A story so frank, honest and deliberately written, as one woman struggles with self-identity after an accident at a hair salon leads her down a course of multiple reconstructive surgeries, stroke and amnesia, thus opening up a bigger can of all that is wrong in her life. The coming to terms and digging deep into one's own soul as a survival technique to get through some of life's atrocities. Taking up conversation with a God you barely have belief in anymore, in a place so deep and desperate that the physical pain adheres to the emotional pain, where the further you fall, the greater is the abandoning of hope. A powerful surge of human spirit springs from the gutter of this woman's hopelessness and moves her forward, gives her strength and an unyielding ability to break from her past. This is a story of accident, death, loss, sacrifice, struggle, self - identity, and the finding of oneself as a woman, and as a mother. Taken from Preface: I remember a time when my fingers were so worn, my eyes so tired, my tears so dry, thoughts coated in a layer of dust. The walls were tinged and cracked, and I sat, helpless, forgotten, numb, even lost. How many people I wonder, have been there, that same place, and just waited? What their eyes have seen, what they know for sure, what they remember as the round face of a clock ticks in the background. Where the panic rises inside of you, and you look around at whom to call, and then, you call no one, as you push away inside yourself. The saturation began to burn my eyes, tingling the flesh of my scalp. My scalp in an envelope of raging heat was now left suffocating in the toxic chemicals that had drawn numerous overlapping gaping wounds in places that once housed my flesh. The entire right side of my scalp, was no more.The salon had just become my place of deliverance into my own carnage.