It's a jungle down there

I was only suppose to be in the hospital for five days. I figured maybe seven so I had a lot of planning to do. I had my hair cut a week before surgery. My eyebrows and upper lip waxed two days before, a manicure and pedicure - only buffing - at the same time. I shaved, closely, the day before and the morning of surgery, making sure I didn't cut myself because, silly me, I didn't want to get an infection and make myself sick. I packed my lipgloss and lip balm, facial care stuff, lotion, tweezers, toothbrush, floss, eyeglasses and mirror. That's it. Change of clothes, granny underwear, jammies and a robe. I made sure my dog was groomed, made a list of all the household stuff that needed to be done, paid my bills, left my atm card and a list of all my access codes in an envelope, as a precaution.

After about six weeks from waking up, I asked for a mirror and really looked at my face. I'm not super vain, I'm a normal girl. I don't mind going out without makeup, I do mind, however, looking like bride of Sasquatch. Something happened to my hair growth while I slept in my coma. It was as if my hair went, "Partay!!" and rumba'd right out of my follicles. I had never seen hair so long on my face before. I had a Fu Manchu mustache. I did. I could do the evil villain mustache stroke because I actually had the facial hair to accompany the motion! Remember Jim Carrey's Vera de Milo character on In Living Color? Remember her unibrow? Mine wasn't as thick but it came close. I had this lone hair on my left upper arm, about two inches long that resembled a pubic hair. Sadly, I developed ear and nose hair. Yup, I had old man hair syndrome. Oh, and the hair on my toes. My toes! I was told I had hobbit feet. Me, hobbit feet. Bad enough my left foot would probably never get back into a size six shoe again, now I had hair sprouting off the tops of my toes and feet. Okay ladies, it's time to talk about the bikini line. Now, six weeks is a long time to go without trimming. We all know that. But let me tell you something. When your own father starts singing to you, "It's a jungle down there" you know it's bad. What could I do?

Friends would come to visit and I would flash them, not on purpose but I'm lying in an open hospital gown with my leg propped up. Chances you were gonna see something you didn't expect happened all the time. I actually had offers from some of my girlfriends for a trim. Now that's love!

My doctors explained to me that my body had gone through severe trauma and that sometimes in response these things happened. It's called, "Idiopathic" and I personally think that's just medical jargon for "DUH?" Let's break it down. It's pathetic. They're idiots. They don't know. How hard is that? I don't know. From personal experience, doctors had the most difficult time sounding out those three syllables. It was if their lips were glued together and all that came out were noises similar to those made by Charlie Brown's teacher, "mwa mwa mwa mwa mwa mwa." Maybe they should have buttons made that light up when the doctor pushes some tab on the inside of his/her pocket. That way, they're not actually saying it, the button is saying it for them. "Doctor, why is there a two inch pubic hair growing out of my left arm?" I DON'T KNOW

The body does weird things when it has a chance. Hair sprouts out all over the place, odors abound, your nails don't grow as fast. But then, other wonderful stuff happen. Your body heals when others doubted it was possible. Everyday something else happens, maybe not so great, yet it's a step in the journey towards healing. But the hair thing? I don't know.