I have the most beautiful hair. People compliment it all the time. I don’t dye it, dry it, or use any special products. It’s just au natural. I always considered it my best asset. I liked to hide my body insecurity underneath it as well. In the back of my mind I always worried that if I was diagnosed with cancer that I wouldn’t know how to manage without my hair.
My first few thoughts after finding out I have leukemia was 1. my life’s about to change significantly 2. how’s this going to affect my fertility? (that’ll be a post for another day, perhaps) and 3. bye bye beautiful hair.
At first I thought I’d donate it since I didn’t want it to go to waste but then people kept saying why don’t you make a wig for yourself? I’d need to buy one anyway, why not use my own hair? Duh.
So I cut it off.
I had no idea that when I went to the doctor on that Monday that I’d be spending the next however many weeks in a hospital so I was so unprepared. I didn’t have a brush so I hadn’t brushed my hair in days. It was a complete mess. But I wanted to get it cut off while it was still healthy. I had to put it into a million ponies after a full day of brushing out dreadlocks. And then a sweet nurse cut each pony off and placed it into a bag one by one. Then she buzzed the rest and then BOOM I’m bald!
I thought I’d be more emotional but I didn’t cry or anything. I just sat there and chit chatted with the nurse about her kids and then it was over.
Some days I sit here and think how am I doing all this? I just take it one day at a time. That’s how it was with cutting my hair off. I just did it. I remember a therapy session once when I was going through a rough patch I told my therapist I was having a hard time doing things I used to like to do and then one day I just got up and went for a hike, or went to church, or met a friend for coffee and she asked how I was able to do it and I said “I dont know, I just did”. I don’t really have an explanation for how I’m dealing with all this. I just do it. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do.
Ok I lied, I had a little emo moment in all of this. I was concerned that my BFF Amelia’s daughter wouldn’t recognize me without my hair so I FaceTimed her before I cut my hair off and then a few days after to show her the difference. She was a little standoffish but she was eating dinner and she’s 2. In my mind, she just didn’t know who she was talking to. Amelia texted me the next morning and said she asked Alana when she was putting her to bed, “Did you get to talk to Auntie EE on FaceTime today?” and Alana replied, “Yes, EE wearing green shirt”. Which instantly made my heart melt because my (awful) hospital gown is green. She recognized me.
We found a wonderful local place to make my wig. It’s a little on the expensive side but it’s worth it to help me feel a little more like myself. Plus my sweet grandma wanted to do something to help so she’s covering it. Which makes it a little more special.
Amelia picked up my precious cargo yesterday from the hospital along with a wave from the “waving bridge” and dropped it off at the salon. They weighed my hair at 8.5oz! I’ll have a gorgeous wig of my own hair in about 12 weeks.
Until then I’m rocking this bald head!
My hair hasn’t started falling out yet so it’s actually growing in a little. I feel a bit like a Chia Pet at the moment. It’s fuzzy and fun to pet.
When I get released from the hospital, I may whip out some pink wigs from Halloween and plan to accessorize with bright lipsticks and funky earrings so stay tuned for some epic looks.