When we met with the specialist in August, he recommended I start chemo right away. Then he said, "Three weeks after you start chemo, all your hair will fall out." (He's not one for sugar-coating.) So, as I sat in his office trying to process all the information about the tumors, my diagnosis, the treatment options, and the "non-curative"-ness of what I have, I also attempted to wrap my mind around the fact that within a few short weeks I would be completely bald.
Granted, in the grand scheme of things, losing my hair is a minor issue. I mean...it's just hair, right? It will grow back. But combined with everything else, it was a difficult pill to swallow.
As I mentioned last time , I've always had thick, naturally curly hair. While I have often longed for straighter, "simpler" hair, my hair is the outward feature people comment on most: "Oh, I wish I had naturally curly hair." (Trust me...it's not all that glamorous.) "I bet you don't have to do anything to your hair!" (Yes, if you consider applying a mountain of product to tame the beast "not doing anything," then sure.)
To make matters worse, after a 35-year battle, I had finally tossed the straighteners and flat iron and embraced my God-given curls. I even began to like them... a little. And I was just waiting for 80s hair to come back, because let me tell you, this girl can rock some big-hair-band hair (see middle picture above)!
I didn't really intend to approach my hair loss in phases, but that's how it happened. And I think it made the whole process a little more bearable.
Phase 1: Short
Going into my first treatment, I still wasn't sure what to do about my hair...face it head on and shave it all, or wait for the inevitable to happen? I had read that short hair is easier to manage as it begins to fall out, and that seemed like a logical first step. A good friend who is a stylist by trade came over one evening and gave me this cute new 'do! I loved it so much I was sad I hadn't done it months ago! (Thank you, Sheila!)
Phase 2: Thinning
True to my doctor's prediction, my hair started thinning a couple of weeks after my first treatment. Just a few strands at first, and I thought it would be a slow transition...maybe I wouldn't lose my hair at all. (I had heard of that happening.) It continued that way for several days. Then, suddenly it started coming out in clumps...HUGE clumps! It happened so quickly, I wasn't prepared to take the next step yet. Thankfully, I had plenty of hats to wear!
Phase 3: The Razor
The thinning phase didn't last long. Now I had reached the point I'd been dreading. I really wrestled with the timing of when to shave my hair. I wasn't worried about "looking different" or not having hair. I struggled with the fact that everyone would know what I was going through. I couldn't go to the store, or out to dinner, and pretend like nothing was wrong. Once my hair was gone, everyone who saw me would know I have cancer.
But I finally reached the point where I grew weary of sweeping the bathroom floor and vacuuming my shirt multiple times a day. I knew what I needed to do.
L: baldy, R: my look for the first time I went out without hair
My friend again came over and shaved what was left of my hair. Once it was done, I was fine. I could move forward and start thinking about how to work in all those fabulous accessories I had been collecting.
Phase 4: Scarves and Wraps
I quickly discovered that without any hair on one's head (or neck), one tends to get very cold...especially when one lives in Missouri...in October. For that reason, I prefer to wear hats that came down farther on my head. I also started wearing more scarves (around my neck or on my head) and head wraps.
My absolute favorite head covering for warmth and comfort is this inexpensive method (Seriously, if you know someone going through chemo, forward this video to her. It will change her life!):
Phase 5: Cranial Prosthesis
Yep, that is what it's called (especially if you get a prescription from your doc, which you might want to do for insurance purposes...just sayin'). I wasn't sure I wanted to get one (a.k.a. "a wig") because I had heard they are incredibly uncomfortable and unnatural. But on a whim a couple of weeks ago, Hubby and I stopped in a wig shop specifically for cancer patients. I decided to have fun with it, because honestly how many times in your life do you get the opportunity to try so many hair colors and styles at one time?
I finally tried on a cute little pixie cut that my husband swore was very natural-looking. It is eerily close to my original hair color, although not a style I would have ever chosen for my own hair. Still, I liked it. It's fun. It's cute. It's warm.
And bonus...I it looks great with a cute scarf tied around it!
So, if you see me out and about, chances are you will see me in a hat, a wrap, or my cranial prosthetic. Pretty sure you won't catch me walking around in my bald head, though...it's just too cold for that!
This post is part of the series, Embracing Hope. In the coming weeks, we'll look at why we can put our hope in God, how we put our hope in God, and what we can do when it feels all hope is lost. Won't you come along for the journey? Consider subscribing via e-mail so you can receive new posts delivered directly to your inbox! Simply enter your e-mail address in the box to the right. To view the entire series, click here.