A few years ago I was diagnosed with cancer, and about five minutes later I started having chemotherapy. I expected to lose my hair, but I didn’t really care, because I’ve always felt a little distanced from it. I grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, when you were supposed have hair that fell in great lank sheets to your waist, but mine was naturally curly, so kids called me Medusa.
Buy the October issue of More magazine to read the piece.
