O Hair, Where Art Thou?

Tags

Breast Cancer, Chemotherapy, Hair Growth, hair loss, Rant, Tantrums

Each day when I awaken, there is a nanosecond where I am oblivious to the fact that I am bald. Unfortunately, somewhere along the course of my life, I picked up the habit of touching my hair when I wake up–so every morning is immediately met with a hair loss reminder.

But a few mornings ago, I awoke to feel actual hair growing from my head. It felt fine and wispy, but it was hair! I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. Did I really grow hair overnight? I gazed into the mirror and saw it…three or four inches of actual brown hair growing from my scalp! I began to run my fingers through this miracle, and then…and then…

I woke up.

It was all a dream. My pasty head was still bare. It seemed so real, but I guess it was all just wishful thinking.

A few weeks ago, my daughter Grace was getting ready to attend her cheer leading banquet. She asked me to do her hair, which is something I’ve done a million times. Her hair was slightly damp, so I got out my round brush and hair dryer. I clipped her hair into sections and began brushing, rolling, and drying. Her hair flowed so easily through the brush and lightly fell to her shoulders. I curled the ends under, relishing the squeak of the curling iron barrel and inhaling the scent of warm smoothing serum. Her hair felt so much like my hair–the texture, the weight. I had to fight back tears as I worked.

I even got emotional when cleaning my bathroom last week. Even though my hair has been gone for over two months, I still find strands of my once long hair trapped in the corners of the room (and, yes, we have cleaned the bathroom in the past two months). The other problem with my bathroom is the over-abundance of hair bands, head bands, and general hair adornments under the sink. It just seems that there are so many reminders everywhere I look.

Guys, I miss my hair so much. Sure, I don’t have to shave and I can sleep in since I don’t have to do my hair, and I know I should be thankful that the treatment I have been offered will help me live a full life, but this business of being bald sucks. A woman’s hair can be a beautiful and powerful asset, and while I know hair doesn’t truly make up who I am, I still miss it with an ache in my gut. I have a wig, some scarves, and some hats (and they’re cute), but none of them make up for the feeling of normal hair. I know my hair will eventually grow back, but it’s not coming in soon enough. I figured that I would have some kind of growth by a month after chemo ended, but alas, no such luck. The other women I’ve talked with say it took a good three to four MONTHS before they felt that there was enough hair to call hair. Three or four months? That seems like and eternity to me right now.

I want my hair back and I want it now. (insert pouty face, foot stomping, and crossed arms here)

(insert frowny face, abrupt turn, flop on couch here)

(now insert sigh that signals a resigned feeling since tantrum is over)

(finally, look at children and husband and be thankful for life)