So here's the deal. I'm on week 11 of 12 chemo treatments - so close to being done I can taste it (no really, I can taste the chemo treatments). Unlike *ahem* previous chemo regimens, things have been pretty easy. I thought I was going to make it home free without A) being bald again and B) any unfortunate trips to cozy up to the toilet.
Today I got to spend some quality time with the porcelain throne.
And when run my fingers through my hair (it may not be long, but it's there), inch-long strands come away on my palms.
And I think "Why'd you have to get my hopes up?"