Hairs on my pillow

I wonder if I spay my hair with aquanet, would it stay stuck to my scalp for the next eight months or so? Every day, there's more hair on my pillow. It's as though I get up but bits and pieces of me stay in the past, refuse to move on with me. Body parts frozen away at Dana, hair en route to europe, dignity being autoclaved from the scope at umass. It's a challenge to walk in the same shoes that once fit a healthy confident woman in the prime of her life. They still fit, but they carry a balding, mutilated cancer patient. On the bright side, Charly and I have major fun plans for my bald head including but not limited to stickers, washable markers and shaving cream wigs. I had my last "treatment" the day before yesterday and am starting feel what's now becoming the familiar side effects. The tight throat, mild nausea and fatigue. Last week, I was letting all those things that lay in wait at the periphery of my focus take hold, grow deep routes inside of my happiness. I had to let it go and start over, get a whole new world with a brand new sun that has never cast light on the weeds of misfortune. After my treatment, I felt much stronger, I felt, once again, that I had done something, anything to stay here for my loves.