Do you mind my asking where you get your hair done?

Saturday -- also known as "hair day" on my calendar -- arrived and I spent most of it resting. It was that third day after my second chemo treatment and it was pretty much following the pattern of hitting the wall and feeling like all the energy had been sucked out of my chemically altered body. My appointment at the hair salon was at 3:00 and on the drive over -- about 40 minutes from my home -- I felt like I was starring in The Return of the Zombie. Worse yet, the strip plaza the salon was in didn't have a left-turn opening in the road divider, so I turned preceding the strip mall, parked next door and scaled a snow mound to get to the salon.

My stylist took me to a private room in the back and shaved the remaining tufts of hair from my head. As it turns out, I fall into the smooth (vs lumpy) head category. I looked like an egg. I don't like eggs. And I really don't like looking like an egg. I suppose there are worse things to look like, but if asked to name one -- sorry, I got nothing.

She brought out my newly arrived wig and I tried it on. Great color, she said. "It's so cute on you." I looked in the mirror and thought holy wig, that's a lot of hair. Remember, I'm from the fine hair/no body club. Now it looked like I was all hair with a disappearing face. You don't think it looks too wiggy, I asked her. Oh no, she assured me. Remember, we're going to feather it, trim it and thin it out a bit. First time in my life that "my" hair would have to be thinned.

First order of business was to make sure it was sized to fit my head. This entailed her sewing more lace to the lining, a pretty lengthy process. So, while she worked on that, I tried on a few turbans. I wanted something soft and comfy that I could wear around the house to keep my head warm. I found one that I liked and added it to my "cart". While the stylist continued with the lacing, I asked her, on average, how long it takes for most chemo patients' hair to grow back. She said about 9 months to a year before there's enough to do any kind of styling with. Groan. I thought maybe four to five months. This wig was going to be a part of my wardrobe longer than I anticipated.

Once she finished with the lacing, I tried on the wig again. It was a good fit. She began styling, per my suggestions. Shorter around the ears, shorter and more ragged around the neck, a little more air in the bangs. She feathered it quite a bit and when she was done, it looked so different than when I first tried it on. "Not so wiggy now, is it!" she said. And she was right. It looked so much better. Still odd to me, having that much hair -- but so much better.

So, I left wearing my wig, and clutching a bag of purchases, including the turban, wig styling mousse, refreshing spray, shampoo and conditioner, brush, wig stand and some shea butter for my egghead. I reclimbed that snowbank and drove the 40-minute drive home. Whenever I pulled up even to another car at a light, I'd look over to see if the driver would do a double take and then start laughing. Nope. No reaction. They were either polite, or they couldn't tell it was a wig.

I wondered what Jeff would think.

He heard me come in from the garage and asked if I had my wig on. I ducked into the downstairs bathroom to make sure it hadn't spun sidewise, and was happy to see it actually looked better in the mirror at home than it had in the salon. I came up the stairs and Jeff greeted me with a big smile. Hey, this was going to be okay. And then he spoke: I like it better than your real hair.

Hmn. Is that a good thing? 'Cause ultimately you're going to be disappointed when my own hair returns, pal.

I wore it to church next day. My wig's first outing. It was warmly received. "It's darling." "I love the cut." "I wonder if I could get my hair styled like that."

Since then, I've actually had two complete strangers ask me where I get my hair cut because they love the style. I was tempted to whip the wig off my head and tell them to give it a try and see if it works for them. But I think that would probably freak them out. Most likely they've never seen a human egg before.