segunda-feira, 16 de março de 2015

Saint Patrick's day

Over one year ago I was enjoying one of the most famous days of Ireland, the day they celebrate  their most famous symbol, Saint Patrick, who made the 3 leave clove famous.
Although it's religious connection, the day is more of an excuse for people to go out drinking and partying all day.
On that same day, my first bald spot was spotted.
I will never forget that moment.
"hey, you have you seen your bald spot?"
"what? bald spot? what do you mean? where?"
It was like someone was touching my brain. It was like touching my own brain. I laughed very hard. So hard that I started crying, and than the laughing really turned unto crying.
That's when everything started to change.
I had to say goodbye to my dreadlocks (how much I miss them... and how jealous I get when I see people with dreadlocks). I had to shave half of my head. I had to make a fringe to hide one of the bald spots.

One year has passed by.
I've lived in Montpellier, I've lived in Cork, I've seen the beautiful Côté d'Azur. I've been to Ireland again and to London. I've got back to Coimbra.
I spent my summer fighting this. It was the first summer of my life that I spent without doing something. I didn't look for a job, I didn't went traveling. I didn't do any volunteer work. I didn't went to the fire-station.
I stayed home, and relax.
I went to a lot of doctors, I did a lot of exams and blood tests. I did a treatment, and then another.
I got up every morning at 6h30, and went for 1h job. I did yoga and meditation. I only did things I liked. I put aside my veggie diet and cook and ate what I wanted. I did all I could to relax.

One year has passed by, and  I'm still fighting my baldness.
I do not want to shave again. :'(

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