A Childhood Cancer Survivor Blogging about the World of Childhood Cancer

Posts tagged ‘Shave’

Ben Franklin’s Doo and Cindy Lou Who

 

 

 

I remember talking with my mom about the impending  loss of my hair when I was beginning cancer treatments. We both wondered how it would happen. I mean, would it all fall out at once? Would I wake up one morning with a huge “nest” on my pillow? Would it fall out in clumps here and there? As we imagined different circumstances, we would end up laughing until our bellies hurt. Never did we imagine what actually happened… and never, ever did we imagine it would be so funny that we would laugh about it for years to come!

From Grace: A Child’s Intimate Journey Through Cancer and Recovery: 

Dad nearly collapsed , and his eyeballs bugged out from his head. I guess that was the first time he ever really noticed the progression, or shall I say regression, of my hair loss. What occurred was quite fascinating. I had expected for hair to fall out everywhere, leaving patches of hair and no hair until all was gone. But instead, my one-eighth-inch part grew wider and wider until a stripe of a little over an inch created almost a “freeway” on my head. Hmm . . . Route Baldo . . . kinda has a ring to it. Anyway, each attempt to brush my hair resulted in more lanes being added, my own personal “tax dollars” at work. I needed some cones to set out.

A bit further on in Grace:

The mirror was a visual aid in grasping the reality that I had just about as much hair as a naked mole rat. My male-pattern baldness was most prominent where my part once stood. From there on out, the forest became slightly thicker. The near crop circle on my head was disturbing, yet hilarious. The phases went from top to bottom, and looking into the future, I saw myself with almost a “curtain” of hair along the side of my head, but nothing on top. I laughed so hard that it hurt. 

“Mom,” I shouted, still in a slur of giggles, “I’m gonna look like Ben Franklin!”

We laughed until our bellies hurt, our eyes were watering, and we were nearly
peeing in our pants. And then . . . we laughed some more.

As my crop circle continued widening to the extent of covering my entire head, I would gather the few strands into a tiny pony-tail on top of my head. My mom called me Cindy Lou Who… “who was not more than two!”IMGP2601 006

After this photo was taken, I returned home to the razor…

From Grace:

With Mom on one side and Nicholas on the other, we crawled down the hallway, as if preparing for launch. My hand grasped the metal hair buzzer on our bathroom counter. I was ready. With a “click,” I fired it up . . . all eyes watched my steady hand. As though using my own personal, mini-lawn mower, I executed a perfectly straight line from the center of my forehead to the crown of my head. 

I paused. It was an epic moment, and I knew it . . . everyone did. The now free hair floated elegantly down to the waiting floor as I began to form a parallel row. Feeling the cool air on my bare head, I giggled. It was something virtually no one experiences, let alone a thirteen-year-old girl.

I followed the contour of my head. I had never really known what shape it was. The tiny, delicate hairs slid down the back of my shirt, making me itchy. Carefully, I formed a giant circle on the top of my head, trying hard to make it as even as possible. The circle grew larger, just as a crop circle mysteriously forms in cornfields at 3:00 a.m.

Suddenly, I stopped and stared at the stranger reflected back at me. I had purposely ceased midway to, truly, be the one I resembled. I was Ben Franklin. With only straggly hair running around the majority of my head’s circumference, I depicted the founding father perfectly! Laughter erupted, and I found a chuckle that squeezed shock, excitement, embarrassment, and joy right out of me.

IMGP2607 032

 I am thinking I should Bring Ben Back– even for a few moments on my shave day– this Saturday, March 30, at Oakland Children’s Hospital for St. Baldrick’s Foundation.

http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/579474/2

Kids need fun. Adults need fun. 

Cancer is no fun.

Let’s stop cancer together. 



 

Advertisements

Going Bald Again…This Time for The Kids

GraceBrushing my teeth in a reflective daze, I stare at my shampoo bottle…I won’t miss it.  Nor will I miss my brush… bobby pins- none of them.  I imagine what it must be like to feel the tickle of the breeze on nothing but delicate fuzz.  Towel in hand, I think about how many strokes it would take to dry my head.  Staring into the mirror, I try to envision others’ questioning glances.  Oh that’s right- I knew… I know.  Yet recollection is a mysterious thing.   While I can vividly recall my chemo-ridden body reaching for the razor five years ago, the chaotic emotions of the time have instead been replaced with gratitude, excitement- hope.

            Who am I to have a choice?  They don’t.  I didn’t… once upon a time.  My own trials through cancer have been glossed over with the faces of kids around the country- of those whose stories I heard while sitting intently at their bedside.  Amazement continues to knock on my soul. 

There is no choice but to fight-  no choice but to bitterly resist the chemo bag hanging beside you, yet surrender to it…  place your absolute trust and hope in it.  What if… what if you had so much certainty in that little, seemingly harmless, bag that you could let go… trust… know.  That you could give in and not face fear of slipping… slipping…. leaving. 

This is my desire, and one that the St. Baldrick’s Foundation works towards daily.  The number once private funder of childhood cancer research, they hold events worldwide each year.  St. Baldrick’s raised $33 million last year; this money provides grants for researchers who are working tirelessly to find less toxic treatments and cures for those children who face, and will face the same beast I did.  As my heart overflows with appreciation for my own life, yet sadness that others still fight the battle I know all too well, I find that hope is the path that must be taken. 

I have decided to join in St. Baldrick’s mission and participate in an event that is taking place on March 30th, 2013 at Oakland Children’s Hospital.  The deal?  No more shampoo… no more bobby pins, brushes… or anything of that sort.  In an effort to be in solidarity with cancer kids everywhere, to raise awareness, and to raise money to fund research grants, I will be shaving my head…. again.

If I refuse…I lose.  It is as simple as that.  What is hair, anyway?  Something that keeps your head warm- something that gets tied back or covered up on bad days.  It can be straightened, gelled, curled, and colored.  However, many people don’t realize what else it can do- create awareness, provide greater funds for research, better treatments, and hope for each and every child fighting. 

I am just one person, but if everyone allowed that thought to build a wall in front of them, no change would ever happen… no amazing things would take place.  And so I choose to do what I can…give what I can in this life that can, at times, tell you to give up- to not give because “it is not enough.” I encourage you to do the same.  We never lose by giving… only by passing an opportunity to give our own unique contribution.

For information about St. Baldrick’s and their mission, please visit: http://www.stbaldricks.org

To support my individual participation, my team, and children with cancer everywhere, please visit:

http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/melinda

John and Vicki kiss my dome during treatment at Cottage Hospital in March 2008.

John and Vicki kiss my dome during treatment at Cottage Hospital in March 2008.

Tag Cloud