I can’t help but touch it. It calls out to me, beckoning me to just stroke it and feel it. The soft fur only millimeters long is like the felt we used in arts & crafts as kids…or like a soft velvet…or like the suede skirt I have hanging in my closet. And like those, it is something I want to touch. I want to feel the sensation beneath my fingertips.

Everything is different. I feel different. I am looked at differently. All because of this. I was stopped twice yesterday and asked if I was the woman in the newspaper…was I the one who supported her co-worker or was I that co-worker who was supported? And how wonderful that was. I was the woman in the newspaper…taking the picture of her friend with cancer. I was embarrassed that people noticed me. They had never noticed me before. What was the difference? Had I changed?

I’m overwhelmed by this. People want to touch me. They want to feel a part of this thing. And they are. Every word, every touch, every thought…they become a part of it. And it moves me…like nothing else ever has. I’ve become a part of something so absolutely beautiful and touching that I don’t even have the right words for it.

This is day 2 of my baldness. I would have never thought it would have had such an impact on me. But it has. I think of K. minutely. How is she doing? How is this affecting her?

I can’t wait to get back to work tomorrow to ask…to hear everyone’s experiences…to understand that this is what life is about…this sharing…this comraderie.

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