The one phrase you hear a lot is “it’s a personal decision.” There is no “right” way. There are medically suggestive routes and there are decisions that I have to be willing to live with. Some of those decisions give a whole new meaning to “live with.”
I’m skipping over several days worth of updates, but what’s triggered this post is HAIR. It’s not my clinical trial vs traditional route for chemo. It’s not lumpectomy vs mastectomy. It’s not do I get a second opinion or not. It comes down to hair.
You hear about how hair can be a part of your identity. Stars in roles for long periods of time are told not to change their hair. I’ve seen women cry on America’s Next Top Model when they went through their makeover and had to have their hair cut or drastically changed. Our society frowns upon bald women and men, but are more acceptable of bald men since it happens more often with them; however, if we were completely accepting of it, there wouldn’t be so many hair loss products for men AND women. Men and women cut, style, dye, and highlight their hair to “look their best.” Sure, some cuts and styles may be a personal/functional aspect, but still.
When I found out I was going to do chemo, I wasn’t surprised, but then I started thinking about my hair and going bald. Chris was all, “We’ll buy you wigs and play with styles and colors.” I figured I have enough baseball caps that at least I’ll have an excuse to wear them. However, I had heard about cold capping from the FB groups.
Cold capping are caps you wear a little before, completely during, and a little after chemo. The idea is that these caps are cooled to temperatures in the double digit negative degrees and will help shrink the blood vessels to your hair. The shrinking will prevent chemo from reaching your fair follicles and, therefore, saving your hair. The unfortunate thing is not everyone saves their hair (proper usage, types of chemo, health of hair) and some people get patchy baldness (usually improper usage). I HAVE heard/seen women in the FB groups who have saved their hair (they often say they save about 70-80% of their hair, that it thins rather than all comes out). There are frozen caps (they get frozen and you switch them out) or mechanically cooled caps (electric so coolant is pumped through it to keep a more even temperature throughout the head). The mechanic ones are considered the better ones (simply for the even temperature without switching). I looked up the cost of one frozen cold cap company and it’s about $370/month and a deposit.
This is that moment where you weigh what your hair means to you personally. I’ve decided hair falls into 3 types of categories: vanity, normalcy, comfort.
Vanity: My hair is my favorite feature. I don’t do fancy hair cuts, dye, or highlights, but I have thick, healthy hair that’s a color that isn’t flat or boring. We’re all vain enough to want to have our hair looking somewhat nice at some point (yes, some of us hair care more than others).
Normalcy: Society says that women have (should have) hair so people don’t bat an eye when you have hair. It’s normal. Having hair is normal for me. I’ve never NOT had hair. People don’t think twice when they see me because I have hair. I don’t look at myself in the mirror differently with hair.
Comfort: This is a little like normalcy, but it’s different. I’ve found some people “hide” behind their hair. It’s not so much the normalcy factor, but also the comfort of the norm. I’ve heard parents of young children appreciated having their hair because they looked less sick to their kids. This comforted those around them that they’re not as sick as they seem.
So where am I?
Vanity: My favorite feature, but, really, you also have to think the other side...Will I look good bald? Some people look good bald. Some don’t. Is my head weirdly shaped underneath the hair? In the end, I found that this isn’t as big of a deal to me as it’s a little more curiosity than “worry”.
Comfort: Not really an issue for me since I don’t have kids and it’s really Chris who will see me regularly. He’ll be so involved in caregiving for me that it’s really not even a problem because I know he’ll already be overboard on making sure I’m okay whether I look terrible or not. :)
Normalcy: THIS is my spot. I can work from home and be fine being bald. I could see people who know I’m going through chemo and be fine with it, but STRANGERS or employees who don’t know who see me bald? Nope. It’s not normal, which then people will probably look and try to guess why and then it might be questions or looks. This is what I have the biggest issues with. It’s not that I truly care what they think of me (that would be more vanity, right?), but it feels like letting strangers see a super personal part of my life out in the open. That’s what I don’t like. Now will people really care? Probably not. Will they even really think about me in 30 seconds? Probably not. I still don’t like it.
Now it’s weighing how much “normalcy” vs cost means to me. Turns out, looking at $1200-$2000 to have a chance to save my hair is not worth it to me. That money can go to medical expenses or a future trip. I’m already not liking how much I’m spending on my medical bills and those are to save my life! Can’t justify the cost for my hair that will grow back...eventually...Ugh. (I wonder if I’ll get chemo curls? Oftentimes your first set of hair grows in super curly. Let’s hope I haven’t grayed, though haha)
Yes, I can do wigs. I’ve heard varying things about wigs from other breast cancer survivors. Yes, I can wear hats. But that’s not the same thing! It requires effort that, as many of you might know, I am lazy. Haha There’s a reason I get my hair cut 2-3 times a year and don’t wear make-up. A wig seems like effort...Course, I try to think of it as also “fun.” Hey, I’ve always wanted to try “this style.” I also might get to a point where I just don’t care, but I also live in a relatively cool place so I suspect hats will be a must to keep my head warm (bald men, I will be able to commiserate with you!).
Despite my decision to go bald (I keep trying to tell as many people so I can come to terms with going bald), it’s kind of funny that it feels like one of the “hardest” decisions I’ve had to make. The least consequential decision to my life moving forward was the hardest. Go figure.
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