Rebel
I'm lying on the couch, half-dead. I've been on chemotherapy for one week and still haven't had enough courage to shave off my hair as I promised myself I would.
The doctor told me hair would begin falling two to four weeks after I started my treatment. Either gradually or in clumps.
That's why I decided to shave it off. It would be the least painful rather than prolonging the pain, but...
I'm a coward.
At least when it comes to this. The girl who has lacked a filter her entire life has finally found her match: the fear of death. Losing my hair reminds me that my life is hanging by a thread.
But I will most likely survive.
The annoying lump in my throat was detected early and will be removed after attempting to shrink it a little. That is the plan, and the survival rate is high. My cancer hasn't spread.
I'm fine.