Surviving Cancer

If cancer hasn’t taken enough from me already, it swoops in and takes another part of me. Now, I know it’s just cosmetic, and there are plenty of people out there who do it on purpose, but I’m not one of them. As mad as it(my hair) made me sometimes, and even when I said I wanted to rip it all out, it was there and made me, me.

As you know, I had my second chemo treatment on Wednesday the 25th. It was the same day that I really started to notice. I was combing my fingers through my hair, and was combing out strand upon strand of hair. Not just a few here and there, but a few and then plus some, every single time. So instead of watching the slow, painful death of my hair falling out, I told my husband, “tonight is the night.” I had an hour or two to let this settle in because both kids were still awake and I knew they would need to be in bed before we got started.

I was anxious. I was nervous. I was scared. I knew it was inevitable, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I took the first couple of swipes, and then my husband took over and finished the job. As my sister said, I now look like G.I. Jane, and G.I. Jane was a badass.

It wasn’t until after it was all said and done that I received some uplifting text messages from some of my aunts. One of them asked me if I was going to bed soon. I said yes, I was exhausted. She asked me to wait just five more minutes, so I did. It was shortly thereafter that I received a picture and a message saying,

“I will never let you be alone.”

My aunt, Donna, shaved her head the same night I shaved mine. This gesture was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I never thought anyone would do this with me, and for me. The support and love I have received from so many, really just puts into perspective how much people care. If I hadn’t already cried enough, this put me over the edge again, but cried happy tears, instead of painful ones.

Still, these pictures so the true emotional pain that shaving ones head has. Yes, it’s a cosmetic thing, but to me it was a symbol of my womanhood, and now I don’t have that either. It will definitely take some getting used to. My head will forever be cold.

Good thing it’s hat season.