I picked Wes up from work today to take him to his radiation appointment. We were chatting. How was your day? How was your energy? Well, I see at least you still have your hair...as I snuck a look at his beard and chuckled.
He paused, a funny look on his face. "Actually..." and he whipped off the hat I"d knitted during his biopsy surgery. I pulled the car over, still in the parking lot of the place where he works, so I could take a look.
Sure enough, a couple of bald spots on the side of his head: one of them as big as my palm. another, about thumb sized.
I joked that at least now we know the pills aren't placebos. The laughter covered up tears. I noticed he looked pale, wan, and worn out.
His hat went right back on, and we ran a couple of errands (filling prescriptions at the pharmacy, checking mail at our P.O. box...nothing earth shatteringly fun).
After supper I shaved his head with barber clippers. I've done it hundreds of times before.
But this time it sure felt different.