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arrive until my Oncologist said , "Be prepared to lose your hair." He said this with such conviction that I finally paid attention. Shocked at the thought, it was the rude awakening that hit me between the eyes, but I'd never even tried to visualize myself going bald at all. The thought never entered my mind in all that time. In fact, it would have been easier for me to see myself as dead than it would be to image no hair on my head, and as vain as it seems, that moment changed my life, ironically.

Right then and there, I refused to lose my hair, so I made up my mind that I'd find hair to spare, but even with a will more determined than it had ever been, I had no clue of where to begin. I looked all around, but the only wig store I found was in a very rough side of town. So far away from my own comfort zone, it would be a scary place to go. That's why it took some time to find the place and by the time I arrived, my determination was replaced with what I'm sure was a pathetic look on my face. There were bars on the windows and doors, for heaven's sake. In a million years, I'd have not been caught dead in such a place, but somewhere in the back of my mind a voice seemed to say, "You'd better face the facts, or the facts will remain the same." After that, I took a deep breath, locked up my car and boldly walked through the door of the store.

Immediately upon entering, my eyes tried to adjust to the dark haunting room, but soon it became clear to see that heads of hair were everywhere and they all seemed to be staring at me. The store clerk looked surprised when I walked inside. With a ring on his nose and another on his brow, tattoos covered his bare arms and I'd never seen so many piercing's on one guy in my life. He looked like a criminal to me, so I smiled nervously as if I knew what I was doing.

As I strolled up and down the isles, I tried to be dignified, but a lump began to form in my throat. "Oh no," I prayed. "Please don't let me cry in this place." With an overwhelming need to flee, I turned around and smacked into that tattooed man. To my surprise, he'd been by my side all that time, so it seemed rude to race away when in fact, he asked, "Do you need some help today?"

"I'm just browsing," I lied while dabbing my eyes. Still, the guy remained by my side and since he suddenly seemed so kind, of course, I began to cry. As hard as I tried, nothing I could do would stop the buckets of tears that poured down my cheeks and onto the floor, so I decided not to

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