Bristles

I did know that when I got "old" that hair would sprout in places it never appeared before. I did know. I knew that some places besides my head would have white hair rather than dark brown, which is my natural color. I have got used to plucking stray white eyebrow hairs, for example. Not all of them are white. Just a few. As soon as I notice them, I pluck them out, whether in the eyebrows or underneath. Soon, I may have to get a pencil to color the eyebrows all the same. And, as I expected to have to, I have had to trim a few nasal hairs that projected outside of my nostrils. What I did not foresee, though, was that a couple of hairs on my face would actually be bristles. For years, I have plucked the soft brown hair that grows out of the large mole on my right cheek when I saw it. Now, though, there are two bristles that I feel before I notice them with my eyes. One grows out of the fatty growth on my lip. I have asked my last two dermatolgists about removing the growth. They both weren't enthusiastic and said they could "shave it level" and maybe it would not grow back. So far, I haven't had anything done. Sometimes, though, I am wistful that I am no longer young. You see, were I young, I am sure that some kind of plastic surgery would be suggested. At any rate, I know my current insurance will not cover it. It would not cover two small fatty lumps near my left nostril, even when the dermatologist was removing a nearby basal cell carcinoma. Maybe I should find the money to go out of plan and see if I could get them all taken off. That would likely take care of that one brown bristle. Lately, too, I have found a white bristle that often feels like a sliver just on my chin where my neck meets my face. Once or twice, I have broken the skin attempting to get hold of it with my best tweezers. Eventually, I do get hold of it, most times. Yesterday, though, I was so annoyed with the feel of it when my hand brushed it that I grabbed my razor for my legs and sliced it off. It will be there again in a few days, I know, and I will have to try again to nab it. I know, I know, I should be glad I can still see, walk, run, after a fashion, and breathe deeply. More important things do batter my mind. Somehow, I think I've earned nattering about my bristles.