Hair Loss and Cut

Monday, January 24, marked exactly two weeks after my first round of chemotherapy.  

I looked in the mirror while combing the little hair I had on top of my head after I cut it. While it still shocked me to see my hair so short, “My hair still looks good, healthy” I thought.

“Maybe, I will be one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have my hair fall out with chemo.” I secretly hoped.

Well, I jinxed myself.  That very afternoon my hair started falling out in chunks.

I had a piece of lint in my hair, I went to pull out the lint and with it came a handful of hair. 

“Ahh, so it begins.” I said out loud to myself in the mirror. 

Amy, my wayfinder, had shared with me her hair loss journey after her first chemotherapy visit, sending me pictures and putting together her timeline for me.

Sure enough, I too started having my hair fall out in between week two and three after my first chemotherapy visit. 

“Well, maybe because my hair is so thick it will take a while to notice” I reassured myself. 

By Wednesday afternoon there was a large pile of my hair at the bottom of the shower and in the bathroom sink after brushing it.

“Well shit, that didn’t take long.” I said to myself while looking in the mirror at the bald spots that started to emerge on my head.

I went downstairs to Tyler’s office to announce, “I think I’m going to have you and the kids cut my hair tonight” I said to Tyler.

Tyler said, “Okay, should I go get a vegan cake to celebrate? To have something to look forward to?”

I started to cry.

“Why, when I am feeling more like myself, so far removed from my chemo appointment, is my hair falling out now??” I asked Tyler.

“I don’t know who I am looking at in the mirror anymore.” I added.

“We knew this was going to happen. The good news is that we are not seeing anyone and it's winter, you can just wear a hat.” Tyler said reassuringly.

My mom popped out of her room/office and saw me crying. 

“What’s the matter?” she said, giving me a hug.

“My hair is falling out.” I said with tears pricking my eyes once again.

“It's okay sweetie, you are a beautiful soul.  You are more than your hair.  It’s only temporary.” She stated.

“I’m going to shave my head tonight.” I told her.

“Okay, take control. YOU be in charge of when your hair comes out.” she replied.

Later that day, after the kids were home from school and we had finished dinner, I announced to the family, “I’m ready for my hair cut!”

“There are a few requirements that I have,” I shared.

“1. I need inspiring music, 2. I need everyone to take turns cutting it, and 3. I need help documenting it with video and pictures.” I stated loudly for everyone to hear.

With that, the kids and I went around the house gathering all the items we would need to make a successful hair salon at home. 

When I thought about how I would want to cut or shave my head, I always knew that I wanted to include Lincoln and Maya in the process to help them process what was happening to me and feel in control.  

By allowing the kids to cut my hair, I was allowing them to connect the pieces in their brains as to what was happening to me. It would also help them understand the how and why I was going to look differently for a short term.

I have talked at length to Lincoln and Maya to make them aware of the fact that in order to get the bad guy, Reverse-Flash, out of my body, I needed to take medicine that would kill him but also would impact other parts of my body, including my hair.  

The kids are aware that I might look different and feel different while the chemotherapy is working to kill Reverse-Flash.  

They know we need to kill Reverse-Flash so mommy can babysit her grandbabies one day. :) 

I want to paint for you the picture of my hair cut experience. Picture this: 

We have our salon chair set up in the kitchen. 

I have a bed sheet wrapped around my body, held together with a binder clip to avoid hair clippings going on my clothing. 

We have hair clippers and scissors.  

Maya has detangling spray and a comb. 

Tyler has put “I AM WOMAN” by Emmy Meli on our speakers.  

Lincoln is manning the I-pad and taking the first few pictures and videos.  

My mom is standing by with her phone as back-up.  

Maya has voted herself to be the first one to cut my hair, she pushed up a chair to stand on it.  

“Here we go,” I thought.

“No, turning back. I AM WOMAN. I AM FEARLESS. I AM SEXY. I’M DIVINE.” I sing the lyrics of the song in my head to remind myself that I AM all those things.  

Maya, standing on top of a chair next to mine, takes the scissors after carefully spraying my hair and combing it and gently cuts the first few strands. SNIP

“Does that hurt momma?” She asked me. 

“No, it feels good.  You are doing a great job.  Keep going.” I reassure her.

I sing the lyrics of the song out loud now, with my eyes closed. “I’M UNBEATABLE, I’M CREATIVE. HONEY, YOU CAN GET IN LINE.”

Maya continues to carefully cut around my head as large amounts of hair fall down onto my draped bed sheet.  

Lincoln announced, “Okay, my turn.”  

Maya hands over the scissors and takes the I-pad to continue documenting.

Lincoln asks, “Are you ready momma?”

“Go right ahead!” I said, “You got this!”

Lincoln starts to snip away more quickly than his sister, seemingly enjoying the process.

“I love it.  YOU two are doing such a great job cutting my hair and helping me.” I told the kids

Maya jumps in, “Okay, my turn again.”

Lincoln and Maya would take turns several times before we decided that we needed to use the clippers to get the rest.

Tyler joined in cutting my hair with the clippers carefully, starting around my ears.

Rachel Platten’s fight song plays over the speakers.

I close my eyes again and listen to the lyrics, “THIS IS MY FIGHT SONG. TAKE BACK MY LIFE SONG. PROVE I’M ALRIGHT SONG…”

Tears started to fall down my cheeks, I had held it together for most of the haircut up to this point.  

“Prove I’m alright song,” I thought.

“I don’t feel alright and I won’t be alright for a while. This sucks.  Why is this happening to me?” I said to myself. 

Lincoln, upon seeing me cry said, “Mommy, are we not doing a good job?  Do you not like it?”

“No, sweetie.  YOU guys are doing the BEST job!  I’m just sad that I have to have you guys do this. I’m sad that I have cancer.  It’s okay to be sad. You guys cutting my hair for me is helping this be a lot less sad” I told Lincoln through my tears.

Lincoln asked, “So you like your hair?”

“I do, honey. I do.” I said.

My mom comes in on the homestretch and works around my cowlicks as she states, “You didn’t even have hair this short when you were born.  All these cowlicks were tiny curls around your head.” She said in a voice as if she had traveled back in time for a moment in her mind.

“Look at how these hairs swirl,” she said to Lincoln and Maya. 

“Go look in the mirror and see what you think,” my mom said.

As I walk to the bathroom, I run my hands over my head and think, “This feels different.  Am I going to recognize the person looking back at me in the mirror?”

I get to the mirror and I don’t know what to think, “Who is that?” 

I look more deeply into my eyes and at my face. “I see you,” I say to myself, “I see you.”

Lincoln and Maya have joined me in the bathroom now.

“Did we do a good job mommy?” Lincoln asks again.

“Do you like it?” Maya follows.

“How do I respond?” I think.

Truthfully, I don’t like it.  I hate it. But, I don’t hate what they did, it's just so hard to see my reflection.

I responded, “I love it, thank you!”

My mom asked, “Do you want me to use the scissors for the longer pieces that we couldn’t get because of your cowlicks?”

“What’s the point, it's all going to fall out shortly here anyways?” I responded as I headed towards the shower.

I turned on the water for the shower as I gathered my things trying to avoid looking at myself in the mirror.

“What a day. What a month.” I thought as I hopped in the shower.

I looked over at the inspirational quote I hung in the shower as a reminder, “Grow through what you go through” I read.

“Yes,” I thought, “Grow. That’s what I’m doing, I’m growing.”