It’s been an awful day, to say the least. I found myself wanting to write to organize my thoughts & to remember this moment some day when I look back on this journey. I also found myself not wanting to write though, to protect you all from what days like these feel like. It’s dark. But you’ve been with me this far, I’ll let you in!
The rational side of my brain says it’s just hair. It’ll grow back. You’ve been through so much worse, just look at the scars on your body. It’s not who you are. It’s not what makes you, you. I know all of that and I conceptually get it.
And yet I’d compare today to that of what that Monday when I was first diagnosed with all of this felt like. To what that day I had surgery and woke up to my new reality felt like. Maybe even worse really. When my hair hit that ground today, it’s as if the reality of all of this hit me at a million miles per hour. It’s as if the loss of my hair made the reality of cancer unavoidable any longer. I felt like I got punched in my gut to be honest. You’d think the daily hospital visits or the first round of chemo would’ve made it real, but it didn’t. This did. As I drove home, I was listening to that song Held that I wrote about. One of the lines is, “how it feels to have the sacred torn from your life, and you survive…” Pretty on par for my life right now, right? Cancer is no joke but cancer didn’t just take my hair, it took my daughter from me and I think that hit me more than anything today. I felt this new ache I haven’t felt before that I can’t explain. I think I’m processing for the first time that because of cancer, I will never hold my daughter. It’s so unfair. It is so wrong. It feels so extreme. It sucks. It makes me angry! And so, so sad. My hair is now the public sign to the world of all that I’ve lost. There’s no hiding from this anymore. But it just all seems so unbelievable still. How did this become my story?
To all of you who texted today, thank you. I have had trouble finding the words to respond but your encouragement means everything. It is needed, it’s felt & I appreciate it so much.
A huge thank you to our dear friend Mrs. King who had to shave my head today. Talk about the short end of the stick for her and yet she handled it all & me so gracefully. 10 minutes before my appointment at the cancer center, they called to tell me their lady ‘called in sick.’ How terrible is that? But it all worked out for the best. Mrs. King is the best. She knew to not even turn my chair to the mirror once. She gave me the biggest hug and said just the right things. I will always remember her compassion on this day!
I haven’t looked in the mirror yet. I will. I am thankful it’s over with. It became impossible to lift a brush to my head knowing what I’d look down at. My hair became so thin and patchy, it was gross. I slept in a winter hat last night to not have to wake up to a depressing pillow. Once I clean my bathroom floor, this will be a stage over. That’s a big win for me over cancer, even though the day as a whole feels like a loss.
This too shall pass. My rational brain will kick in. My humor will find its way in dealing with this. Apple will release a bald emoji because it’s the least they can do. I will not let cancer win this battle (or the war). I know all of this to be true. But for today, cancer SUCKS.