Three in the morning. Wide awake. Sick as a dawg. Ohhhh well….
Stumbled into the bathroom. While there, peered in the mirror…astonished. The hair has grown below shoulder length. For hevinsake it’s halfway down my back.
😀 😀 😀
Ohhh, how I wanted long hair when I was a girl! My mother, for reasons I’ve never understood, would have none o’ that. She let me grow it almost to shoulder-length once, when we were in Arabia — no hair stylists out there — but then hacked it off and kept it hacked off.
So, I suppose, if she were still living today, she’d be abhorred by the long flowing locks.
The other thing that’s kinda startling, when one peers in that bathroom mirror, is that my hair has hardly any gray in it.
Forhevvinsake, I’m eighty years old! The long flowing locks should be mostly grizzled and gray. White, even!
But that’s not the case at all. Peer in the mirror, and what you see is just a few strands of gray.
How funny! And…I wonder why?
My mother’s hair was largely gray by the time she died — she was in her early 60s, having smoked herself to death.
Her relatives had the most beautiful pure white hair. I think, actually, those women may have been blonde to start with. Possibly even platinum blondes. But by the time I came along, any flowing golden locks were flowing silver locks. Snow-white, actually.
Life is weird, isn’t it?
Speaking of weird, for unknown reasons the crazy-making peripheral neuropathy has fallen back some. Not gone, alas. But much, much milder.
Why? No clue.
One benefit of feeling truly awful — as the neuropathy helps you to do — is that you look forward to the end. Truth to tell, I’m not afraid of the Final Exit, and in fact rather hope it comes sooner than later. Tired of hurting. Tired of feeling too sick to function. Tired of trying to navigate daily chores without a car, in a car-centric town.
Sick.
Of.
It.
And looking forward to the end.
LOL! How does one “look forward” to nothingness?
Oddly, though, there is a point where one does just want it to be over. And here in the wee hours of a March morning, I seem to have arrived at that point. Not only does the prospect of nada no longer scare or even particularly bother me, indeed I’m kinda welcoming it.
Nada, after all, means no pain. Hooooray! 😀
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