D-Day...Anticipation is worse than the act itself

My hair is falling out in earnest. I had a discussion with Joe last night about cutting and shaving my head. It was about 11:00 last night, and my hair was falling out as I was brushing it before bed. I don't like to go for more than a day or two without washing it, so I decided to wash it right then and there. And then more and more fell out. As I was standing in the shower, I called Joe over.

"My hair is falling out in earnest," I said. "It is traumatic seeing it continuously falling out. Look at all this," I said, gesturing to all the hair. "Should we cut it tonight?" I asked, anxiously.

Joe, ever cautious and never one to act rashly (unlike myself, whose first reaction is to cut off all her hair) said, "No. Absolutely not. It is too late to start this now." I stared at him blankly. At that moment, the time seemed unimportant. But Joe continued, noting, "I know a lot of hair has fallen out, but I'm looking at you, and there is a lot of hair still on your head. We should wait, honey," he said quietly.

He was right. I decided to wait, but the trauma of having my hair fall out is not to be taken lightly. Is the anticipation worse? Would it be worse after my hair is shorn? What about Evan? Will he scream and cry when he sees me, and not recognize his mommy? 

An old childhood memory keeps popping up in my head. When I was young, my cousin Christine and I were inseparable. We spent every single day together growing up. Now, my cousin Christine was a very sensitive person when we were young. She would cry when I forgot to hug her or say hi to her. She, of course, grew out of this and is a very successful academic with a Ph.D. in sociology. But when we were young, things affected her pretty dramatically.

Christine had an uncle on her mother's side; a rather short, bald man with extremely thick glasses. Upon seeing her uncle for the first time, she went into hysterics, having never seen a bald man or thick glasses before. For those of you who are blessed with perfect eyesight, you may not know that very thick glasses warp the way your eyes look through the lens. So when Christine saw her uncle for the first time, she started screaming hysterically. "Aaaaaahhh! Aaaaaahhh!" Pointing her finger at him, she cried out, "Monster! Monster!" screamed hysterically once more, and promptly fainted. It's a memory that used to make me laugh. But now, what if Evan does that? What if he becomes scared of me?

Yeah, I suppose I would scream too.  I guess I would be happy if I don't resemble this guy.*
*This is a re-enactment.

Where is Anne Hathaway when I need her? They said that she got really emotional cutting her hair for Les Miserables. But then again, I do not even remotely resemble Anne Hathaway, so it's safe to say that Hollywood won't be knocking on my door after I shave my head.

I think the anticipation is worse. Well, we will find out soon enough. The time is now approaching.