My last real haircut was in June of 2008. I knew that I was going to start chemo in July and was going to lose my hair so I wanted to have at least a month of a GREAT haircut. It lasted roughly 4 weeks and then I had that healthy head of hair shaved off.
After being bald, one would think that I would never again cut my hair, but it actually felt great. When my hair started growing back, it was very light and fuzzy for its first venture back into the world. As it has continued to grow, it has gotten thicker and much curlier than what I had before. My hair started growing back after my last chemo in September, but has taken several months to be long enough to do anything with. There still isn't much there for length, but I took my short little hairs into the salon yesterday and had it cut and colored.
I am very happy with the end result. They cut all of the fuzzy baby hair ends off and put a nice rich brown color into it so it doesn't look so mousy. It is still curly and I'm sure will continue to be, but at least now I can grow my hair out and it will look like a style instead of just grow-out. People might even think I have this hairstyle on purpose!
Both of my children asked me if this meant that I was going to keep my hair short as I think they both thought I would just let it continue to grow until it was similar in length to what it was before. They like the new cut, but I think they are a little alarmed that I have lost my mind if I am cutting the 2 inches of hair that I have.
When you start chemo, everyone tells you that it is only hair and it will grow back. It isn't quite as simple as that and there are lots of emotions that go with being bald, but yes, it does grow back and thank goodness it does!
Showing posts with label hair loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair loss. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Hair-Before, During and After
Shana is taking her cancer diagnosis by the horns and is cutting off much of her long blond hair today in anticipation of chemo-induced hair loss. I admire her for doing it. Everyone has to do what makes them comfortable and this is her way of taking control of the situation.
I know that it is the hardest part of having cancer for many people, but I found that though the anticipation was horrible, once my hair was gone, I never looked back. There are difficulties to being bald, but I never felt bad or embarrased about not having hair. I felt like it made other people uncomfortable sometimes, but when I looked in the mirror, I just saw me. Maybe more of me than I had before. I actually had to take a look at my face since I couldn't focus on how my hair looked.
My hope for Shana is that she finds the strength and beauty that can come from losing your hair. Whether she chooses a wig, a scarf, a hat or none of the above, I hope she feels comfortable enough in her own skin to be proud of how she looks.
I am including before, during and after pictures to remind her that it really does grow back. Mine is in the process of growing back and still isn't very long....but it is hair and it is mine and I am comfortable with it.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Gone Commando!
Well, I've done it, I have gone commando. I have given up the hats, scarves and wigs! I have unveiled my fuzzy little head to friends, family and now collegues. No one has passed out or driven off the road so I think I am going to stick with it.
I shaved my head on July 16 http://tracy-breastcancerandme.blogspot.com/2008/07/head-shaving-day.html right after my first round of chemo in anticipation of my hair loss. I tried out the GI Jane look, the cue-ball look, the baby duckling look and now I am just going for the "What the heck! It's hair and I love it" look. 6 months is just too long to be bald and have to wear something on your head.
My children have been telling me for months that I look fine and don't need anything on my head. I didn't think I looked bad, I just didn't want to shock the daylights out of people. Now, about that returning grey hair....
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Trials and Justice
Yesterday I went in to Swedish Hospital to talk to the research coordinator for the clinical trial that I asked to be in. This particular trial fits my situation perfectly. It is for early stage breast cancer patients who have completed chemo and radiation and are taking tamoxifen. I specifically asked to be in this trial because it adds bisphosphonates to the tamoxifen regime. Bisphosphonates are drugs generally used for bone loss, such as osteoporosis. They have been found to have a significant impact on distant recurrences of breast cancer to the bones. This trial measures the use of tamoxifen with bisphosphonates administered in different ways, via IV or taken in pill form.
I was really excited to be part of it since the benefits are significant. Unfortunately I was told that I was too far out from chemotherapy. The people who run the study set it up as part of the criteria that the participants were no more than 8 weeks out from chemo. I am 12 weeks out. I never thought I would be disappointed to be further away from chemo. I am extremely disappointed that I can't be part of it. I am going to do whatever I can to get my doctor to prescribe Zometa (the bisphosphonate) for me so that I can get the benefits associated with the study.
Since I am 12 weeks out from chemo, my body is recovering from being assaulted. I have my energy back and I feel really good. I feel healthy and whole. The injustice of it all though is that now that I am feeling healthy, I still look sick. Though my hair is growing and people continue to remind me that it is, I still look like "Cancer Girl" when I look in the mirror. My mutinous eyelashes and eyebrows decided to take a hike at about 8 weeks after my last chemo and though they are coming back, it just isn't fast enough. What kind of justice is it when the hair on my chin, under my arms and on my legs comes back with a vengeance but the hair on my head is growing back at a snails pace? Drat! I want to look as healthy on the outside as I feel on the inside. Every morning I look in the mirror and though I see someone who is healthy and happy and I am thankful for that, there is only one word that comes to mind when looking at my head....GROW!!
I was really excited to be part of it since the benefits are significant. Unfortunately I was told that I was too far out from chemotherapy. The people who run the study set it up as part of the criteria that the participants were no more than 8 weeks out from chemo. I am 12 weeks out. I never thought I would be disappointed to be further away from chemo. I am extremely disappointed that I can't be part of it. I am going to do whatever I can to get my doctor to prescribe Zometa (the bisphosphonate) for me so that I can get the benefits associated with the study.
Since I am 12 weeks out from chemo, my body is recovering from being assaulted. I have my energy back and I feel really good. I feel healthy and whole. The injustice of it all though is that now that I am feeling healthy, I still look sick. Though my hair is growing and people continue to remind me that it is, I still look like "Cancer Girl" when I look in the mirror. My mutinous eyelashes and eyebrows decided to take a hike at about 8 weeks after my last chemo and though they are coming back, it just isn't fast enough. What kind of justice is it when the hair on my chin, under my arms and on my legs comes back with a vengeance but the hair on my head is growing back at a snails pace? Drat! I want to look as healthy on the outside as I feel on the inside. Every morning I look in the mirror and though I see someone who is healthy and happy and I am thankful for that, there is only one word that comes to mind when looking at my head....GROW!!
Monday, October 13, 2008
Duckling
I am now almost 5 weeks out from my last chemotherapy. I am feeling much more like a normal person. My energy is back, I don't have any aches or pains and my taste buds have returned.
Even better, my hair is starting to come in! It is darker on the sides and in the back and white and very fine on the top. There isn't a lot of it yet, but it is definitely starting to come in. We are going to Hawaii in November so I am hoping to have enough hair by then that I can go without a wig, a hat or a scarf most of the time. I don't know if that will be the case as it is pretty sparse right now, but I certainly hope so. As my kids like to say, I now can feel the wind in my hair.
I tried to have Larry take a picture of my tiny sprouting hairs, but unfortunately they don't show up because they are so light. So until I have enough that I can show it in a picture, just imagine a little duckling, all shiny and new, ready to face the world, with hair standing straight up on top of my head, all white and fuzzy. But imagine the duckling with a smile because at this point, I don't care what the hair looks like as long as it is hair.
Even better, my hair is starting to come in! It is darker on the sides and in the back and white and very fine on the top. There isn't a lot of it yet, but it is definitely starting to come in. We are going to Hawaii in November so I am hoping to have enough hair by then that I can go without a wig, a hat or a scarf most of the time. I don't know if that will be the case as it is pretty sparse right now, but I certainly hope so. As my kids like to say, I now can feel the wind in my hair.
I tried to have Larry take a picture of my tiny sprouting hairs, but unfortunately they don't show up because they are so light. So until I have enough that I can show it in a picture, just imagine a little duckling, all shiny and new, ready to face the world, with hair standing straight up on top of my head, all white and fuzzy. But imagine the duckling with a smile because at this point, I don't care what the hair looks like as long as it is hair.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Kindness of Strangers
Larry ran in the Torchlight Run on Saturday. The girls and I went to cheer him on and to watch the parade. We haven't been to this parade for a couple of years and I had forgotten how many people come out to participate and watch this great Seattle event. We were proud of Larry and the girls were excited to be able to cheer for him as he ran by.
Because Larry was a runner, the girls and I ended up sitting by ourselves amongst the crowd for a couple of hours. We had chairs, food blankets etc to get us through the evening. We found a nice open corner and camped out for the duration.
This was really my first time in a very public place since I have shaved my head. I wear scarves every day when I am out and about and go bare headed when I am at home so sometimes forget that I am bald.
I was shocked and surprised therefore when I was approached by several people. First, in our little corner on the street we were quickly joined by other people. A very nice woman sat next to me with her husband and two teenage daughters. She asked me if I enjoyed being bald in the summer. When I told her I had only been bald for a week, she told me that she was bald 4 years ago when she was going through treatment for breast cancer. She was very gracious and friendly and asked me several questions about my doctors, treatment etc. Her girls were slightly older than mine when she was diagnosed, but it was still helpful to talk to someone who has gone through what I am going through with daughters involved. The best part though was just talking to her about the parade, the weather etc. She was the reminder that I needed that breast cancer patients survive and thrive with very normal, happy lives.
At the beginning of the parade, there were 3 people walking through the crowds taking donations for the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk. They walked past me and just like normal, they looked and looked again. The difference though is that one of them, a man, turned around and came back. He handed me a pink Strength bracelet, smiled, waved and walked away.
As the parade progressed, we started to get crowded in. I soon found a young mom standing over my shoulder with her two young children, trying to see through the crowd. She eventually put her hand on my shoulder and asked if she could intrude by asking about my bald head. When I told her it was breast cancer, she teared up immediately. She said that her younger sister was diagnosed with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma almost 5 years ago and was now 28 and doing great. She talked to me about the horror and pain their family went through watching her sister go through treatment and fight her own battle. She told me that she would keep me in her prayers and was confident that I would beat my cancer, just like her sister has. She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my shoulders and wiped away tears.
I have been very blessed to be the recipient of the kindness of my family and friends, but this is the first time since my diagnosis that I have been witness to the true kindness of strangers.
Because Larry was a runner, the girls and I ended up sitting by ourselves amongst the crowd for a couple of hours. We had chairs, food blankets etc to get us through the evening. We found a nice open corner and camped out for the duration.
This was really my first time in a very public place since I have shaved my head. I wear scarves every day when I am out and about and go bare headed when I am at home so sometimes forget that I am bald.
I was shocked and surprised therefore when I was approached by several people. First, in our little corner on the street we were quickly joined by other people. A very nice woman sat next to me with her husband and two teenage daughters. She asked me if I enjoyed being bald in the summer. When I told her I had only been bald for a week, she told me that she was bald 4 years ago when she was going through treatment for breast cancer. She was very gracious and friendly and asked me several questions about my doctors, treatment etc. Her girls were slightly older than mine when she was diagnosed, but it was still helpful to talk to someone who has gone through what I am going through with daughters involved. The best part though was just talking to her about the parade, the weather etc. She was the reminder that I needed that breast cancer patients survive and thrive with very normal, happy lives.
At the beginning of the parade, there were 3 people walking through the crowds taking donations for the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk. They walked past me and just like normal, they looked and looked again. The difference though is that one of them, a man, turned around and came back. He handed me a pink Strength bracelet, smiled, waved and walked away.
As the parade progressed, we started to get crowded in. I soon found a young mom standing over my shoulder with her two young children, trying to see through the crowd. She eventually put her hand on my shoulder and asked if she could intrude by asking about my bald head. When I told her it was breast cancer, she teared up immediately. She said that her younger sister was diagnosed with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma almost 5 years ago and was now 28 and doing great. She talked to me about the horror and pain their family went through watching her sister go through treatment and fight her own battle. She told me that she would keep me in her prayers and was confident that I would beat my cancer, just like her sister has. She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my shoulders and wiped away tears.
I have been very blessed to be the recipient of the kindness of my family and friends, but this is the first time since my diagnosis that I have been witness to the true kindness of strangers.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Head Shaving Day
I knew that chemo was going to take my hair from me and decided to shave it off before it started falling out. I made an appointment and invited friends to come with me so I wouldn't back out. I had a plan of how to do it and thought that I could make it through without any trauma.
Things are never easy with cancer and this was no different. I spent all day trying to come up with something that I could put in my head that would make it ok for me to shave a perfectly healthy head of hair, some mantra or inspiration. I found nothing that brought me comfort or peace. Michael, the person who was going to be shaving my head had told me that this would be difficult for him as his father also has cancer. In the end, I decided the only thing that was going to get me through was that if Michael could have the strength to shave it for me, I must have the strength to have it done. We were in it together.
He is the right person for me to have chosen for this job. He handled the whole thing with grace and compassion and strength. He allowed me to handle it in a calmer way. He sat me down, my family and friends around me and calmly told me what he was going to do. My husband and my children put their hands in mine, Michael tipped my head forward, asked me if I was ready and began.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and cried as he shaved my hair for me. I was aware of only a couple of things throughout the entire process. I was aware of my family's hands in mine. I was aware of the noise of the clippers and Michael's hand on my head and tears falling down and landing on my hand. It was a much longer process than I had anticipated. Finally, he moved my head backward, shaved off the last of my hair and turned off the clippers. I opened my eyes and cried.
But in that instant, a funny thing happened. I opened my eyes and expected to see a stranger but I didn't. I saw me. It was me looking back from the mirror. I started to relax.
There was a couple of small snafu's with my wig. Michael explained that when it was thinned out, too much was taken out. We also found when he put it on my head without hair, it was way too big for my head. He blow dried and styled my hair but opted not to cut it since it appears I need to take it back and resolve the problems with it.
Though the wig looked beautiful, I realized the longer I had it on, the more I didn't feel like myself. When he was done styling, I removed the wig and put it back in the box. I was more comfortable with my bald head. I took a breath, let my friends and family rub my head and accepted it as it is-beautiful.
I thanked Michael and all of the fabulous friends and family who were kind enough to accompany me on this part of my journey and walked out the door-very bald but comfortable in my skin and ok. Not just ok, but really, truly OK.
I hope you like our new family portrait.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
One Little Angel
I find comfort in being prepared and having some kind of plan so I decided I would go out and look for wigs. I want to have a human hair wig instead of synthetic and wanted to have someone cut it for me so that it is closer to my style.
Human hair wigs are much nicer than I thought they would be. They feel good, they look good and you can style them like you would your own hair. But they are EXPENSIVE! $1600.00-$3200.00 for the ones that I found. I almost fainted on the spot. I did not purchase one and am going to continue to look for other options.
I came home quite discouraged because nothing with cancer is as easy as I would like it to be. I wanted to just go out, find a wig I liked, buy a couple so I would have options and that would be the end of it. But, it was not to be.
Some days are harder than others and yesterday was definitely one of them.
I have always thought that once you have children, you can't ever entertain the idea of not believing in God. They are little miracles and mine bring me more joy than anything else in the world. I am blessed to just have them in my life. So imagine my surprise when Darci (my youngest daughter) tells me that she wants to continue to grow her hair so that she can donate it. Not just to anyone, but to me. She has been trying to grow her hair out for a couple of years. She has beautiful thick brown hair that is just a shade lighter than mine. She came up with this completely on her own and hadn't heard me talk about my discouragement with wigs. I'm stunned....and proud....and more madly in love with my children than ever before.
So, together with my other daughter, we have made a plan. Darci's hair is not quite long enough to donate while still leaving her with a length she will be happy with. I will start losing my hair about 2 weeks after my first round of chemo. I have made an appointment on July 25th to have my head shaved. I will buy a wig to wear for the couple of months that I am going through chemo and then in September, we will cut Darci's hair and take it to this man in Bellevue who makes wigs out of your own (or in this case, your daughter's) hair. I will wear my daughter's hair as mine begins to grow out.
I am amazed and proud of the selfless, beautiful, wonderful girls that I am raising. My little angels!
Human hair wigs are much nicer than I thought they would be. They feel good, they look good and you can style them like you would your own hair. But they are EXPENSIVE! $1600.00-$3200.00 for the ones that I found. I almost fainted on the spot. I did not purchase one and am going to continue to look for other options.
I came home quite discouraged because nothing with cancer is as easy as I would like it to be. I wanted to just go out, find a wig I liked, buy a couple so I would have options and that would be the end of it. But, it was not to be.
Some days are harder than others and yesterday was definitely one of them.
I have always thought that once you have children, you can't ever entertain the idea of not believing in God. They are little miracles and mine bring me more joy than anything else in the world. I am blessed to just have them in my life. So imagine my surprise when Darci (my youngest daughter) tells me that she wants to continue to grow her hair so that she can donate it. Not just to anyone, but to me. She has been trying to grow her hair out for a couple of years. She has beautiful thick brown hair that is just a shade lighter than mine. She came up with this completely on her own and hadn't heard me talk about my discouragement with wigs. I'm stunned....and proud....and more madly in love with my children than ever before.
So, together with my other daughter, we have made a plan. Darci's hair is not quite long enough to donate while still leaving her with a length she will be happy with. I will start losing my hair about 2 weeks after my first round of chemo. I have made an appointment on July 25th to have my head shaved. I will buy a wig to wear for the couple of months that I am going through chemo and then in September, we will cut Darci's hair and take it to this man in Bellevue who makes wigs out of your own (or in this case, your daughter's) hair. I will wear my daughter's hair as mine begins to grow out.
I am amazed and proud of the selfless, beautiful, wonderful girls that I am raising. My little angels!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Anticipating Visibility
This past week has been very quiet. Almost like my life is back to normal. I am recovering from surgery nicely and have had no complications at all. My surgeon is happy with everything and has told me he does not want to see me for another 3 months.
The next step is to see the oncologist. My appointment with her is this Friday morning. I am both excited and nervous to meet her. I am excited because with the surgery I feel like I have started on my path to surviving cancer and I can't continue on that path until I start my treatment plan. I am nervous because this next part of my treatment is the one that is the most frightening.
She is the person that is going to tell me which poisons will be in my body, how often I have to do it and what all the potential complications and side effects will be.
I have decided to be proactive about losing my hair. I am getting my hair cut by several inches next week. I am also going to a new person that I am hoping can give me a great hair cut (probably my last for the year) and can duplicate it on a wig. I would love to be able to say that I will be one of those bold, brave people that just shaves my head and shows a bald head to the world, but I don't know if that is what will happen. It is the single most visible thing about me that will announce to the world that I am a victim of cancer. I have spent my life being relatively invisible-I don't seek the spotlight and never have. Cancer has and will change many things about me. I don't know if accepting the visibility that comes with this disease will be one of them-maybe I will surprise myself.
The next step is to see the oncologist. My appointment with her is this Friday morning. I am both excited and nervous to meet her. I am excited because with the surgery I feel like I have started on my path to surviving cancer and I can't continue on that path until I start my treatment plan. I am nervous because this next part of my treatment is the one that is the most frightening.
She is the person that is going to tell me which poisons will be in my body, how often I have to do it and what all the potential complications and side effects will be.
I have decided to be proactive about losing my hair. I am getting my hair cut by several inches next week. I am also going to a new person that I am hoping can give me a great hair cut (probably my last for the year) and can duplicate it on a wig. I would love to be able to say that I will be one of those bold, brave people that just shaves my head and shows a bald head to the world, but I don't know if that is what will happen. It is the single most visible thing about me that will announce to the world that I am a victim of cancer. I have spent my life being relatively invisible-I don't seek the spotlight and never have. Cancer has and will change many things about me. I don't know if accepting the visibility that comes with this disease will be one of them-maybe I will surprise myself.
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