When I was younger, my grandparents talked about prostate enlargement and pacemaker batteries at the dinner table. I knew exactly which relatives were diagnosed with cancer, which ones had beginning stages of Alzheimer’s, and whose cholesterol levels were dangerously high. There were few medical issues that were too private or too embarrassing to talk about over noodle kugel and chicken soup. Medical issues, one could say, were generally the main topic of conversation in my grandparents’ house.
Despite a childhood of exposure to uncensored medical terminology on a regular basis, the word “cancer” never ceases to shock me. Having gone through it, the word now brings back a flood of memories about uncomfortable and sometimes painful treatments and the fear of premature death. Cancer is not a happy word and not something I’m inclined to talk about out loud.
But sometimes there’s no alternative except to use the big C word. I take the reaction to my new hairstyle as a case in point.
A year ago I had long, thick brown hair. Not naturally brown, but brown nonetheless. Fast forward from a year ago to 6 months later and you can envision a woman in her 40s who is stark raving bald. No hair, no eyebrows, no arm, leg, nose, or armpit hairs, no nothing. Bald as a baby’s bottom.
Moving along another 3 months, envision a woman with a grayish crew cut and thin-as-pencil eyebrows, and a few emerging arm and leg hairs. Yet another 3 months will bring you to a woman with almost bushy brown eyebrows and short, very thick, very curly brownish grayish hair. Hair so curly and thick that it grows upward like Marge Simpson, rather than down toward the neck. Hair so curly that not even hair gel and a dryer will straighten out the ringlets. Friends I haven’t seen in a while walk right past me on the street.
So back to the main subject of this story, which is whether or not to use the C word in public. I get reactions to my hair everywhere I go, when I meet someone I haven’t seen in at least a month and a half. In response, I find myself in a pickle, deciding whether to react with a: “Thank you; I love my new afro too.” Or do I react with the ‘too much information’ approach involving full disclosure and a summary of the past year’s roller coaster of chemotherapy and radiation treatments?
A few weeks ago, I was in the elevator with an older man who works in a different department of the government agency where I work. I rarely see him. He said, after a while of silence, “Oh, I didn’t realize it was you. You cut your hair. It looks good!” At that time, I leaned toward semi-open disclosure, mumbling about health issues I had last year, and stated with relief that I was thankful to have hair. He was panic stricken. Profusely apologized. When the elevator doors opened, he practically sprinted out the door.
I realized that the “thank you very much but let me tell you about cancer” approach was not the best idea for brief elevator greetings.
Since that conversation, I have decided to keep mum about the whole thing. Acquaintances I bump into at Stop & Shop just simply do not need to know. All they need to know is that I do have a new crazy hair style and that I am happy with it, thank you very much. No more than that shall be said.
My grandparents would be perplexed at my inclination to keep such an important fact private. It’s a fact of life, they would say, and no reason to be ashamed. But the truth is that I am not ashamed. It is a fact of life. But I do not want to startle and shock people, to lead them to think my days are numbered, when in reality they just want to know the name of my hair stylist.
Some women may lean toward sharing more than others on this subject. The decision likely depends on how close your relationship is with a person. It’s easier to share more information with a long-time work friend than with someone more distant, like your child’s teacher. I invite you to share your experiences in the comment section below.
Great blog. I just said, “oh do you like it this short? I kind of earned the look–I’m going to be fine, but I had a little run in with an early stage breast cancer. We are so fortunate to have great treatment in [our town], and if you know anyone who needs some info or help, please tell them to call me.”
However, I did figure one thing out while still bald; I stopped saying hello to people who didn’t recognize me in the scarfs, wigs, and temporary “looks.” I made the mistake only once and realized it just wasn’t necessary to shock people unless I felt like giving a detailed explanation. Walking up to someone and saying “Hi, it’s me!” while obviously in treatment felt sort unpleasant.
Your curls look great; mine took almost two years to go back to stick-straight.
Warmly,
Cathy
Good post. I have just finished chemo and am still in the bald all over stage, and in a dilemma how to answer friends and relatives who I havent met during treatment. Though My onco said that I shouldnt be avoiding the word cancer as if it is a taboo but just accept it and fight it , I too think it makes no sense volunteering information if we are not sure how they will react. I definitely dont want sympathy or scaring them off. I believe we tend to give explanations and informations a as justification to how we look. Only those close to us will know what a blessing it is for us to stay alive. Yes I am concerned about the tiny white ( White ??? ) hair beginning to crop out and the moles and freckles all over skin, a lack of energy and strength and a lot of things that bother me, and I have to keep reminding myself I am glad to be alive.
regards, usha
I found wearing a scarf during the bald times served almost as a shorthand for cancer so that I didn’t have to explain, unless I wanted to.
By the way, I think sharing with your child’s teacher that you have cancer is important — it gives them context for any changes in behavior that they might see.
I never knew the secret of hair until I lost mine. I was diagnosed with stage 2 triple positive in January 2012. I am currently undergoing chemotherapy and had a double-mastectomy with reconstruction. I cut my long blonde locks to a pixie cut just before starting treatment while secretly hoping that I would be one of the few lucky girls who didn’t lose her hair while on A/C. Reality got the better of me and I lost my hair in March. Rather than wear my wig, I decided to go commando. I work in a corporate environment with approximately 3,000 employees in our location and deal regularly with the senior leadership team in our organization. Needless to say my appearance change has caused quite a commotion. I never knew how many people would be impacted by my hair choice. I have had literally hundreds of friends and strangers alike approach me and thank me for “being brave”. Going without hair has been a rewarding experience and I hope it has brought more awareness to the importance of early detection.
I am certainly not recommending this approach for everyone as there are days where I secretly wish to blend in with the rest of the world and on those days, I pull out my wig. The real lesson for me is that my hair will come back eventfully but that is the least of my worries. I am just happy to be alive and hope that we can find a cure for this disease so more women won’t have to learn about the secret of hair.
Thank you for sharing and keep up the fight!
Kristen
I was just diagnosed with Stage II triple positive BRCA2 infiltrating ductal carcinoma a month ago and scheduled for bilateral mastectomy next week. This has been quite a whirlwind thus far!
I have elected implant reconstruction, though had initially expected to have DIEP reconstruction. Still contemplating whether the implant decision is the “right” one. Would enjoy hearing some insights about the choices others have made. Thanks!
BTW- I figure this is my opportunity to try out the Katy Perry look (blue is my color) and others…and to rival some of my clients’ hair color choices. Thinking that it might help me deal with the down side…if I am up to working during chemo.
My girlfriend’s mother has opted to have her head shaved before starting treatment and since my girlfriend is out of town she has asked me to accompany her mother. What did you not want to hear?
Thank you
People walk right by me as well! I had down to the middle of my back mostly brown hair, and now I have a pixie of short mostly grey, curly hair. And, I’ve decided to just say YES – I like my hair short too – THANK YOU! I do hope the curls tame down though – it’s a little out of control!
Same comments and reactions from others during my bald phase and then the curly phase. But that, too, passed, and now, 6 yrs later, I seem permanently to be salt-and-pepper and wavy-haired, but with only about half the volume of hair. So, be prepared – your wildly-curly look may yet morph into something else, perhaps more to your liking. The good part is waking up every day and seeing hair on my head!
I, too, chose the “commando” look after hating wigs and hats. I met so many wonderful people while out and about. I was able to help women recently diagnosed, or share experiences with those who’d been where I was. And let me tell you, getting ready to go out was a breeze without having to style my hair! I’ve recently been diagnosed in the other breast and will soon have BMX with no recon. When chemo time comes, I will go commando again with no hesitation, being sure to protect my head from the sun.
I started chemo in May…..I had cut my bob to a short boyish crop….By my second chemo, it was falling in clumps and I woke up one day and shaved it off. It was liberating……
Being diagnosed with triple negative BC was the big shock so the hair falling out was nothing…. I know it will grow back….
and I promise I will never complain of a bad hair day again.
Julie
I am 7 months post chemo and my hair is almost an inch long. I work in health care and most who know me, know about my hair. I went back to work with less than a quarter inch and wore a wig for the first two weeks then went wingless. I work in healthcare and some of my patients were surprised, most understood. My ID has a pict of me with hair past my shoulders. Today while working with a patient her daughter said, “wow, your hair was long, what made made go so short.” I replied, a few months ago I lost all my hair, but was happy it was coming back. I think she knew without further explanation. I didn’t feel bad and continued with my patient. I don’t mind telling people if they ask, and when it was all gone all I wore was a bandana. I miss my long hair, but have grown to love my new look and won’t go long again. When I see other women who are going through what I went through, I feel compelled to go up and say, it does come back, and it doesn’t define who we are.
Laura, I love your curly hair too! My hair has taken forever to grow back–I finished chemo almost a year ago, in August, and at this point I am sporting just a 2-inch long brown/grey butch that I am “spiking,” and it actually looks kind of trendy. When I go out, I wear big earrings and full make-up. I’ve had three mini-trims while my hair has been growing out to even up the back and sides and give it some shape. (It grows much faster in the back!) I started out with what eventually became six inexpensive wigs, in different colors and styles, from tlc.org, sponsored by the American Cancer Society. I also have some very cute hats and scarves from the same source. However, about a month ago, I started going commando as well, and it really is liberating! Plus I live in the southwest, and those wigs are HOT. My hair started falling out after the second weekly chemo. I took one look at those sad clumps in the shower, buzzed it all off myself, and never looked back. I’m just happy to be alive.
This is presently scares me the most. Sad to say but like my hair and as my husband has said many times… you need to stop hiding behind your hair and get a cut that will show your face… well, I go to the Dr tomorrow to learn what my treatment will be and what kind of chemo I will be receiving..so far I know 4-6 treatments over 18 weeks, with a porta cath being inserted on Thursday. I’m scared and the husband is angry. But I’m glad I’m getting treatment.
I find out my chemo routine next week and it all scares me. When my mother’s hair grew back after her treatment in the late ’80′s, her hair was so beaitiful. I am hoping for same.
Thank you for writing about this. I am a teacher so it will be interesting to see how the students react to this part of my treatment.