I submitted an application to compete in the Food Network show Chopped. Just kidding (I could only wish of being able to make noodles from rubber bands and it tasting good). But actually, I chopped my hair off. No matter how much I want to deny it and pretend like it’s not happening, my hair is thinning. Washing and combing my hair have become public enemy no. 1, so I try and avoid those things at all cost. For real, you could use the amount of hair that comes out with one brush to knit a blanket. My mom was cleaning out my garbage the other day and PICKED UP all of the hair I threw out and asked me if we should make a wig out of it. 1) Mom, I don’t think it works that way and 2) if I’m getting a wig you best believe it’s gonna be fancy as hell.
The salon I go to (shout out to Viva Glam!!!) is having a fundraiser next week for people to come in and donate their hair. I’m honestly not sure how much hair I’ll have left by then, so I decided to push up the fundraiser a couple days early. I’d rather see my hair get chopped off all at once and go to someone in a similar situation than to see it caught in the drain or in the garbage can, or my mom’s hands for that matter. Besides, hair in the drain is disgusting and I nearly vomit every time I have to clean it out, so I can do without that.
This wasn’t an easy decision. My hair is everything to me (and since I’ve been shedding like a shitzhu, Michelle Branch would say it’s also everywhere to me). I love my naturally wavy hair (despite all the times I’ve said I hate it, I’m sorry hair), I can wear it straight or curly, and throw it in a bun when I’m having a bad hur day. Plus my hair dresser says that people pay hundreds of dollars a year to get my hair color that is au naturale. That is the ultimate compliment.
But, my doctor was blunt with me. She told me that at about two weeks after my first treatment, I’d probably notice hair loss. It was less than two weeks for me. Things kind of hit me in that moment. This was real. The effects of chemo are real. This cancer is real. Just another reason why Hodgkin’s is the Craigslist roommate from hell. He cuts your hair off while you’re sleeping.
I think I got my hopes up when I spent a little too much time googling hair loss with ABVD (my chemo drugs) and saw that only 70 percent of people lose their hair. Damn Google and damn being in that 30 percent.
After crying in the shower a couple of times, buying a new hair brush that I thought would be more gentle, and researching ways to stimulate hair growth (head massage was not one of them :/), I decided to take a leap of faith. It’s only hair, right? It grow back, right?! RIGHT?! Can you tell I’m freaking out. Besides, I’m not shaving it all off (yet). So, if (it’s more of a when at this point, I think) it ever comes the time to do that, I hope that taking this step of getting it cut will ease me into becoming a bald headed eagle. How patriotic of me.
So here I am. Twelve inches less of hair on my head and a literal and figurative weight has been lifted off my shoulders. At first, I thought I looked like the Berries and Cream boy and had a minor panic attack. But now I’m kinda into it. Plus, some chick out there gets a wig now. What goes around comes around people.
Enjoy the freakin’ weekend!!!!