Hit Me Baby One More Time

For those that have known me since my college years or attended my bachelorette party or wedding, you know that I was a Britney Spears fan. It seems like just yesterday that I was dancing at 511 (my college house) to "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and that was nearly 10 years ago. Believe it or not, since then Britney and I have followed somewhat parallel paths...we were both married the same year, had our first babies the same year and our second babies weren't too far off. And as I was sitting at Susan's Special Needs shop, I realized that very soon I would have one more thing in common with the pop princess.

My doctor had warned me that my hair would fall out "like clockwork" on day 14. On day 13, I still had no sign of the impending hair loss and for a brief moment naively thought "maybe I will be one of the lucky few." As I thought that I wondered if that is what everyone else thinks on day 13 and then the next day they wake up without their hair. Sure enough, when day 14 arrived my hair started to fall out. It wasn't like I woke up and all the hair was on my pillow, but I could see it coming out more than usual in the shower and when I brushed my hair. No one else would notice, but I noticed. Day 14 was also the day I had my chemo port put in. It was one of the days that no matter what-I couldn't avoid the fact that I have cancer. The majority of the time I try to live life as normal as possible and I go to work, come home play with the girls and talk to Ben about our day--and we never discuss the cancer. I prefer these days because I don't want to waste my valuable time dwelling on the fact that I have cancer. Wednesday, I couldn't stand that the realization of the cancer was back. I had just had two weeks off from chemo and for about a week I was feeling 100% again. Now, I was losing my hair and going in to have a port surgically attached to a vein so that it would be easier to administer the chemo and everyone was talking about the cancer. After I woke up from the sedation I told my mom that I wanted to go shopping. I hate wasting time and going home and staring at a TV was just not what I wanted to do. So I convinced my mom that I felt great and could walk through the Village of Rochester and go in a few stores. I had no pain in my arm because of the IV pain meds so I went into a few stores and then we went to lunch (I hadn't eaten all day) and then we headed home. When I got home, the pain had finely hit and only then did I realize that I probably should have come straight home, but honestly if I had to do it all over again I would have done the same thing. I don't want to feel like cancer is slowing me down or taking time away from me. (I quickly recovered from the pain and I went back to work the next day and had a big weekend of ballet class, hosting a parent group party and picking out our Christmas tree.)

By Friday, it was clear to me that my hair loss was dramatically increasing and would become noticeable to others very soon. Plus, it is a little disconcerting to see so much hair falling to the ground every time you run a brush through it. Instead of letting my hair continue to fall out and wondering when I would wake up one morning and have none, I decided to take matters into my own hands and go and get it shaved off. I had made an appointment the day before at Susan's shop (Susan is also a breast cancer survivor.) I was confident that I was making the right decision and as I was sitting in the chair and facing the wall, I felt empowered-like I had finally taken the control away from the cancer. As she shaved my head and I saw the long strands of hair fall to the ground, I didn't think about the 29+ years that I have had long hair (except for when I was in 2nd grade and told the stylist I wanted layers and she gave me a pixie cut--I was traumitized and vowed I would never let anyone cut my hair short again), I thought I wonder what my head will be shaped like or if I would have any scars or imperfections on my scalp. The stylist said I am surprised how strong you are being, many women cry when they go through this. I didn't think I was being strong, but when she said it I realized I didn't have the attachment to my hair that I thought I would. I wasn't sad to lose my hair. In fact, I was a little excited because I couldn't wait to see what I would look like. And as I whipped my chair around to look in the mirror for the first time-I actually liked what I saw. No I didn't have my long locks, but when I looked in the mirror I saw a fighter and a survivor with a perfectly round head and no scars! I felt like Demi Moore in G.I. Jane and it made me feel stronger than ever--no one would mess with me now. I could finally understand why Britney shaved off her hair. After she shaved my head, she put the wig on that I had picked out a few weeks earlier and I loved it. It's shorter than I have ever went, but I wanted something different and I figure it would be less maintenance and less drastic when my hair starts coming back.

As soon as I got home Ava said "Mommy, I love your haircut" and Kalyn ran into my arms and I breathed a sigh of relief because as everyone knows kids always tell the truth. And then, life went on as usual....