner!!!
Some articles, obviously poking fun at this poor little sheep, claim that it didn’t like haircuts and ran away, free to grow it’s wool fro. It wanted to be free.
I think I understand just how Shrek feels. As my hair grows, I think I might be in need of a little shearing myself. My new chemo curl is thick and fluffy. Uncontrollable without some mousse to tame it. There are times when I want to go to a salon and get it styled. But then I think to myself, “What, am I crazy? I spent the better part of 2015 looking like one of those hairless cats.” It was not my best look. The idea of a scissor coming near anything that is growing on my head freaks me out! I don’t even Nair my Jewstache!!!
So, what do I do? Face the scissors for the sake of a possibly neatened up style but lose some length? Or do I let it grow and grow until I can’t see in front of me and I nearly tip over from the weight?
Here’s what I look like now at six months post chemo. What should I do?