Carefree Hair

Yesterday, whilst I was volunteering at the hospital, I was in the employee-only elevator, a wheelchair before me, on my way to the third floor, to give someone a ride to freedom. A lady got on on the fifth floor and in the time it took to travel one floor, she gave me a thorough vetting and decided to open a conversation.

"I really like your hair. It's so carefree! It must be so easy to manage. I often think about cutting mine all off and starting fresh, like you."

The woman's hair was about three or four inches longer than mine.

"Uh," I replied, not really knowing what to say. "Thanks, but I'm in the process of growing it out. I lost all my hair when I went through chemo."

I didn't look at her face when, mercifully, the elevator arrived at my floor and I got out, but the volunteer I was with, who was charged with my continued training, was chuckling, so it must have been good.