• Mary Eppinger


    They told me to expect hair loss on day 14.
    You worry a lot on those days in between. 
    I lay in bed all those nights, just trying to sleep. 
    It is only hair, no big deal. So why do I weep?

    For over 30 years I have cut, colored and curled it. 
    And now on day 13, I just want to keep it.
    "I don't hate you anymore," I say to my hair.
    "Please stay, don't fall out. The people will stare!"

    The past 12 days I have tried hard to save it.
    No curlers, no drying. Just the way God made it. 
    Will it help? I don't think so. But I just had to try. 
    It's just hair. It'll grow back. This will not make me cry.

    When I stare in the mirror, what will I see?
    Will it be like Joel looking back at me?
    I will wear my bald head held high with pride.
    Once I get up the nerve to venture outside. 

    This won't get me down. Just one more hurdle to jump. 
    I will count on my friends to keep me out of the slump.
    I must get some sleep, now. It is the 14th day. 
    Beauty shop, here I come. "Let's just shave it," I say. Back to Breast Cancer Stories