Hair Today.... Gone Tomorrow....

Hair....  A woman's crowning glory.  Long, short, black, brown, blonde, red.  No matter what style, it is how women, more times than not, define part of their being.  In its definition -  A protein filament that grows from follicles found in the dermis. Hair is one of the defining characteristics of mammals. Attitudes towards different forms of hair, such as hairstyles and hair removal, vary widely across different cultures and historical periods, but it is often used to indicate a person's personal beliefs or social position, such as their age, sex, or religion.


All of my life I have had a civil war with my hair.  Growing up I hated every single piece of it on my head.  Number one, it was red.  Number two, it was unruly and as naturally curly as a poodle's. The irony in this is that both my mom and dad have dark hair and dark eyes.  Both my sister and I have red hair.  My eyes, hazel; my sister's blue.  Genetics are a funny thing, or maybe not so much these days (thanks a lot BRCA2).   Grade school children are cruel, as we all know.  Hell I was cruel I'm sure at some point.  Probably just retaliating for the cruelty imposed onto me by mean little children who didn't understand why my hair was red, when everyone else's was brown, black, or a few of the blessed girls I was always envious of, blonde.  Growing up red headed brought much teasing and name calling.  My favorites... red headed woodpecker, Pipi Longstocking, and carrot top.  Add the fact that it was also so curly there wasn't much you could do with it, except just let it do it's thang, well you can see why I hated it so!  

Back in those days there were no Chi straighteners for those unruly curls, so you just sucked it up and tried to figure out what the hell to do with it.  I hate to admit this as it sounds so ridiculous, but my go to style move was to wet it down and place a baseball cap on my head as tight as possible and when it was dry, well at least the top of my head was semi-straightened out by the pressure of the cap.  LOL  Ridiculous!!!  Also back then parents did not run their middle school girls to the "salon" to get a dye job or to get it chemically straightened.  Maybe some of the "rich" girls got this special treatment, but for me, and I believe most of my friends, we got our hair cut at the local barber shop.  And you just dealt with, as best as you could, what God gave ya! 

When I got old enough to start experimenting on my own with the few styling tools available to us back in the "olden days" I tried everything! Curling iron, which fried the already dry coarse hair; hot curlers, which actually were great life savers during my high school years in the 80's.  I had the biggest hair in my class probably.  You take extremely long, naturally curly hair and wrap it up tight in heated curlers then spray the shit out of it with Aqua Net while holding each piece out and using the blow dryer on it, well you get the picture... the biggest most awesome 80's hair EVER!  LOL   I begged weekly for my mother to let me go to the salon to straighten it.  And always the same answer.  "As long as you live under our roof we will not pay to have that beautiful hair straightened".  LOL 

Well I showed them! haha.  I moved out at age 19 and got married and one of my first things I did was hit the salon and straightened my hair.  I chemically straightened my hair for probably close to 5 years or more.  Then the Chi hair straightener was invented and I was in heaven.  I could go curly or straighten my hair on any given day.  By this time I had accepted the curls and some days I even kinda liked them a little.  It was definitely easy to get ready.  Wash and go and instant style.  

I then moved on to my next phase, which was my grade school envy, and I dyed my hair blonde for probably another 6 years or so.  Pretty sure the old saying blondes have more fun is true, because man I had some fun during those years LOL! 

A few years ago I decided I had damaged my poor hair enough.  It was broken and dingy, so I decided to go back to the red, curly hair I was born with.  These days it comes in a little grey, but the roots get painted my natural color.  I had let my hair grow and I finally felt like I had come into myself and my hair.  It was beautiful and I was loving it.  So of course my voo doo doll holder realized I was happy with something and decided it was time to take that away from me too.  BTW there's still a reward out for Mr. Voo Doo.  LOL

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in December 2017, I was devastated over the thought that I was going to lose my hair due to chemo.  But after all of my surgeries and pathology reports it was determined that I did not have to have chemo.  I'm serious ya'll I cried all the way home from the doctor's office that day and probably for an hour after.  Tears of joy.  I was not going to have to have chemo and was not going to lose my hair.  

When I found out my cancer was back I knew I was headed for the chemo chair this time.  Which meant I was going to lose my beautiful, long, red, curly hair.  Isn't it funny that I spent so many years hating the exact hair that I am now crying daily over the thought of losing.  Craziness!!  Rumor has it that most people lose their hair on this type of chemo right around day 12-14 after the first infusion. So the day before my first infusion I left the house with an intention of cutting it off, I just didn't know where.  I drove around aimlessly and since it was a Sunday, I knew my choices would be limited, but I felt the urge and needed to do it while I had the balls.  I ended up in the mall at JC Penny.  Why, I do not know, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't by accident.  I walked up to the desk and the man was helping another girl but said I'll be right there. He turned around and asked me what I was needing.  I immediately started sobbing ya'll.  Me, sobbing in public to a guy I've never met.  He looked like "oh shit, I'm getting a nut job".  LOL  I then explained to him I would be starting chemo tomorrow and I have to cut my hair so it won't be so devastating for it to all fall out because it was so long.  This amazing kind man, who's name is Ray, took me into the salon.  To the back chair where I would feel comfortable crying, and said "everything is going to be okay, I'm going to take care of you".  He talked to me and calmed me and even made me laugh a few times through my tears as he cut off most of my beautiful long hair. He braided it first and then cut the braids first.  I decided I would keep them as a reminder of my strength on this day.  I truly believe Ray was put in my path that day to help me get through what needed to be done, with kindness and such compassion I feel truly blessed to have met him.

Today I am sitting on day 12 from my first infusion.  I took a shower and was terrified to wash my hair for fear it would all fall out when I touched it.  But so far so good.  But I know that any day it is going to happen.  Day 13, I decided to go see my buddy Ray again and cut A LOT more off.  Him and I talked and gossiped and bonded as if we were old friends and I didn't even cry once this time!!  I still believe this amazing man was put in my path for a reason.  Pretty sure I've made a friend for life! And while I hate this new look, I know it is what had to be done to alleviate the inevitable, and when it starts coming out in chunks, it will lessen the freak out a little bit.



Today, day 16....  I ran my hand through what is left of my hair this morning and it is starting to come out by the handfuls.  I am terrified to shower this morning, knowing what is coming.  I know I am going to cry like a baby. But I'm as prepared as I can be.  I  have my wigs, my hats, and my inner strength to once again push me past this next emotional hurdle.  

One thing I do know for sure, when it comes back in and starts to grow, I don't care if it is straight or curly; brown, black, red or purple, I will NEVER complain about my hair again.  I will be grateful that I have it and pray that this awful shit stays away for good this time and I get to keep my hair forever this time.   Love what God gave you.  You never know when something you thought you hated will become something you will become devastated to lose!