Sunday, June 25, 2006
Hey, Let's Go See the Freakshow Downstairs
This evening after we had gotten home from a hot evening of fishing and a side trip to Subway for some sandwiches, I noticed that there were two kids looking into our apartment through the front window. I thought it was a little strange before realizing that I had taken my hat and scarf off (it was too hot to wear a wig to go fishing), and when the kids saw me looking at them, they took off running and ran upstairs to the apartment on the second floor.
A little while later, they were back, again trying to peek inside.
I don't really know what to do about this. It's not really appropriate under any circumstances for people to be purposefully peeking in somebody's front window (Brian says they have done this before), and I wanted to perhaps try to talk to the mother about their behavior.
Brian suggested that 10 p.m. on a Saturday night might not be the best time to address this issue. I think he may be right.
Even under normal circumstances I wouldn't want to have somebody looking through my front window into my home. It's worse now, though, because home is the only place I really felt like I didn't have to conceal my loss of hair. But now apparently I do, and I shouldn't have to. I can understand kids having curiosity about the person who looks different or funny with no hair, but I shouldn't have to feel like I'm a freakshow.
We may try talking to the mother tomorrow morning; I don't know for sure. I don't know whether to bring up my circumstances or whether that would just make everyone feel worse than is necessary.
At this point, however, I'm less inclined to care about somebody else feeling bad than I am about myself. I have enough to worry about, and if somebody has to get embarrassed for me to feel better about being in my own home, then fine. Maybe they deserve it.
A little while later, they were back, again trying to peek inside.
I don't really know what to do about this. It's not really appropriate under any circumstances for people to be purposefully peeking in somebody's front window (Brian says they have done this before), and I wanted to perhaps try to talk to the mother about their behavior.
Brian suggested that 10 p.m. on a Saturday night might not be the best time to address this issue. I think he may be right.
Even under normal circumstances I wouldn't want to have somebody looking through my front window into my home. It's worse now, though, because home is the only place I really felt like I didn't have to conceal my loss of hair. But now apparently I do, and I shouldn't have to. I can understand kids having curiosity about the person who looks different or funny with no hair, but I shouldn't have to feel like I'm a freakshow.
We may try talking to the mother tomorrow morning; I don't know for sure. I don't know whether to bring up my circumstances or whether that would just make everyone feel worse than is necessary.
At this point, however, I'm less inclined to care about somebody else feeling bad than I am about myself. I have enough to worry about, and if somebody has to get embarrassed for me to feel better about being in my own home, then fine. Maybe they deserve it.
Labels: baldness, Brian, hair, hat, kids, scarf, wigs
Friday, June 16, 2006
What's the Buzz, Tell Me What's a-Happening
Since I tired of the perpetual rain of short hairs, and I tired of having the coat of hair removed from my pillow after each use, I asked Brian to buzz the rest of my hair the other night. Instead of looking like Smeagol, I now resemble a slightly pasty sea urchin.
Last week I went to a swanky wig store in Birmingham, Michigan and was fitted for two "cranial prosthetics." They gave me a sheet with step-by-step details on getting your insurance company to pay for your wigs. The first advice is to not call it a wig, but a "cranial prosthesis." My insurance company has informed me that wigs are not covered under my policy. The guide sheet points out that a wig is something worn for cosmetic purposes, whereas a cranial prosthesis is worn to cover hair lost due to medical reasons, and is no different from a prosthetic worn to replicate a breast lost due to medical reasons.
The first wig was supposed to be done in a week, but I have yet to hear from the wig lady. In the meantime I am wearing scarf/hat combos. Today I look rather like a gypsy. The stubbly hairs that are left are helping hold my green-blue silk scarf in place which my dad brought back from his trip to Thailand. I'm worried it will slip and fall off, revealing my new prison-inmate 'do.
I feel very conspicuous and weird, in any case. I seriously doubt a wig will fix that, since almost everyone around me will know it's a wig.
Oh well. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Last week I went to a swanky wig store in Birmingham, Michigan and was fitted for two "cranial prosthetics." They gave me a sheet with step-by-step details on getting your insurance company to pay for your wigs. The first advice is to not call it a wig, but a "cranial prosthesis." My insurance company has informed me that wigs are not covered under my policy. The guide sheet points out that a wig is something worn for cosmetic purposes, whereas a cranial prosthesis is worn to cover hair lost due to medical reasons, and is no different from a prosthetic worn to replicate a breast lost due to medical reasons.
The first wig was supposed to be done in a week, but I have yet to hear from the wig lady. In the meantime I am wearing scarf/hat combos. Today I look rather like a gypsy. The stubbly hairs that are left are helping hold my green-blue silk scarf in place which my dad brought back from his trip to Thailand. I'm worried it will slip and fall off, revealing my new prison-inmate 'do.
I feel very conspicuous and weird, in any case. I seriously doubt a wig will fix that, since almost everyone around me will know it's a wig.
Oh well. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Labels: baldness, Brian, hair, hat, insurance, scarf, wigs
