From having really straight hair when it was super short (ie when my head resembled a cue ball), as my hair grows it’s starting to get a little bit of a wiggle to it. I can’t get it to lie flat like I could and I can’t get it to go spiky either. Some Aussies might say I have boofy hair and I would have to agree. But could that mean that in a few months I might have some curl in my hair? Oh I just can’t imagine how wonderful it will be to see curls again. If I put my hand flat on my head the hair stands up through the fingers quite clearly now… it really is growing despite my feeling like I have been bald forever! Just about one more month and then I can attempt to put my pink back in… oh I’ve missed my pink stripe.
I tip my hat to all the ladies who are wearing chemotherapy wigs in this summer weather… I don’t know how they do it. My head get so hot and sweaty in this heat; imagine wearing a winter hat all day long to cover up the bald head. I was lucky to do chemotherapy in the winter time when it was easy to wear wigs and hats and the like. And I’m so grateful that my church family pitched in to buy me a decent wig. I felt whole with the wig on; like I didn’t have to proclaim my personal battle to everyone around me. Like wearing the wig afforded me some privacy when the cancer journey was new and all too much to deal with. But I wonder if I would have tried to keep the wig on or if I would have thrown caution to the wind and gone about the busy streets with my bald noggin’ in the summer time? I’m guessing I would have gone bald.
I did go bald towards the end of the chemo and I was so sick I just didn’t care anymore. I probably frightened some innocent people in my local supermarket, but honestly, most people didn’t openly stare at me; surprising because I basically looked like death warmed up! I did have one moron who kept snickering behind me just once, but now I look back and feel sorry for that dope. I turned around and proclaimed very loudly, “Yes I have cancer. Deal with it!” To have no compassion for a person so obviously battling cancer and dealing with chemotherapy speaks more about him than my going about shopping for groceries bald speaks about me.
At least, that’s the way I think.