Tuesday, June 4, 2013


This morning, I woke up, stumbled into the bathroom, ran a hand through my hair to smooth out the bedhead...and came back with a handful of my own hair.

Chemo.  What can you do?

The thing about cancer is that it feel like a series of little losses:  bit by bit by bit by bit, one right after the other but spaced just far enough apart that you can feel them fully, each and every time.  It is insidiously exhausting emotionally, even without all the physical manifestations and side effects from the treatment.

But it is what it is.  You get through it as best you can and keep moving forward, right?

Mercifully, my hairdresser's shop is just across the street from our house, and he worked me in for a G.I. Jane buzz cut this morning.  Holy cow, my hair is short.  But, weirdly, it doesn't look too bad, either.

Take a deep breath with me here.  It will grow back, and I know this to be true.  It is just hair.  I already have my lovely wig that looks just like my own hair BC (before cancer) and a hot pink one for fun and an assortment of scarves and such.  I am as prepared as I could possibly be for this.

Except you cannot really prepare for this. 

Mr. ReddHedd went over to the salon with me for the trim.  He is awesome that way.  We are both just kind of groping our way through this in the dark together, but it is awfully nice to have someone else that I can lean on when I need it and know that they will be there.  Always.

Life is funny.  You peel away the superficial layers when you go through something like this.  It is the things that really, truly matter that stand out the most. 

Family and love is everything.  Hair?  Eh, it will grow back eventually.

(Photo via Benjamin Reed.)


Cheryl B-P said...

Love you Christy!

Anonymous said...

Believe it or not (if this is your first time) the hair ends up being the least of it. It's the most public but it's all the shitty ways chemo has to insidiously screw your body up just as awfully on the inside long after all the hair is gone that becomes the real grind. There's nothing I can say that has any comfort or meaning, other than you're not alone. Four down for me, two to go, and hopefully the only thing that comes back... is the hair.