Last year, The Cut announced in an article written by journalist Cat Zhang that being bald was β finally β cool. βJust when it became normal to drop five figures on a thicker hairline, a new cultural vanguard rose up and said: βFuck it, we bald,ββ she asserted. Seguir leyendo
Last year, The Cut announced in an article written by journalist Cat Zhang that being bald was β finally β cool. βJust when it became normal to drop five figures on a thicker hairline, a new cultural vanguard rose up and said: βFuck it, we bald,ββ she asserted.
When Emma Heming Willis walked into a neurologistβs office nearly four years ago, she left with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, surprise, anxiety, disorientation. But to cope with them, she left with just one thing: a piece of paper. A single brochure, a single printed sheet, was all the former model β who turns 48 on June 18 β took with her from that medical center. She was drowning in medical jargon and technical terms but was lost as to how to proceed. Because she had just been told that her h
When Emma Heming Willis walked into a neurologistβs office nearly four years ago, she left with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, surprise, anxiety, disorientation. But to cope with them, she left with just one thing: a piece of paper. A single brochure, a single printed sheet, was all the former model β who turns 48 on June 18 β took with her from that medical center. She was drowning in medical jargon and technical terms but was lost as to how to proceed. Because she had just been told that her husband, superstar Bruce Willis, the kind-hearted action hero admired around the world, not only had aphasia β as they had known for months β but also frontotemporal dementia, an incurable and irreversible condition. And there she was, a small piece of paper in her hand, the world crumbling beneath her feet. Perhaps that was the spark that led Heming to become, in addition to a wife, mother, caregiver, and patient advocate, an author.