Too Much Hair

I am back from vacation. But tired. Super tired. So this may be short. But...it's at least an original post and not a repeat. It is however about hair. I'm stuck in a hair rut.

There was a time when I couldn't quite figure out why hair--or more specifically the loss of hair--seemed to be such an overwhelmingly big aspect of this whole cancer thing. Compared with, oh, let's just say, um...the potential loss of life, it seems that losing one's hair temporarily, while not fun or easy, is not the worst aspect of the cancer experience. Yet it certainly seems to be the one most discussed and the one that others (i.e. "other" than the cancer patient) seem to obsess over. I could have paid all my out of pocket medical expenses, if only I had a dollar for every time someone not diagnosed with cancer told me they didn't know what they would do if they lost their hair, or that they would be "really unattractive" without hair, or some such thing. And honestly, it didn't bother me that much when it happened. The thought of chemo (and stay with me here folks, the chemo happens first...then the hair loss) and all it's potential side effects stressed me out a bit more and by the time the hair loss occurred I was ready for that and eventually when the chemo fatigue set in (conveniently, right about with the hair loss) I was happy to have the extra time in the morning (no shaving, no shampooing, no blow drying, no styling and eventually, no mascara necessary).

But that was then. I'm all better now. I have my energy back. I've returned to the regular programming of my life. I'm back at work and my new associate started today, so we're really ready to go all out full speed ahead. And I miss my hair.

I've given up the wigs and the scarves for good and I have enough hair to do that without drawing stares everywhere I go. And as a friend said of my hair "It's a look. It's a style. It's not your look or your style, but it's a look." Which is true--whether it's a lesbian chic look or a "just back from a spiritual retreat in Sedona, how do you like my new beads and isn't it a shame about the rain forest?" look--it is indeed a look. But it's not me. And that's starting to bug me. It's my last reminder of my "cancer patient" status (hey, I don't really notice the scar at "right breast 10 o'clock" and I guarantee you strangers aren't noticing it! Oh, okay, I have the weird foot neuropathy thing but that comes and goes and in the right shoes, no one notices.). Yeah, yeah, I know--the whole odyssey was only 7 months and it was only been a few weeks since treatment ended, but hey, I'd like my hair back now!

Part of this is coming from that fact that I was at an estate planning conference in Chicago and felt a little "off my game" dealing with so many other lawyers (a competitive lot, to say the least). I felt just slightly odd and I do believe I was perceived differently by others. Two sociological findings (or maybe it's the same one?) that are probably not surprising: a nearly 6 ft tall blonde woman in a suit and heels is not easily over-looked or ignored in a still primarily male dominated field; turns out that same nearly 6 ft tall, no longer blonde, nearly hairless woman in comfortable flat shoes (to accomodate her swollen feet) is quite easily overlooked. Although, that was mostly my experience with men. Women were actually warmer than they usually are to me-- although for the most part, that's not the other lawyers--that's the exhibitors and staff for the conference. I won two different "raffles" (you know how the exhibitors at conferences always raffle off things to get you to leave a business card? Yeah, those.) I'm convinced the raffles were not at all random. They liked me because I talked to them (and I talked to them because they talked to me...it's all very meta) and in one case "the cancer" came up and voila' I was the raffle winner! (yeah, I know, I should have gone to every table and used the cancer card. My suitcase wasn't that big. And airlines charge by the pound now.)

Another part of this is coming, I'm sure, from the fact that I met several of Chris's really nice, really accomplished friends in Chicago. And since they are his friends from college (read: Princeton, so we're all clear on where I'm going with this) they are way younger than me. So I was feeling a little...um...well...let's just say old, stupid and ugly. Not for long (the old and stupid part anyway) though, because they are very nice and interesting and not at all judgmental (and, well, bright enough to understand the whole cancer thing). But again, the hair thing bugged me. I would just prefer not to look odd. Especially when meeting people who don't know me any other way.

I actually had a dream last night that I had hair. Not a dream in which I appeared with hair, but a dream wherein Dream Teresa realized that her hair had suddenly grown to shoulder length and was blonde again. Dream Teresa then realized she needed to style it or cut it or do something with it. Dream Teresa then ran about (outdoors mostly, because dreams can't ever make sense right?) trying to find the appropriate styling tools. That part of the dream was much like the "I have a test and I can't find the classroom I'm supposed to be in" dream that we over-achieving geeky folks who looooved school have. Eventually Dream Teresa settled on foaming up an entire can of mousse and lathering that into her hair (a sign that real life Teresa has watched Chris struggle with controlling that massive tsunami of hair of his one too many times).

I warned you--I'm in a hair rut. Or maybe this was a hair-rant. Either way, it's over for now. Must get sleep.

The photo is to let you know a) what the hair "look" is currently (and oh yeah, I threw in some artsy bead jewelry), and b) that my vacation was enjoyable and I did get to spend time with the Missouri branch of my family. That's my younger brother Jay and his son Lucas in the photo. Because when else will the 3 of us have matching hairdos?

PS: a note about "potential side effects" of chemo. Read the "potential side effects" of aspirin. Or cold medicine. Scary stuff. And yet you still take those things. Okay, so the side effects warnings for chemo are a bit more extensive, but it's the same basic premise--the effects are potential and each of the effects have happened to someone. But they don't all happen to everyone on chemo. And they don't all happen at the same time. And many of them never happen to many people. (That was just for anyone--D-- reading this who might currently be contemplating the side effects of chemo. ;-) )

Just How Long Does it Take??

I seem to be on a roll with freaky pictures. So be warned. These next ones (after this first one) aren't pretty either. And unlike the last few, they actually are of me.

See, sometimes when I'm online looking for photos and information for the blog I find myself surfing around and learning things I didn't even realize I wanted to know...or I did, but I never took the time to find out until I sat down to post to this meandering and wordy blog. Last night I eventually began looking for information on just when hair starts to grow back post-chemo. Here's a shock...there's not much info out there. Just the standard "it's different for everyone" response (trust me when I tell you that everyone who goes through cancer treatment learns to hate that phrase; it's the doctor's equivalent of the lawyer's "it depends." Both are true statements and both are entirely unhelpful.) Then of course I ran across some postings and inquiries on websites from women whose hair never grew back or did but it was really sparse!! That's when it was time to get off the internet (and curl up in a bottle of wine....). From what I gather, the "norm" is for hair to start growing back 4 weeks to 3 months after chemo stops. My last chemo was April 30th. So as of today (May 30th) I'm one month out--or to be precise, I'm 4 weeks and 2 days. And here's what my head looks like from the back:
The hair you see is not growth. Those are the little troopers that never fell out. There are actually more than you can see in this photo, it's just that they're blonde so they're a lot harder to photograph. Another interesting little fact--I never found a photo of another bald chemo patient who didn't also have that little rash looking spot at the bottom center. I suspect that's from the wigs.

And yes, you guessed it, I'm going to document the hair growth and see just how long this really does take. Now, it won't be as fascinating as Chris's hair growth but let's be real, he's a genetic freak in that regard. Mine is more a contribution to science. Right now, I'm thinking it will be the Saturday night (or Sunday morning) post each week. Oh, and it's not a hair watch without the eyelash/eyebrow close-ups (gory though they are). Did I mention my eyebrows fell out shortly after the eyelashes? Not all the way, but again, just enough to make me look freaky. Here's what I mean:

Okay, that's with no make-up, so you can tell several things besides the fact that I have like 6 eyebrow hairs and no eyelashes (actually I have two,but you can't see them in this photo). You can also tell I seriously require foundation, I'm tired enough to have dark circles, and yes, see, my eyes are a really, really, really dark blue but they are in fact blue. Also, I have eyelash stubble now. It ain't much, but it does seem to indicate they are coming back in. Fascinating, no? Chris and I both think maybe I have head stubble, but it's hard to tell if that's new growth or just those little warrior hairs. And in keeping with that...apparently my nose hair also fell out. It never occurred to me to check that or that such might happen. Because, um...who cares? But yeah, last night I read where somebody else was complaining about that. So of course I had to check, and yep, it's true. You lose that too! (By the way, the same person who complained about losing nose hair also lost her fingernails!! That is a possible side effect...just not one that happened to me; I know, I know, you thought I had them all. Trust me, I didn't.)

Now that you've seen this, is it any wonder that when I get ready for work in the morning I feel like I'm putting on a costume? First I take a shower--where there isn't much to wash, nothing to shave, and I can only use "mild" soap (because of radiation)--then when I step out there is almost nothing to dry, then I have to paint myself a face, then draw in some eyes and eyebrows, if it's an extra special occasion I need to glue on some eyelashes, then I must find shoes that my swollen and painful feet will fit in, then an outfit that coordinates with said shoes (and if it's a radiation day, the top and bottom must be separate since the top comes off; so no dresses), then find hair or a scarf that matches all the rest. Oh, and then it all melts off during the hot flashes anyway. Cancer Dork is quickly becoming Cancer Clown.

Again, as your reward for reading this far, I have saved the happy part for last. Today I had my first mani/ pedi since all this crap started. Wow did it feel good to sit in that massage chair soaking my feet in the hot, bubbling water and then let them work away getting my hands and feet in summer shape. And despite the fact that my left foot is still having trouble and tends to swell oddly, my hands and feet look so pretty! Which is good, considering how the rest of me looks....

Hair Sharing (a.k.a. Growin' It Out For Cancer, Month 2)

Back by popular demand...

So for those of you who have been clamoring at Teresa and pestering her about my posts and why I'm not writing more here and where are the posts about my hair, I thank you. Clearly I'm the break-out star on this blog (eat it, Seamus and Dr. Karam) and it's nice to know that I already have a built in fanbase before I ditch this low-rent scene like Clooney on "ER," Timberlake and 'Nsync, or Sting and The Police (if you can think of a better analogy for a member of a music group/TV ensemble who split from it and then went off to an even more lucrative solo career, please let me know in the Comments section so I can fuel my own ego) and head off on my own exceptionally successful solo blogging career (more on that later)...

But now, what you've all been waiting for: it's been exactly 31 days since I got my haircut for the final time in 2009, so it's time for another Growin' It Out for Cancer update. It's hard to tell from the picture up and to the left--since Teresa did such a crummy job taking it. What, you think I stop harping on her and cut her some slack just because she has cancer? Please--but my hair has grown almost 3/4 of an inch in the past month, slightly above the human average of a 1/2 inch per month. So while it's still lush and manageable, it is starting to develop into its classic pompadour mould. The front and profile shots better demonstrate this phenomenon:


Goddamn, I'm a handsome man. So as you can see, we're starting to get some layer differentiation between the top and the side along the part, and my primary back cowlick is doing its spiky, stand-uppy thing it always does. There hasn't been much growth on the sideburn (probably because I shaved today) and the back is juuuuuuust starting to brush up against the collar. It still looks short from afar, but it's starting to bulk up. When you run your fingers through it (ladies, just use your imagination), you can feel the hair pulling against your fingers. Not because it's unwieldy, but because of the bulk of the growing follicals.

So that's the update for this month. I expect we'll see some radical change next month when we get another 1/2 - 3/4 of an inch of length added on, the top starts to mushroom, and the back corners began to thicken like kudzu and drift down over the collar. I still won't look like a hippie just yet, but I'd probably get kicked out of the military with this particular style (well okay, maybe not the Air Force).

Anyway, that's the update. Continue to remain enthralled and send Teresa all of your feedback positive and negative (but mostly positive) through the Comment section below.

See you next month!
Chris

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Okay, back to me--this is Teresa again. Here to defend myself. Ah forget it. The picture didn't really serve its purpose, so I did mess up but it's not like you need more details on Chris's hair (but I will tell you he shaved just because he knows his mom is reading the blog and she hates it when he doesn't shave!)

But in other hair news....yeah, mine is leaving this mortal coil. But again, not like I was told it would happen. I was told (and I'd read) that your "body hair" goes before the hair on your head. Well, I kinda knew that would be an interesting call. I'm a relatively hairless person. I'll borrow a line from my father: "Hair don't grow on steel." (He says it in reference to his chest. He's of a generation that preceded men shaving their chests. Plus, he's from Georgia. Say it with a southern accent. Yep. You got it.). See, the hair on my arms could fall off all at once right in front of you and you wouldn't notice. Neither would I. Same with the upper half of my legs (I don't shave the top half--never have and never have needed to; and you just plain can't tell. TMI?) Chris and I both looked tonight and we can't really tell if there's been hair loss. But when I got up and brushed my hair this morning an unusually large portion of it stayed in the brush. Okay, granted, after the hell that was my Monday and the purgatory that was my Tuesday, this was the first real brushing my hair had in 48 hours, so maybe it started yesterday but day old hairspray and the sweaty mass that it was in just kept it all sort of glued on (TMI again?). So I finished gently brushing it out and then took a shower, fully expecting I would see most of it pile up in the drain. It didn't happen. Not much came out at all. Some, but not much.

Naturally, I used a ton of conditioner to make combing it out as easy as possible. Which worked. I lost a little more while combing, but again there are no gaping bald spots on my head. So, next up was the styling issue. I really wanted to stretch this out one more day (okay, honestly, I'd like to stretch to Friday so my "regularly scheduled" head-shaving could occur). So I opted to let my straight, wimpy, totally unstyled hair dry by itself (confident a blow dryer and round brush and all that would be my hair's true demise) and then I pulled it back as gently as I could into the ever-classic ponytail. At least that's what I told myself. Of course all day I expected the ponytail to just fall off.

Once I got home, ponytail intact, I was convinced that when I took my hair out of the ponytail it would then just drop to the floor ( like a rubber band was somehow holding my hair onto my head; apparently I have dramatic flair. Who knew?). Again it didn't. So now I'm convinced that when I get up tomorrow morning, my hair won't. It will just stay right there on the pillow sleeping in. And if so, of course you will all find out which wig was the winning wig (winning in this case meaning purchased; which may or may not be the top vote getter--it's my chemo world; I get veto power. Call me W. No, don't. Don't you dare.) Because I have two new client meetings tomorrow and I don't think a bald or wild stray-haired partially bald attorney is what anybody has in mind, so I don't want to scare them off.

On a lighter, more floral note, Chris did mention that Duane and Kelly Roberts sent flowers on the very day I was shaking and baking and losing all my white blood cells. I don't think they knew that but their timing was terrific. And Chris was indeed joking about wine instead...he knows I can't drink that anymore (sadly, it all tastes like dirt now due to those great metallic taste buds of mine). But honestly, they could have hidden a case of wine in this arrangement and we wouldn't find it for months. Look at this thing!! Okay, wait, maybe you can't tell scale from that. Once again, it's Seamus to the rescue. Okay, Seamus weighs 30 pounds and is probably 15" tall. Here he is dwarfed by the flowers:

Now that was a nice surprise to receive on such a crappy, crappy day. So thanks Duane and Kelly, and Carol who helped arrange it, and the poor Flowerloft delivery person who had to carry this! (But doesn't Flowerloft do fantastic work??)

And on a final, final note: Which do we think will get out of control first--Chris's hair or his ego? Alright, he deserves to feel good about himself. He's been awfully good with his two cancer patients lately. Oh! Seamus's cancer check up went just fine yesterday. And yes, Chris had to drive him to Tustin for that. Funny isn't it? Well, maybe not to Chris.