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.






Comments

Post a Comment

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

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B...

Fall of Giants

I've long been a fan of historical fiction and just this past Christmas I received from my son Michael Ken Follett's most recent book, Fall of Giants. It is the first book of a trilogy that covers the 20th century and the first installment covers the early 1900s up to just after World War I. It includes characters based in Russia in the time of their revolution. While I studied the Russian Revolution in college, this book brought much back to me - including the chaos that reigned for years leading up to the revolution and continuing throughout. I write about this today because the Egyptian revolution reminds me of the Russian revolution. The Russian revolution started out quietly and largely as a protest against a harsh and autocratic government - the Tsar. The Russian people didn't have a say in their government and were very poor while the royalty in Russia lived large. The secret police in Russia often killed and imprisoned people for no apparent reason and there were ...

Vulnerability hangover

I recently blogged about my own #MeToo experiences and then went silent. (At least on the blog). Those posts have been read by over 1000 people, and that's a lot for this tiny little blog about living a life with MS and God and with a sense of humor. Suddenly, I felt like I was living in a world where people that read my blog had x-ray vision and could see my nakedness - but I didn't know who they were. It wasn't a good feeling. And then I heard someone discuss Brene Brown, in particular what she describes as a 'vulnerability hangover'. It's essentially the feeling of regret, like after a night of binge drinking, when you think "What did I do/say?" and then "I think I'll just hide out from the world." If you've never had that experience, kudos to you. It's shame, pure and simple, ugly and raw. So, now I'm on a Brene Brown binge, including all of her TED talks. Including this one on shame:  Brene, listening to shame ...