Yes, I know bad joke, but I couldn’t resist.
When I lost my hair in 2021, I had a complete breakdown. I cried like a baby, unable to believe it was happening, even though I’d been warned. My little girl held me tight and offered comforting words until I could regain my composure.
It wasn’t the hair loss itself that was so devastating, but the loss of control. I felt out of control of my body, my time, and even my mind and emotions. Losing my hair was the last piece of control I had. I used to decide whether to cut it or let it grow, how to style it. It was mine. And then, I lost that control. My last connection to myself.
It took time to adjust, but I eventually did. This time, I was prepared mentally and physically. I chose when to cut it and accepted that it wasn’t the end of the world. Many women rock bald heads with grace and class. Why couldn’t I? Maybe not the classy part, as I’ve never been a girly girl. Early acceptance brought me peace and calm. It brought me back to who I used to be.
I can’t control the cancer or its treatments. But I can control how I handle and adapt to them. Hopefully, I’ll continue to adapt well. I have a strong support system, both spiritually and physically. Together, we’ll navigate the twists and turns of this disease and its treatment.
“When one family member fights cancer, the entire family becomes warriors.”