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"&amp;quot;You look like a normal person!&amp;quot; my radiation oncologist declared as she entered the examining room. She hadn&amp;#039;t seen me since December, back when, presumably, I still looked like a sick person. Now, if I could just feel like a normal person. But that&amp;#039;s going to take much longer. Until then, I&amp;#039;m going to have to keep faking it for a while. Thanks to my new hair-do, that&amp;#039;s getting easier. After my hairstylist, Michele, trimmed my hair last week, it started to seem like I meant for my hair to &amp;quot;look that way,&amp;quot; as my doctor explained. In other words, I had transformed from Star Trek extra to Jamie Lee Curtis after an overzealous styling.  It had seemed silly to schedule a haircut appointment for what would take a few minutes of Michele&amp;#039;s time, so I poached my best friend&amp;#039;s hair appointment. Diane was running late, so I sat in Michele&amp;#039;s chair with a bigger grin than I had flashed at the door to a bar on my 21st birthday. I was getting a haircut for the first time since last May! When Diane walked in, she spotted me in the chair and told Michele, &amp;quot;Now wait a minute. That&amp;#039;s gonna take forever.&amp;quot;  It took about 90 seconds. &amp;quot;Take my picture!&amp;quot; I handed Diane my camera. She hit the button and said, &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;ll call this &amp;#039;Baby&amp;#039;s First Haircut.&amp;#039;&amp;quot; Michele squirted some gel into her hands and worked it into my hair. &amp;quot;Ooo! Should I buy this hair gel?&amp;quot; I said a little too enthusiastically.  &amp;quot;Uh, it&amp;#039;s for men,&amp;quot; Michele said, and Diane laughed. I felt like a preschooler getting her nails done at the salon with Mommy. All I needed was some Disney Princess lip gloss and patent leather shoes from Sears. When I got home, I rooted through my son&amp;#039;s bathroom cabinets and found the only tube of hair gel I had left. He can buy some man gel, I thought. This is for me now. The next morning, I spiked up my hair the best I could and left my winter hat in the house. I walked up to the school bus stop, ignoring my numb toes and the odd electrical current feeling I get in my legs when I look down, caused by Lhermitte&amp;#039;s syndrome, a temporary side effect of radiation damage to the spine.  I didn&amp;#039;t care. Momma had got a brand new &amp;#039;do. &amp;quot;Hey, your hair&amp;#039;s really coming in now,&amp;quot; my neighbor noticed. &amp;quot;You look good!&amp;quot; she added in a tone with a hint of surprise. In other words, &amp;quot;You look like a normal person.&amp;quot; A normal person with a new haircut. I had faked it just fine.  "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a22265/hair-after-chemotherapy-radiation/?src=shelter_footer>