It’s the oddest feeling. You’re now accustomed to only a few lashes existing on either set of lids. And now it feels like miniature brushes are installed in my lids.
At first glance I see nothing, but looking in my super magnifying mirror, I see the evidence!
A tiny row of lashes is emerging – reminding me of rows of tiny shark’s teeth that suddenly appear as old ones are broken off by use.
Although very positive, this growth is quite irritating – as it feels like something is always in your eye.
The eyebrows seem to be performing a similar feat – although this is far less irritating. The new brow hairs are appearing almost like a man’s 5 o’clock shadow. The new arrivers almost seem to be pushing the few existing brow hairs out. I have five on one side and nine on the other that are still fighting for their position.
This is quite the interesting process.
Since my last chemo treatment was January 13, I had assumed that the lash and brow loss would taper off. The opposite actually seemed to happen as the 30 day wait period between chemo and surgery took place. By the time I came home from the hospital on Feb 17, I only had a few lashes left.
This is a great thing.
Just like the return of my hair. It’s really irrelevant how it transpires or what it looks like – it’s happening – and that means my body is recovering. It is successfully purging the poison (chemo) from my systems and they are re-creating.
This process reminds me of Spring.
My skin is clear and smooth as a baby’s hiny. My hair – while totally white with a sprinkling of gray – is soft as a puppy’s fur. It’s like the new grass that appears as the sun warms the earth and the delicate shoots that first emerge as the crocus and daffodils seek out light.
Getting back to normalcy, I feel, will take a while. I’m expecting to don my hats for quite a while longer. But knowing normalcy (or something resembling it) is coming is quite comforting.