Thank you for taking all the hair off my head, making me feel freakish and self-conscious. In the wee hours of the morning when my bladder wakes me for one of it's urgent calls, I pass by a large mirror on the way to the bathroom. Imagine my fright when in the moonlit reflection I see only an old Uncle Fester in a pink nightie following me to the loo. Scares me every night!
Thank you too for taking my eyebrows and nearly all of my eyelashes so that the "sick with cancer" look is complete.
Finally, thank you for taking the hair on my arms, under my arms and from my lady bits to my knees.
What I don't understand is why you insist on leaving the hair that grows from my knees to my ankles - you know, the hair most visible when I wear a pair of shorts, capris, a skirt or a dress (you know, summer clothes) forcing me to shave all summer.
Was it just too much to go the distance and relieve me of this one pesky task while I go through chemotherapy?