Hair today....gone tomorrow

The Big Shave

A few days before Christmas Day my scalp had started to become sore and tender when it was touched and started to feel like someone was sticking lots of tiny pins or thin needles into my scalp. It was an odd feeling and at times I feel like I would benefit from taking some paracetamols although I never did. Having read about the effects of chemotherapy on body hair prior to starting, I knew this meant that my hair follicles were about ready to start releasing my hair shaft from the follicles. On the 23^rd December I was sat in bed at night reading when I ran my hand through my hair, a habit that I’ve had for years when reading, I think it’s called fidgeting! As I ran my hand through my hair, I looked down and saw that I had around 15-20 strands of hair laid over my fingers. I put them on the quilt cover and ran my hand through my hair once again. Needless to say there were a similar number of hairs in my hand. I turned to Gary and said that now was the time to shave my hair off. Gary convinced me to wait until the following day, Christmas Eve of all days, to shave it off rather than going to bed straight away with a shaved head. The thought of falling asleep and then waking up with all my hair on my pillow was simply frightening. That would’ve quite simply freaked me out and upset me. It would’ve made me feel like a stereotypical cancer patient – bald. So I decided if I wasn’t to shave it that evening, then there was only one thing for it, I would sleep in one of my new sleep caps so that if my hair did start to come loose, then it would be inside the sleep cap and not on my pillow. And that’s what I did.

I awoke the next morning on Christmas Eve and asked Gary if he would mind shaving my head and I remember him asking me if I was sure. I knew it would be difficult for him to do and my friend Michala who is a hairdresser had offered to do it for me but Gary was adamant he would do it.

So we pulled out the chair and Gary set the hair clippers to 10mm and with a deep intake of breath from both of us, Gary commenced shaving my hair. I remember the vibration of the clippers buzzing across my head, it was an odd sensation and then I started to see my hair falling into my lap. It is a moment I will never forget. I thought I would be upset but to be honest and I still find this a little hard to admit, I actually felt a sense of relief and calmness. There was no getting away from the harsh realities that the chemotherapy regime I was on (Epirubicin and Cyclophosphamide) would cause hairloss, it was inevitable but, I still wanted to be in control of when that hairloss fully happened. I wanted to claim that part of myself back from the cancerous tumour that had been multiplying in my left breast.

As the clippers stopped buzzing, I ran my right hand across my newly shaved head. It was an odd moment – I couldn't ever consciously recall a moment in my life when my hair had been cut so short. I remember getting up and turning around to see tears in Gary's eyes. It had been a difficult task for him to do and he had done it because he loved me. I will always appreciate that. He's a fab guy.

I was keen to see what my newly shaved head looked like, I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid the mirrors in the house for very long. So I walked over to the hallway and peered into the large mirror from one side, slowly edging my way until I could see my full reflection in the mirror. Was I shocked? No, not as much as I thought I would be. I guess gradually cutting my hair shorter and shorter had helped with that shock. Had I gone from shoulder length hair to hair that was 10mm long, then yes, it would've been a massive shock. I do remember however, thinking that I now looked like my brother albeit I didn't have the ginger hair!

I was keen to send a photo to my family and friends to tell them that I'd finally cut my hair but I wasn't quite ready to show them my face and the haircut, that may seem odd but I guess I wasn't quite ready for that expression to the world yet. So I took a photo of Gary and I in the mirror with the phone masking our faces to show that we now had matching haircuts and this is the result....

I also put the photograph on my social media pages and the response was over whelming!  I had people from all over the world commenting, especially on twitter and it was lovely to get such positive feedback in what I felt was a negative situation. 

I swept up all the hair that had been cut and placed in into a ziplock sandwich bag so I could keep it. It was to be my reminder to myself of what my hair had looked and felt like prior to losing it all to chemotherapy. I know some may find that odd but for me, it did help me through the times when I would eventually end up with the chemotherapy induced bald head.

I placed the bag in my bedside cabinet lower drawer along with all my hair equipment – brush, hairdryer etc. and on those dark days when I felt that chemotherapy had taken so much of my identity away, I would go and open that bag and have a feel of my “hair” and it would make me feel better about myself.

One of the plus points to shaving my hair was that within 24 to 48hrs my scalp was nowhere near as sore and tender as it had been so I guess the weight of the hair on the follicles had been playing a big part in the pain.

Now that my hair was shaved, it was time to bring out the wigs. The wigs would help me to put a “business as usual” face to the outside world. The wigs would allow me to feel “normal” and to blend in, not stand out. I didn't want to stand out, I wanted to just blend in with the crowd if I was out and about.