Lucky for you, I didn't post this last night when I started writing it. Dark, sounds of garbled salt water and undertones of suicide... by way of haircut.
I had a teacher in 4th grade that posed the question, Can you imagine what getting a haircut would be like if we had nerves in our hair? He then proceeded to act out what it would most likely be like, throwing his hands to his head while yelling and asking the barber to please stop. His name was Mr. Peterson. He was my homeroom and math teacher.
One second, I'm watching an informercial for T-Core. Looks pretty intense.
So, the other day I went and got a haircut. I usually get about 2 haircuts a year. I like to let it grow because I know that one day I will no longer have any hair at all. When I was finally allowed to drive, I grew out my hair for the first time to see what it was like to have the wind blow through it while I sang my favorite Queen songs. I liked it so much that I've probably gotten about 13 haircuts in the 7 years since. (In 2007, I only got one hair cut. Longer hair days... I'm at the top-left of the page. Whoa!) While getting the haircut a few days ago, I thought about Mr. Peterson.
I went in to Sport Clips (Sports Clips?) and asked the lady to make me look like Brad Pitt. I showed her a picture and she asked me if I wanted to look like Brad Pitt circa True Romance (1993).
Actually, just a hair cut would be nice. As I sat there, I imagined what Mr. Peterson had talked about in my 4th grade class. Considering insulin levels and my blood sugar at the time, if my hair actually had nerve endings in every strand, I would have seized on the ground while simultaneously suffering a heart attack and stroke. No one would make it very far, I'm afraid. When the idea had been planted in my head that we do have nerve endings in our hair, I couldn't sleep. My pulse raced even when I went to the dentist. My palms got sweaty. I was irritable, shamefully irritable. I yelled and I had to urinate every five minutes. A few weeks later, I was diagnosed with diabetes.
Was the fear of getting a haircut the cause of my getting diabetes? Could the very thought of scissors being placed near my head cause my pancreas to stop producing insulin?
Like many others who know little about diabetes, I would certainly say: Yes. Hell yes.