By Henry Flesh

KINGDOM OF THE SICK 9 When I was told that I had to undergo chemotherapy, my doctor said it was "highly likely" that I would lose my hair. Although I am balding, I was, of course, less than thrilled to receive the news. My hair was fairly long then, gelled up into spikes and dyed a flamboyant blond. It was a look I created on a whim after my first novel was published, and I thought it was highly distinctive. An essential part of my personality, even. The mere thought of losing it sent me into a panic.

Nothing happened for the first several rounds, and I started to think that I might be one of the lucky few who escape the curse of the chemo baldie. Soon enough, though, my hair began thinning, and I found more and more strands in the shower drain. Still, for several months I had enough hair left to retain my old 'do.

One day in April, I was invited to a lavish lunch at an upscale hotel on Madison Ave., where I was to meet a man whom I thought might be important to my career. Generally I wear only t-shirts, jeans and Converse sneakers, but that afternoon I mustered the best outfit I could from my limited wardrobe. I found an old dark blazer, a serviceable white shirt and a pair of good pants, and headed off to what I hoped would be a propitious meeting.

To my cravenly careerist delight, I was seated to the right of my Mr. Big at the lunch, and we were able to talk during much of the meal. As I left, I felt that things had gone very well and that this encounter might prove advantageous in the future, a much-needed boost after I'd recovered from my treatments.

Unfortunately, the moment I was outside in the bright light of an unseasonably warm afternoon, I glanced down and noticed on the shoulders of my blazer countless strands of blond hair. I'm shedding! I thought, and dashed to the nearest taxi. Extremely apprehensive as we drove downtown, I lifted my hands to my head so as to assure myself that my hair was still there. Most of it was, it seemed. But then, when I hopped out of the cab in front of my building, I noticed a mass of hair on my seat.

Aghast, I ran up the stairs to my apartment, then, once inside, stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair was indeed thinner, visibly so. What I had feared for so long was about to come to pass.

Within two weeks I was all but bald. o