Taking the Plunge



On Wednesday, February 1st 2012 my hair started to fall out.

In the mandatory chemotherapy class Kaiser makes you take the oncology nurse really pushes this one detail to the extreme. I was told that within ten days after my first infusion ALL my hair would have fallen out of its own accord. So every single day after my infusion I tread very lightly with my scalp. Not brushing my hair too hard or too much, looking for bald patches etc.

And nothing was happening,

It wasn’t until 2/1/12 that I took a shower and as I ran my fingers through my shampooed hair I noticed locks of chestnut brown hair looped through my fingers. Much, much more than what was normal. This meant that the chemo was killing my hair follicle cells. I tried to feel that happen. I tried to feel the cells die as my hair was falling out. As I watched my hair swirl down the drain all I could do was stamp my feet and yell “NO!!”. As if throwing an adult tantrum would somehow command my chemo cells to stop killing my hair. At that point all I could do was laugh.

The next day however more came out. I woke up with hair just everywhere. It fell off as I walked. It came out if you touched it. It was really depressing me and making me feel like a cancer patient. So, I decided to take a weekend trip to my old home (Oakland/Berkeley/SF) and do some things to make myself feel better.

Friday night I checked into a hotel with my boyfriend. We walked around Jack London square, visited a few bars and stocked up on liquid courage at bevmo. After a few drinks and watching the first half of the movie I.Q. (I was never much for Meg Ryan) I was ready to take the plunge. I brought a head shaver with me on this trip specifically to use and now was the time.

As I stood in front of the mirror I was scared. I was scared because I didn’t yet look “sick” and I didn’t want to after either. I turned it on. It came alive with an abrupt “BUZZ” and hummed slowly and evenly to me. I brought it closer to the left side of my ear and allowed it to eat away at the hair I had there. I looked at it – not so bad. Now it became sort of fun. Now I was taking large swaths of hair and giving myself a mohawk. I even enlisted jeremy to shave the back of my head. When all was finished, It wasn’t so bad


    The next day I went and got my wig styled and bought some cute berets and scarves to wear. My boyfriend still tells me I’m beautiful and no one knows the wiser when I wear my wig. Now, I just have to think of a faulous drag queen name for my wig head. What do you think?


I’m voting on Felicia Jollygoodfellow .🙂