Aug. 7: Fairy dust? NOT. EVEN. CLOSE.

So, I’m sitting at my computer the other day, doing something important and totally not playing a game or watching YouTube videos of dogs talking, and I scratch my head. Sort of a “hmmmmm…” kind of scratch, like smart people do to help themselves think. And I look down at the front of me and see white flakes on my black shirt.

Odd.

So I scratch my head again, and there are more.

And then I think, NO FRIGGIN’ WAY, I HAVE DANDRUFF AND ALSO I SHOULD STOP PRETENDING TO BE SMART.

I search the ‘net for “chemo-related dandruff,” because I’ve never had dandruff in my life and I condition my small amount of hair regularly, and even when I was Kojak-bald I moisturized regularly so HOW THE HELL CAN THIS BE HAPPENING???

(I kinda freaked out over the dandruff, which is fairly obvious given my extensive use of the CAPS LOCK key, hm?)

In my search, I found that lots of people have dandruff post-chemo, but instead of feeling better to know this is somewhat normal, it makes me wonder when the indignities that come with cancer ever stop. I’m beginning to think they may not, and that’s going to get me yelling again if I think about it very much, so let’s change the subject.

Let’s talk about hamsters. Aren’t they cute?

OK, I can only pretend to think about things beside dandruff for so long. Somebody’s gotta talk me down, because this is what I look like right now:

 (not actually a picture of me)

And this is what I do whenever I touch my head and see a white flake fall, which is not even a tiny bit like watching snowflakes fall but more like what I imagine lepers feel when they drop limbs:

 (also not actually a picture of me)

Not funny, gods of hirsuteness. You suck. I hate you for giving me hair that grows in 14 different directions and I hate you for giving me dandruff. DANDRUUUUUFF! As soon as I find a way to get back at you, I’m totally gonna. First, though, I have to see a dermatologist because that’s just what I wanted—another specialist for dealing with the side effects of chemotherapy.

“Fairy dust,” my ass.