Hair

Those next few days I found myself so grateful for the hair I had. All those mornings I took for granted having to shower, blow dry and curl my hair into beach waves, day in and day out, now seemed more like a gift. Knowing very soon I wouldn’t have any I would stare into he mirror and admire my eyebrows, unbalanced with the outer ends cut short from two different childhood accidents. And take in my straight, average eyelashes that seemed so perfect now.

The Oncologist said that between the 3rd and 4th chemo treatment was when my hair would start to fall out, and when it started, it would go fast. My mom had found a website that made wigs from your own hair called a Halo wig, which resembled a bald mans cul-de-sac, where the hair was placed around the edge of the cap but a light weight peach material on top. I would need a hat or scarf to cover that part, but the benefit was my own hair would flow out the bottom, an underestimated deep comfort from my old self.

Before we found this resource, wig shopping was not what I expected. The best wig hair was usually harvested from women in India, known for their fast growing and densely thick strands that could weather the chemical process needed to turn each piece from jet black to blonde. The texture of those wigs was far from familiar, they felt nothing like my fine, wispy strands.

I knew that I was losing my hair soon but the thought of prematurely shaving it to create my wig was an agonizing decision. I was told that once my hair started to fall out, the hair strands would become dull and brittle and the hair would no longer be useful to make the wig. Being already two chemo treatments in, I knew I was running out of time. The security of having a full head of hair for 2 more weeks seemed possibly more important than being bald and without the Halo wig for 9 months. 

I told a good friend that I was wrestling with the decision and she called me back 30 minutes later and offered to cut hers for me. The support was unimaginable. My mom and I wept again, so grateful that someone would do that for me.