Soft bristled brush, slightly used.
Hard bristled brush, slightly used.
Bottle of conditioner, half full.
Tube of hair gel, half full.
Hair dryer, slightly used.
I couldn’t help myself and as I picked up the electric razor, plugged it in, snapped on a number four plastic guard and proceeded to remove seven months worth of hair on top of my head. In those few moments of displacing five inches of hair I felt an intense joy, like I was taking back a part of my life and reconstructing my exterior.
Looking down into the tub at the pile of hair I felt a twinge of regret for never having taken advantage of wearing my locks as a mullet or a mohawk, but in the grand scheme of things, hair styles do not define us.
I have begun my transformation back to my former self. For the first time in a long time I feel positive about my leg, as well as the health care I am receiving for it and the recovery program my physical therapist and myself have been working on. As if the weight of the burden of the past fourteen months has been lifted off my shoulders I have made a conscious decision to take control of the physical side of my recovery, get back to living and slowly work my way into my old habits. Old habits that include; getting back to work, building my body back to where I used to be physically and resuming my interest in photography by actually picking up my camera again.