I was diagnosed at age 33 with stage 3 invasive ductal carcinoma aka Breast Cancer. The strange part was that I was in no way, shape, or form surprised. The summer before my diagnosis I was becoming tired often and experienced frequent arm pain. Eventually, I felt the lump under my arm and before the Oncologist could say it was confirmed; I had already confirmed it in my own mind. Just the thought of what was to come made me frightened and ill. I faced it head on-pardon the pun (bald is beautiful) and held on to my character, strength and humor throughout it all. Chemo was aggressive and lasted for a 6month time frame. My hair, a head full of soft curls began to change in texture. I cut it into a bob and still it continued to change. Then one day the few inches of coarse hay fell out in clumps-exposing my scalp. I called for a barber I knew to come to my home and to bring the straight razor. It was a shock to see the shiny orb that sat above my shoulders. I was both impressed at the perfect sphere shape and tortured by the absence of my curly locks. It is possible to be happy and devastated simultaneously, to laugh and shed tears of pain in one moment.
Remember I mentioned I had to hold on to my humor? Trust me I held on tightly; especially when going to the Cancer Center to try on wigs.
Every oddly colored, matted and mangled concoction of artificial and real-hair wigs was presented to me in 45 minute's time. Whoa! If there was ever a time that I considered being completely bald on a regular basis; it was then. So I took a trip to several hair supply stores in some sketchy areas and low and behold-it was like I hit the hair lottery! I found colors that complimented and cuts that flattered. I was beyond excited and couldn't wait to get those bad boys on.
Oh, Iv'e run out of space-and there is so much more.......
Bristol, CT
