I had been growing my hair out from my normal pixie cut for over a year. I had finally gotten to maintain a cute, chin length bob that I could do curly or straight, and had the perfect cut and color. Last week, upon the cancer diagnosis, I decided (along with my husband) to go back to the pixie. It will be easier to maintain, and less traumatic for me when it starts to fall out.
I went in today to see Sam, my fantastic stylist, and she noticed I was walking slow and asked me why, so I told her what was going on. I broke down a bit when I told her what I wanted done and she broke down when she found out why. You see, I confirmed with my oncologist – the type of chemo I am going to have is the type that not only makes you sick, but also makes you lose your hair. I am having the hardest time getting past this. This piece seems to make it a little more real. Sam promised that if I needed anything regarding my hair, that she would be there. If I wanted her to shave it, she would even come to the house to do it.
Last night, in tears, I told my husband I was feeling a bit selfish. I didn’t want to lose my hair.
He cupped my face in his hands (oh those freaking hands – I love those hands), and he teared up a bit. And then he said, “I don’t want to lose you. It’s just hair.”
I love him beyond words.