I held on to my hair longer than I thought I would. I made it almost through my first chemo treatment before it starting falling out. Once it started, it didn't stop. I still hung on for awhile, even as it fell out in chunks. I would wake up in a pile of my hair own. I would pull clumps out when I showered.
My breaking point came when I was trying to eat breakfast and I looked down and I couldn't eat for all of the hair covering my food. I told the nurses it was time and they came in with clippers and buzzed my head. I was really worried how I would handle seeing myself in the mirror in the first time as a bald woman, but I was ok. I knew it was coming and I think I had been mentally preparing for it for some time.
My next worry was how my husband was going to feel. Would he still be able to look at me as an attractive woman? Would be look at me differently now? I asked him this very question and he responded with, "I can tilt my head and look at you if you want."
The next thing to enter my mind was the worry I would embarrass my son and husband. Let me add to this that I also have to wear a mask whenever I am in public to protect myself from germs. I can handle the stares and people avoiding me as if I have the plague.
It amuses me how people automatically assume when you see someone wearing a mask, the person wearing the mask is wearing it to protect the public. They don't seem to understand that the person is wearing a mask to protect them from the public. The mask is there to protect ME from YOU, not you from me. But, I am getting on my soapbox and away from the point.
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| This is my mask and the one I have to wear in public. |
I made the choice that I do not want to wear a wig. I am perfectly fine with pretty hats and scarves.
When I am at home or at the hospital, I don't wear anything and just let my bald head shine.
My husband shaved his head. He said he couldn't have hair longer than mine.
It took me awhile, but I did share pictures of me on Facebook and the response from my friends and family was so welcoming, it made it that much easier to handle and accept. I have also come to view my bald head as a symbol of strength, hope, and endurance. Its not something I should be ashamed of, but a way to show that I am a fighter. I am a winner. I will not let cancer beat me.
And with that, I am going to share my pictures of me and my bald head, for I am not ashamed or embarrassed.
Bald is beautiful.
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