For those of you without cancer... or cancer without hair loss, you may not fully appreciate why I would take a picture of myself with a towel on my head. Even a photo sans eye glasses where I look cross eyed.
For the majority of my cancer journey I didn't want to get in the shower. Then when I did...I didn't want to get out. I wanted to stay in that safe place forever. Or maybe I just didn't want to face drying off and losing more hair. I lingered forever... feeling wasteful yet not really giving a shit either.
Months after chemo my hair started to grow back... I dried off quickly just rubbing the towel over my new hair. I felt like a boy in a gym shower toweling off... like the ones I've seen on tv. I fielded the comments about how nice it must be to not have to do my hair. Meaningful banter... not hateful and not taken that way. As my hair grew a tad longer and started to fill in, people that didn't know me thought my hair was edgy + hip. I smiled and took the compliment though sometimes I spilled the beans. I have this uncanny need to do that.
My hair went curly... and I learned to use product to tame it. I trimmed my sides. I wanted to avoid the whole Chemo-Fro look and was determined not to let cancer dictate my new look. I wanted control.
Now I hop in the shower without contemplation. I tackle my shower routine... shampoo, soap up, rinse, condition, shave, rinse and grab a hand towel to wrap around my head.
Simple Milestones. Simple milestones that exude normalcy. Welcome back lil' white towel. Welcome back.
for previous posts on 'chemo hair' click here