Life update #8:
During the third week of my first round of chemo chemo, the week I felt good, something started to happen. My hair began to fall out. While my body was feeling better, when I ran my fingers through my hair strands of hair start falling out, reminding me again of the rollercoaster that is chemo treatment.
At first it was a couple strands, then chunks. I dreaded going in the shower because I knew the falling hair would clog the drain. But the worst part, hair kept falling into my food. I couldn’t do it anymore.
So, last Sunday, Mike shaved it off. Only my family has seen my shaved head and it has been a bit of a 🤯 to come to terms with. I’m not there, I don’t think I will get there for a while.
I do have a wig. I’ve worn it a couple times. When I’m out in public where no one knows me it’s probably less noticeable. Around familiars I’m constantly wrestling with wearing it, but I don’t want them to see my shaved head either. Talk about your jumpscare! Tomorrow, we have church and I don’t know what to do.
I’m sure you all are going to try and cheer me up. “You look beautiful.” “You have the head shape for it.” “Your hair will grow back.” And all the other positive encouragement things. But if I’m honest, it’s still really hard.
Mike tells me everyday, all-the-time, how beautiful I am. And the other day I had to say, “just stop.” While I’m glad he doesn’t think I look like Shrek (although some would suggest he is a “hear me out” contender), it doesn’t change the fact that this just plain sucks. I don’t feel like me already and then looking in the mirror is a constant reminder that I will never go back to who I was before all of this started. All stuff I have to process on my own time.
But let’s end on a positive, the side effects this time around have been way less of a struggle. I was leaving the house after 7 days instead of 14. Whoo hoo!
