Hair is a funny thing and people are even funnier! After eight months of chemo, the hair that I was told might thin, has decided it doesn't like my head anymore. Hair on my arms, hands and legs has been gone for months, but as told, it only thinned on my head--until about two or so weeks ago when it started showing up everywhere except my head. Why? I have no idea! I went this morning for a trim and asked my stylist to cut it really short so I wouldn't be bothered with it coming out and so that my wigs would fit better. Instead, she cut it close in the back and sort of spiked it on top. It is so not me! But, so what? It's hair, it's mine and it's still here today.

The funny thing is that I have always complained about my hair genes. My father looked like a black bear without his shirt, though he was folically challenged on his head. I inherited his hair genes and have hated having hair on my fingers and toes. We all have hair we want and hair we don't want. Most of my life the hair on my head has been the crowning glory about which the Scripture speaks--thick, easy to manage and it grayed well. Not so today. Each time I've lost it, it has come back a different texture and a little whiter. I realized one day that the hair genes I've always hated are the same genes that have kept hair on my head at times when other chemo patients were losing theirs. People are funny--wanting what we do not have or hating that which we do. Well, I am not my hair and just as I've had fun with the reddish wigs, I'll have fun with this "in" hairdo. Maybe we'll take a picture so you can see.

Tom and I drove to Memphis for my scans yesterday. There is a large furniture store in a small town south of here and the owner, in the twangiest accent you can imagine, advertises on TV that shopping at his store is "worth the drive." (You have to hear him to fully appreciate.) Well, when I finished the process yesterday, I walked out to the waiting room and told Tom that it was definitely worth the drive. It was a far cry from the December experience when the vein blew and my arm blistered. We had high hopes of doing a little shopping in a "real city," but after meeting my cousin for lunch we were exhausted and just came home. We go to Corinth Friday to get the results and learn what my next step will be.

I am grateful for the excellent medical care I have received, both in Sacramento and here and I trust my doctor explicitly. We keep in mind the prognosis we got in 2006 and we know the facts, but we also remember when the prognosis was pronoucned that my doctor said, "But, I believe in miracles." For him, those could have been words spoken to comfort and reassure us, but they are not merely words. God is a God of miracles. God can and does heal when it is unexpected. We trust God for that healing power and His unfailing faithfulness. Please join us as we pray for clean scans on Friday. I am reminded of a favorite gospel song, "He Giveth More Grace," and know that God's grace is sufficient for any situation.

Blessings,
Pastor Margaret