Monday, October 16, 2006

expired warranty

It's official; I'm falling apart.

2006 has not been kind to me, and I'm officially convinced that my warranty must have expired at the beginning of the year. As if metastatic thyroid cancer and a whacked-out shoulder wasn't enough, now SOMETHING ELSE is having problems.

You might should sit down for this one:

I have a gray hair.

It's smack-dab on the crown of my head and stands up to wave when I pull my hair back. It's not even in a cute place where I can tuck it behind my ear. I'm falling apart.

It's not completely gray yet, but it's more than halfway down the hair gray. The Hater, who says he's had gray hair since he was about three years old, says he still loves me, even though I'm falling apart. For the record, he has bunches more gray hair than I do. But we're not counting. I know the minute we start counting I'll find another one.

Last Christmas we went home and The Hater's Mom made fun of a small patch of gray hairs in his beard. We plucked them once, but he said it hurt too much to do it again. Since then he's embraced his gray hair.
He says he's like a good wine; he gets finer with age.

This has been going on for a while.
I thought I saw it waving at me a couple of months ago in the mirror. Several times I've drug The Hater into the bathroom to see if he could see it, too. (There's better light in the bathroom.) But before today he never saw it... and so I was in denial. Denial isn't such a bad place to be sometimes.

I broke the news to Mom this morning. She says she doesn't remember her first gray hair. Her words of encouragment sang that it's not that big of a deal. It was a very appropriate Mother answer, but that's the only real answer you can give when you're in your 60s and wear the salt-and-pepper cut with such grace. Blah.

Actually, I'm not as gagged about the gray hair as I am how thin it's gotten this year. Thinning hair has -by far- been one of the most annoying side-effects of whacked-out thyroid problems. I am pulling out wads of hair every time I take a shower. It's pitiful. You know how they say the Lord knows every hair on your head? He's had far less to keep up with on my head the last several months. I'd rather be gray-headded than have patchy dark hair.

But beggers can't be choosers. And either way I'm still sitting here with a gray hair on top of my head, waving like a flag.

The Hater says he's still not "officially" seen this gray hair, but it's there. Why would I make these things up, I asked. His wonderful answer, "I don't think it's gray. It's just a lighter color than the rest of your hair."

I want to Mulligan 2006 now, please.

2 comments:

bill said...

Keeps making comments like that, you're going to have to change his name to Delighter....

My wife says that she is willing to forego November and even December, just to get a new year started. More than not, this one's sucked.

nicole said...

Wait a second, you only have ONE??? Lucky duck. ;)