Hair (Part ii)

OK, this is how fucked up it is to be a human being.

As I believe I made clear, I was totally and completely unhappy about the hair thing.  After I wrote that blog I went to a yoga class (very poignant on many levels), and while there I ran into the woman who has been "navigating" me through this all, a person from the hospital who is paid to help people like me make it through this thing.

She's amazing, and sweet, and has been through it herself.  And when I ran into her at the yoga studio, I told her about the hair falling out situation and she said I've gotta do the deed, like, now.  She immediately used my phone to call the appearance center at the hospital and made me an appointment for an hour later.  She explained to me that they will shave my head and do it right and help me with all my questions and it just has to get done.

So I ran home, Roger cancelled his afternoon client, and we went up there.

The woman there talked me through the whole thing.  How she'll shave it very close but the little stubble will eventually fall out as well.  The follicles will go dormant and I'll be chrome dome pretty much through the end of the chemo.  Then it will start growing back, somewhat tormented at first, but eventually it will find its strength and get all better.  The chances are good that I will still be brown and not come out fully white, and we all agreed that there are many people in the world who can help me with gray hair if it becomes an issue.

I sat there in the chair just wanting to get it over with, and wanting with all my might not to have it be happening, and... eventually... she turned me away from the mirror and started at it.

I made some joke about not having my head shaved since 'Nam, and Roger watched, and I felt the razor against my scalp.... and... all of it fell away.

And as it fell away I felt, kind of, better?  Sort of?  Like, FUCK, finally this was happening and I'll never have to anticipate it ever again.  And, seriously, the hair had been bugging me as well.  It was hanging heavily and kind of sticking to my neck and making me sweat.  And as it fell away I felt, yes, better.

Finally she was done.  She said I have a beautiful head and, whether she says that to everyone or not, I decided to take what I could get.  And then she spun me around. 

And who was looking back at me in the mirror?  My father!  And my brother!  And it was so... GOOD to see them both.  She says almost everyone says the same thing, which I find fascinating.  But I was looking at my dad for the first time in 14 years, and I was looking at my sons, and I was, looking at myself as well and even though I didn't look exceptionally happy.  I did look very, well, fine.

It was OK.

And then we played with scarves and wigs and hats, and I tried on this brunette wig that my guardian angel unseen friend had left on my doorstep the day before, and threw my new hat on top of it... and I looked pretty damn good.  Actually, pretty damn better, to tell you the truth.

And ever since then, I've been having a blast with it.  I'm getting all girly and learning how to tie scarves and accessorize.  My son's best friend gave me a bad ass tiger bandana and I walk around feeling, actually, really good about myself.  Earrings look good without all that hair around, and MAN, it's, like, literally so very cool to walk around without any hair, especially in the heat.  It feels kind of great.

So, I'm just so amazed and confounded at how this works.  I was dreading this.  And I knew there was a slight chance it would pan out to be better than my exceptions.  Actually, on a philosophical level I knew there was a great chance it would be OK... but this has turned out WAY better than I'd imagined.  Like, to the extent that I'm thinking I could actually do this again voluntarily.  I mean, I've had haircuts I've hated a hundred times worse than this thing. It's the ultimate low maintenance 'do, and with all these scarves and hats around, it's actually kind of girly girl fun. (True fact: I went to the Ahmanson the other night as a BLONDE, if you can believe it, and actually had a thought while people-watching that I felt sorry for all these people who had to deal with all their hair.)

That's how fucked up it is to be a human being.  We are totally our own little suffering factories, and if we could just wait until something actually HAPPENS before we decide how good or bad it is going to be... well, we could probably get a lot more done, and sleep better, and be nicer to our children and spouses.