Tag Archives: hairdresser

Treatment 2: The aftermath – Going, going….. gone

In the interest of honesty and realism….. the last three days have been really tough. There has been so much doubt, a lot of tears and a lot of self reflection.

It started on Thursday. I just felt really down and emotional. I think it was coming off the steroids that triggered it. I was at home and couldn’t really bring myself to do anything. A couple of well timed visits from Mum and two friends, got me through the day.

I wanted to be getting excited, because on Friday I was going back to work. But I couldn’t muster the energy, even though I knew getting back to some normality is exactly what I need. I am done with sitting around thinking and reflecting, it’s time to move forward.

But something was niggling me…..

On Friday I awoke to a head of matted fluff masquerading as hair. I got in the shower hoping to give it a wash and make it look presentable. I wet it and it came out in clumps. It was 6:30am and I didn’t know what to do. I was too scared to shampoo, I was too scared to touch it. I drove to work in the rain with it dangling limply.

I walked in the door and was welcomed warmly by my beautiful work friends. The first thing I said was “I’m having a really bad hair day”. The girls were lovely and encouraging, buoying me up as best they could.

I got stuck into my day, feeling my way around my new non-clinical role. It was so good to be using my brain and to feel like I had something to contribute. The day flew by.

But…….. boy did I underestimate how much it would take out of me. By the time I got home I could barely speak. It took me 10 minutes just to get out of the car!! I walked in, turned on the oven (to reheat a meal delivered on Thursday) and got into bed.

Then I cried for an hour.

I realised, it wasn’t about work ….. it was my hair. Work had managed to distract me for a few hours but deep down, I knew the time had come. It had to go. But I still wasn’t ready.

This morning, after a sleepless night (despite being exhausted) I again woke to hair all over the pillow, an itchy scalp and lots of knots. I got in the shower and tried to wash it. As I massaged the shampoo I felt it tangle more and more. The drain was full, I was crying and yelling at Andy.

Matted and patchy

Get it off my head now!!

I started at it with the macrame scissors attacking the most matted areas. Then Andy came with the clippers. It was a relief and it was heartbreaking all at once.

The result

I’m not ready to show you what it looks like just yet. Mr Bee did a brilliant job in my hour of need but I am seeing my trusted hairdresser this afternoon……. just to make me as presentable as possible but also to make me feel a bit more like me……. the girl who has her regular and religious appointments.

Ax

My hair!!!

Wild, bushy, fluffy, thick, curly, ginger, beautiful. All words used to describe my hair over the years. So much of my identity in those many…… many strands.

If I lose it, do I lose my identity?

Of course not. As a friend kindly pointed out, I am much more than my hair or my boobs. I am tough, loyal, giving, a team player, a parent, a wife, a daughter, a sister and a friend. All of which I can do with or without hair.

For my husband, he has seen many transitions through my hairstyles, from quite severely short, to mid length, to long and back to mid length. This will just be another phase.

However, my hair ritual has always been very important to me. I have attended the same salon every six weeks, for sixteen years!! It isn’t just about my hair itself, it’s about the routine as my sister pointed out. The chat, the magazines, the cup of tea, the head massage and the connections are just as important as what is being done to my hair.

So today I went for my last full hair experience before chemo. Cut, colour, massage, blow dry and style. Plus the chat, magazine, tea, hugs and pamper. The girls made me feel special and today’s experience made me come to a decision.

I will fight for my hair, but I won’t put myself through hell to save it.

I have been deliberating over whether to try the cold cap offered to some chemo patients. The idea is to take the scalp temperature right down and constrict the blood vessels, reducing the amount of drug reaching the hair follicles. It is exactly what it sounds like, and means enduring an ice cream headache possibly for the duration of treatment (around three hours). Although some say after 15 minutes you go numb. It may or may not work.

So, I’ve had a chop to get good scalp contact and I’ll give it a try. If it doesn’t work or is too unbearable ………… well bald will just be my next phase.

Rocking the pre chemo chop

One thing is for sure, hair or not, I can still go to the salon every six weeks for a massage, cuppa and a chat. I’ll be welcomed with open arms and it will help me to feel ‘normal’

Ax