The Ultimate Bad Hair Day

I thought I'd experienced bad hair days until I was told my hair was going to fall out. Hearing it is one thing, the reality is something else.

Important Note: Not all chemo causes hair loss!

I loved having long hair. It made me feel younger. So many woman get to a "certain age" and get their hair cut super short with a permanent of tight curls. Both my Nana's wore their hair that way. I convinced myself that long hair equalled youth. Of course, that is nonsense but then alot of my logic is considered a little crazy.

At the time I was told I would need chemo my hair was long, longer than it had ever been.

I guess I should share with you that I never expected chemo was going to be necessary. I thought the surgery would eliminate all the cancer and this life challenge would be in my rearview mirror. More of my "mzdavinci logic."

In fact, the day the doctor told me I would have to have chemo as a follow-up to my surgery, I went through all the activities of the day in a daze. Even now thinking back on it, it seems like a slow motion movie.

When I met with the chemo nurses to learn about my schedule and procedure, they explained that this particular "cocktail" would make my hair fall out. They said that it would start to fall out about 2 weeks after the first treatment.

Let me reiterate, not all chemo treatments result in hair loss. Every person, every situation is uniquely different.

The nurses suggested that I get a wig before my hair fell out. They also said it would hurt. Bald men never complain that losing their hair hurt. I had men friends who had lost their hair and never complained. It sounded ridiculous.

Let me assure you now they were right. Something less than terrific goes on with the hair follicles on your head thanks to chemo and your hair does hurt. Very strange but true.

The Saturday before my first chemo treatment, I went to a salon and had my hair cut and donated to locks of love. It made the whole process of losing my hair feel worthwhile. To find more information about Locks of Love go to www.locksoflove.org
Having my hair short for a couple of weeks helped me get used to the idea.

The nurses advice was helpful.

I knew I didn't want to be standing in the shower and watch my hair tumble off my head down to the drain. Once my scalp started to tingle and my hair hurt and started to come out in my brush I went to buy a wig.

The clerks that helped me select one were kind and encouraging. They offered to take me into a private area and shave my head so this ordeal would be over. I said yes.

Even now I can't say I enjoy wearing a wig. It is hot and I miss my hair. I admire those women who go out in public with their heads bald or wear a scarf or hat. I'm more comfortable wearing a wig. Everyone needs to do what makes them feel best. You need to do whatever you makes you most comfortable and at ease.

Surprise! When they say you will lose your hair they don't mean only on top of your head. They mean ALL your hair will fall out. It just didn't click that I would lose hair everywhere!

Losing my eyebrows and eyelashes has been the most emotional consequence of hair loss for me. It feels as though I have lost expression. I've tried to apply false eyelashes and pencil in some eyebrows. Apparently, these aren't where my talents lie. It looked like a caterpillar died on my eyelid and the attempt at eyebrows was a total disaster. I wish you more success.

Thank goodness here in Florida wearing sunglasses everywhere doesn't seem too out of place.

Lucky me!

No doubt it is strange to title a section "Lucky me!" Cancer has never been on my to do or wish list, heaven's no. I'm grateful that this frightening, debilitating, nightmare of a disease has happened to me and not to someone else in my family.

I've had friends who have lost their struggle to beat cancer. My parents each died from it.

I know from first-hand experience it is easier to be the one faced with the challenge. It is much more heart wrenching and difficult to feel helpless wanting so very much to make things better for someone else.

When my dad was diagnosed with prostrate cancer he went through a series of emotions; fear, disbelief, the why me syndrome and overwhelming concern about what would this mean for my mom and our family.

A week or so after receiving the news, I was visiting my parents in Tennessee. It was the wee small hours and I was sitting in their livingroom unable to sleep. (A common side effect of being nocturnal and having insomnia.) My dad came out of his room and headed to the kitchen his whole demeanor had changed. I asked him if he was okay. He said he was great.

"Great?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "I realize I was given a great gift. Everyone is going to die sometime. This diagnosis is my wake-up call to treasure and live each day. The doctor is human. He can't tell whether I will live 2 years or get hit with a bus tomorrow. There is no expiration label on me."

We hugged, we smiled. We watched some crazy show on TV and went to bed. Each of our lives were forever changed. My dad went on to live 9 more terrific years and I have done my best to treasure and live each day as though it might be my last.

Sharing that moment in the wee small hours with my dad helped me to see my own diagnosis so many years later as my own gift. A reminder that I need to continue to treasure and live each day. They call it the present because it truly is a gift.

If you have managed to read this long reamble then please do yourself a favor. Take off all your clothes and inspect your naked body. Look everywhere. You won't find an expiration label. There isn't one. No one knows when our time is going to be up.

Don't let anyone or any circumstances label you. May you find joy in your day and strength when it is tough. May you remain curious as to what tomorrow will bring. Don't give up! You are uniquely special and worthy of happiness.

You may surprise yourself someday when you hear yourself say, "Lucky me!"