Well my anxiety is at a record high. Thursday will mark my second chemotherapy session. At the first session my oncologist told me I could expect to begin losing my hair in as early as three weeks. The time has come.
I must say that I've been so focused on finding the perfect wig(s) I didn't lend much thought to the fact that I will also lose arm hair, upper lip hair (yea, I'll admit it), leg hair, and...uh...well, you know. Two days ago I began to notice some excessive shedding and needless to say I got nervous. The good thing is my hair was still intact....I was shedding in the nether regions. I was a bit taken aback because, like I mentioned, I hadn't put much thought into that area. It bothered me a little but I was okay because I still had my top mane intact, although my scalp has become tender and that has my nerves on edge.
Recently, I've noticed myself periodically running my fingers through my hair and looking to see how many strands come out. Well later on, after the shedding incident, I took my wig to the salon so my aunt could taper the edges for me. When I put the wig on I couldn't get it styled the way I had the day I bought it and my tension began to rise. She went in and tapered it where it needed but couldn't get it styled to her satisfaction either. We were both very obviously frustrated. Her frustration came from the whole 'cancer issue'. The cancer always becomes real for her when it comes to my hair and she cannot handle it. She breaks down. I am trying hard to be understanding but it is a double-edged sword. She has been my beautician my WHOLE life and I don't want anyone else in my hair. We both sat there frustrated and angry, not at each other, but at cancer. So, I gathered my purse, keys, phone, wig and left the salon.....still frustrated. I was mad that I even have to go through this.
Desperately I'm trying to remedy this hair situation and give myself options at the same time, so I decide to let my co-worker and friend create a wig for me using a 27-piece quick weave. We had talked about me losing my hair and she graciously offered to do it for me at the beginning of my battle. Yesterday was the big day. I went to her salon and she placed the stocking cap on my head and got right down to business. I was a long process but when she finished I was definitely pleased with the 'realistic' quality of the wig. I did want it to be a bit fuller in the rear-crown area but that was an easy fix we could do later.
Once I got home, I played with my new wig for a bit then toyed with the idea of trying it out in public at a poetry set I planned on attending. I realized I still wasn't ready mentally to wear the wig and probably wouldn't be until the time came when I HAD to. So I decided to take it off and get ready for a night out with friends. Then came the real problems. It wouldn't come off. The glue had soaked through the cap and onto my real hair and it wouldn't budge. I began to freak out. I called Toni (my friend who created the wig), I called my aunt, then I called my sister all for advice on how to get myself out of this wig. I ended up using oil sheen in an attempt to loosen the glue. Then I spent thirty minutes in the shower shampooing and conditioning myself into a frenzy still trying to free myself. After an hour I was finally free and relieved but the wig was ruined in the process. I won't even begin to mention the amount of hair I lost in this fight. *HEAVY SIGH*
So here I am, almost three o'clock in the morning blogging because the time has come. Tonight my hair is beginning to shed heavily. I'm just glad I was not alone when it began. Papi was here reminded me that I was 'STILL WOMAN" but was just going through some changes. He threw away the hairball in my hand, told me to leave my hair alone and don't worry about it tonight, wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to comfort me (Thank you Papi). The entire time all I kept saying is, "This is bullshit!"
It sucks that I have to endure this kind of pain and trauma. THIS IS BULLSHIT. I honestly feel numb. I don't really know what or how to feel. THIS IS BULLSHIT. I knew it was coming, but how do you honestly prepare for something like this....emotionally? So here I sit, blogging my emotions, forced to deal with yet another blow and if you really want to know how I feel.......THIS.IS.SOME.BULLSHIT.
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