Cancer Realities

By Amy Kalman, RN

More than a week after surviving neurosurgery for a ruptured brain aneurysm, I was able to open my swollen my eyes to see. During my first trip to the bathroom I happened to look in the mirror and noticed both eyes bruised and my head covered in gauze with a long, thin clump of hair hanging out the right side. I removed the cling, investigated a shimmering horseshoe of staples in my once dark, shiny haired scalp, and met myself for the first time after a lifelong fixation with my appearance, particularly my hair. I proceeded to cover the whole mess with my favorite Yankees hat.

Three weeks after discharge from the hospital, my hairdresser shaved off the pathetic remains of those formerly thick long locks. The remainder of my image, identity and self expression were left lying on the floor of the salon only to be swept away minutes later.

It was a vulnerable, naked feeling. For many of us, our hair is our identity. It’s an expression of who we are; and with many types of chemotherapy, losing it is a completely unavoidable process. The loss associated with chemotherapy happens with different timing and in a different manner than my own, and may include losing body hair as well (eyebrows, eyelashes, etc.). There is a chance that your tresses will initially grow back a different texture or color, but in time your hair will very likely return to pre-treatment appearance.

Give yourself the opportunity, during the time you’re receiving treatment, to reflect on your uniqueness beyond external appearance. During the period I went smooth on top I learned to be thankful for my beating heart, expanding and contracting lungs, and a second chance to use them both with love and appreciation. Excessive attention to what we look like can prevent us from identifying the most important priorities in our lives. My guess is that your loved ones, family and friends are at the top of your priority list, along with love for and from them. I’m sure almost any cancer survivor will tell you that during their stage of baldheadedness, they had an abundance of emotional support available to them from loved ones.

Having a day where you feel your confidence plummeting? Feeling like a victim? Sadness creeping in? I refer you to a study done by Yale University indicating those without hair are seen as most intelligent—so wear it proudly! Whether you choose no intervention, shaving your remaining hair, wearing a scarf or wig to deal with your hair loss, as both the nurse and the patient, I must remind you that when your hair has grown back, the most important part of your story is that you’re a Survivor.

Have you lost your hair due to cancer or some other medical treatment? How did it make you feel? Share your thoughts in the comments below.