Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Big Shave!
I've always heard people who've been through chemo say that the worst moment is the diagnosis, but a CLOSE second is the day your hair falls out. On Father's Day, I decided I had had enough of the shedding. It was getting to be tough emotionally to be thinking all the time, "Oh, don't touch your hair because more will come out,", or "Will TODAY be the day that it's now obvious to other people and I have to shave it?" So, after an emotional morning, I felt it was time. I had picked up my wigs on Friday, had a few cute hats and scarves in my stash, so felt I was ready to start the work week on Monday with my wig.
I called my wonderful friends Rebecca and Bobby Jones and they loaned me a clipper. A couple hours later, I was ready. Happy about it, looking forward to the relief, and ready to shave. The whole family gathered out on the patio, we got out the hammock, chicken was grilling, and cameras were rolling, and Rory was much more interested in playing ball in the yard with Poppy. I did the first part of the shaving myself, sitting on the concrete patio under the shade. Jason did clean-up for me. We all had a great time, making G.I. Jane jokes and searching for what grotesque previously-unknown birthmark we might find under all that hair. Luckily, what we found is that I actually have a pretty nicely-shaped head!
When we finished, Rory came over, rubbed by fuzzy head, and pointed at the clipper saying, "I want some now." We explained that Mommy was the only one shaving her head today, so Mommy could wear her "new hairs" as she calls my wigs. Then, in her two-year-old way, she said, "Mommy, you look kinda like a baby." I laughed and said, "You know Rory, I guess I probably do, don't I?"
So, here are some pics of the shorn head and the wig.