The last few days have been hard, emotionally.
I cried. I did lots of zone 2 cardio. I listened to George Winston’s December. I went to acupuncture (which really means: I sat with my thoughts for an hour).
And then I wrote about it. And I shared what I wrote. Mostly cathartic, slightly vulnerable. I think that’s what growth is supposed to feel like, right? (See previous post on Seven Stages of Not-Quite-Grief)
And then I got ready for the day. AND MY HAIR FIT INTO PIGTAILS. What!?! Has life ever been this DELIGHTFUL?
I’m back, people! One inch at a time, I’ve been told. Growth, indeed.
Post-chemo success = French braid that stays and one-inch pigtails.
I mean… how cute are these little guys?