One thing is consistent with cancer: you feel like you have no control. When starting on this journey (chemo), my oncologist and navigator said the day will come that my hair will start to fall out due to the Taxotere that was a part of my cancer treatment.
A work colleague, rather wise from her own experience, told me to shave my head before large amounts of hair started to fall out because it gives you control over some of this.
Although it sounded like a good idea, what woman wants to shave their head when they typically have medium to medium long hair, even if I do wear it in a ponytail a large portion of the time?
Within two weeks of my first treatment it was happening, all it took was running my fingers through my hair and I would have several strands in my hand.
I had heard stories of women who were going through chemo and their hair started falling out in huge clumps in the shower. A part of you thinks, “maybe I’ll be the one it doesn’t happen to”. But it was happening. I thought back to my colleague’s advice. She had said shaving her head gave her the power to decide when she “lost her hair”.
Each day for a week, my hair had started to fall out a little more at a time. By the end of the week, I knew it was time. We called our stylist and set an appointment.
A few days later, as we walked into a busy salon we were nervous; me, my wife, and my stylist. In all honesty, I’m not sure who was more nervous, my stylist or me…definitely my stylist!
As I sat down in her chair, the salon hummed around us. Other women getting their hair styled , cut or colored. She looked at me in the mirror and asked me, “Do you want a 2 guard or a 1 guard? I was baffled. I had no idea what the difference was in a guard size! I shrugged my shoulders and thought about what to do.
She laughed and said it was her first time shaving someone’s hair for this reason. At that very moment, I felt a calmness come over me; I smiled and said, “It’s my first time too! I guess this is the first for both of us.”
After a short chuckle together, I told her to put the shears on level 2 and we would take a look at it.
As she prepared her tools, she took a small elastic and braided a small section of my hair. She tied it off and then snipped it, for me to keep. This was really happening. I was taking control…sort of. I was choosing how I “lost” my hair.
Then I could hear the shears buzzing. My wife was watching while my stylist, Tabatha, shaved a few sections of my hair and paused to ask if it was short enough? We all looked, discussed it and said let’s go shorter. Like, G.I. Jane short!
With each stroke of the shears, the nervousness was replaced with laughter and conversation.
As the time passed it appeared we had an audience around us in the other stylists.
After the final stroke of the shears, I looked in the mirror. I felt confident and thought dang, I look pretty good with a shaved head.
Looking back, that experience gave me just a bit of control in this journey where I’ve been fighting for it. It gave me a feeling that this time, I might just be coming out on top. That day I felt like I was winning the battle.
