The Clods One Meets

There's that look , a sort of sad, eye brows drawn together "Aww" of a nonverbal expression. Shall I call it pity? A sudden remembrance of "oh yeah, she's got cancer" look on the face? Others say with one glance, "she's diseased, maybe contagious, I can't deal with this"....but those are rare or harder to read.

And then some open their mouths with stupidity sprinkling out like a spit in the eye. And no matter if I try and dab the sputum away, the sting lingers, and amuses me. It's those awkward times when people don't know how to deal with a bald woman.

Now I don't parade my scalp to the world, but the caps or gypsy scarves are giveaways. The wig is much more acceptable, a real fooler for those folks who don't know me. This winter, sometimes the soft knit hat is just more comfortable to face the world hugging my head. I call my assortment of caps my head sweaters; they keep me warm.

I accompanied my husband to his ski club meeting last night, and in the course of 30 minutes got the gamut of glances from pity to scorn, to some heart-felt smiles. I take this in like an outsider; it's not me, it's this cancer side effect, this hairless alien that walks amongst us that people react to.

I had no makeup on so my eyes disappear without liner. Just green beads without lashes save one long single hair on the lower right lid that stubbornly holds its root. I wore head sweater number four the Jessie hat (from a favorite TV show), a velour -like charcoal gray and reversible black cap (with droopy, baggy Hot Topic boy pants could put me in gang apparel chic). So I wore the dark, snug cap and brightened it up with large gold hoop earrings for fun and went to the upstairs pub meeting room to see many long-time ski acquaintances.

There was that clod from the Christmas club ski party who took one glance and got as far away as possible from me (thank heavens....gotta love the power in that). There was the "you poor thing" look with a how are you feeling question; but that was fine and I said so and she's really sweet anyhow. There was the hugger, "glad to see you, you look great," now let's change the subject" which was fine with me too.

And there was the woman who told me she wished her hair would just fall out so she could start again with a new do. Sorry to say but she's blond. I couldn't come up with the right response as I was mildly shocked at the stupid blubbering coming out of her mouth, and any really good comeback wold have just been wasted between her ears. I know she meant well, but somehow that disconnect of brain and thought and the forming of words on the tongue just didn't come about for either of us.

She told me my hair might come back curly. I reminded her that I had naturally curly hair (she must have forgotten). So she corrected herself saying well it might come back straight then, and laughed. I said it will probably be a gray 'Fro but any hair was acceptable to me. And then she changed the subject telling me about her shopping day and how she overdid it and blah, blah, blah. But I soon found diversion and an escape, plus the ski club meeting was underway. Whew!

It reminded me of (sorry, another blond) a co-worker who seeing a silk kerchief covering my head at work one day, said "I wish I could wear scarves." I'm sure she couldn't read my expression right, one of confusion. "Just wear one," I told her. I don't see why having long blond hair should stop her. I can't figure out what she was trying to say, that I was lucky to be bald? Like the other woman, something just vomited out in an effort to try and say something nice, I suppose. And did either of them regurgitate what they said, kicked themselves later for blurting out nonsense? I'll never know.

And what am I trying to say here? Let me think. Yes, think. Take a little time and think before forming the words of whatever it is you really want to say.