Skip to main content

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:
  For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches.

 On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage.

 I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected.

 So instead of watching the pre-game, we buzzed my locks. I didn't think I'd be emotional. I thought it would just be a small step, another task on my project list that is Project Beat Cancer. I found myself shedding tears, however, and feeling such remorse, a deep sense of loss. I accused John of giving the worst haircut ever, and we laughed.

 It's only hair, I remember thinking a couple months ago when I was told that I would be losing mine. I was not grasping, at that time, all that it meant. And as I looked at my balding head and the pile of silver hair on the floor, and counter and all over my clothes, I realized it was now a very public display of what had been up to that point a fairly private experience. I realized then that my hair may never be the same as I'll never be the same. And I realized as I watched my husband using clippers on my hair, that our marriage just became stronger because the depth of emotion and the connection we forged were profound.


 Now weeks later, I'm much more use to the head with minimal hair and finding head covers to wear when out and about. I'm not even sure I will get a wig. Perhaps for the wedding in July.

 On Tuesday, I got a Facetime from Delaney. She had just trimmed her hair for an organization that provides wigs for cancer patients, to stand in solidarity with her mom! Her beautiful locks will now be adorning another person's head. She looks gorgeous with her shorter hair. And I was cut short (pun intentional), speechless at her courage and tribute. Another moment, so profound, I cannot find the words to express my emotion accurately.

 So I will take a leap of faith, by showing you what the new (albeit temporary) me looks like. Without makeup, headcovering or more noticeably, hair.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

The "I'll Nevers" of growing older

  Years ago as a freelance writer, I submitted an essay entitled "The I'll Nevers of Parenting". It was a list, mostly, of things I had said prior to having children and the crow I was then eating because of the stupidity of the claims. You know little pearls of 'wisdom' that only someone who hasn't experienced the joys of  parenting could utter, like: I will never yell at my child in public or I will never let my child eat dinner in front of the television or my children will never stay up past 9 pm. I yelled at my children (usually when we were both tired and totally irrational!) in public. One time, as we were in the drop off lane at school with a long line of cars behind us, the boys hoped out of the car but Delaney was insisting on something that for the life of me I cannot recall and I was insisting that she get out of the van. We crept along, van door still open, until I got to the end of the line and yelled at the top of my voice, "Delaney get the...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ch ... Ch ... Chemo

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Struggling to not feel like a failure

Okay all of you 'struggling to stand' or 'not wanting to have to use a wheelchair' or others that look upon using a wheelchair as a symbol of failure, you're about to get punched. Punched in the figurative sense. I am about to go on my soap box and my Irish is up which means that I'm fairly peeved (though I've been mulling this over for awhile so I'm not as angry as I once was, which means there will be fewer expletives and a kinder tone). If you've read this blog or know me at all, you know that I did not go easily into using a wheelchair as my primary mode of transport. I too, may have had a little bit of your attitude about the wheelchair being sign of failure or of having given up. My sister, Kerri, helped put it in a different light. She said, and I'm paraphrasing here, "It's actually an energy saver since walking is stressful and you're worried about falling - using a wheelchair will take away a lot of that stress. You will hav...
Post a Comment
Read more