Baldy Mama...and not just on my head!

It may sound vain, but amongst all the side effects that chemotherapy would bring, I was most concerned about losing my hair. I am not a stylish person – most days my plain hair was in a simple ponytail. No bump. No pouf. Just an old school ponytail. I did not have highlights – I would color my hair all one color to add some richness and to hide a few pesky grey hairs (ok, more than a few. But who’s counting?). I do not know how to French braid or put my hair in cute, trendy styles. (Trust me, my 2 daughters are fully aware of my lack of skills in this department!) But I was really upset about losing my plain, un-styled, shoulder length, thick-ish brown hair. For me, losing my hair was the one thing that would set me apart as a “sick” person. I would no longer just be Jenna, mother of Ryan, Stella and Norah, or Jenna, wife of Michael. I would be bald. I would look sick. Everyone would know I had cancer. I would get that look – you know that look you give to someone who you feel sorry for. You stare and tilt your head and say “awww” internally, wondering what is wrong with them. I certainly wasn’t ashamed that I had breast cancer, but up to that point I had enjoyed a life of anonymity. I do not like to stand out in a crowd. Being bald would take all that away.

I was also going to lose my hair and be bald in the winter, so I did a lot of thinking about how I was going to cover my noggin up on those cold Baltimore days. Hats? Wigs? Scarves? I knew what I didn’t want – I didn’t want the scarves and wraps that screamed “I HAVE CANCER!” I know many people embrace it and own it and can wear them with pride. I knew that I would not be one of those women. (When discussing this issue with my Mom, she laughed and said “Just promise me you wont get those terrycloth turbans that the old women wear.” Not to worry, Mom. No pink terrycloth turbans that gather in the front for this girl!)

I wasn’t really sure how I felt about a wig either. I was going to be bald, and wearing fake hair seemed a little strange to me. Like it was too fake. Like I was cheating. But if I wanted to look “normal”, a wig would certainly help me blend in in a crowd.

Having become somewhat of a wig expert herself after her mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I invited my wonderful friend Ashley to come with me to look for a wig. If my fashion and style sense is a 0, hers is a 10. I trust her opinion completely, and I knew she would be the perfect person to help me through this. Choosing a wig was personal. I didn’t want to do it alone, and was grateful to have someone as special as her come along. Oh, the blessings of a best friend! We made a day of it, shopping at a local wig shop and then going to lunch at Cheesecake Factory. Despite the fact that I was shopping for fake hair to cover my baldness, in an endless sea of bad days this day will always remain a highlight of mine.







The wig I selected was very similar to my natural hair color (actually, it had better highlights than I would ever have!), and was a short a line bob. It was synthetic, but was hand-tied at the scalp which made it look like real hair. It had some bangs, which the sales lady told me would come in handy if and when I lost my eyebrows. When Ashley and I found out how much it was ($495!), neither of us were surprised. Of course WE would pick the most expensive one there! But luckily for me, I had a prescription from my oncologist for a wig (yes, they do that) and my insurance would cover up to $350. The wig shop would take the $350 from my insurance and would not charge me the remaining fee. I placed the order, and was told it would be available in a week.

I also scoured the pages of the Headcovers.com website, buying all different hats and a couple scarves. I was pleasantly surprised at the selection of hats that not only covered your head completely, but were cute and stylish too. I bought bandanas from Michael’s Arts and Crafts as well, but didn’t love those as much. I was willing to try anything. I just wanted to have options when it came to this most visible sign of my condition.

When meeting with my medical oncologist in early September, we spent a good bit of time discussing the many and varied side effects that chemotherapy would bring. When I asked if I would lose my hair, his guaranteed “Yes” was difficult to take in. When I asked when I would lose my hair, I was shocked when he said “Around day 14. Of your first round of chemo.” WHAT???!!!!! I thought I might lose it more gradually, or later on in treatment. But just after the FIRST treatment? I was not expecting that! (We can thank the Adriamycin, or the “Red Devil” for that one – it gets to work fast killing everything – good and bad. Hair is no exception.)

Facebook Post from October 5, 2010 at 10:28pm
“Last night with my "long" hair - it's getting cut short tomorrow! YIKES!!! Bring on the pixie haircut, baby! :)”

I decided that I needed to cut my hair shorter in order to better deal with the hair loss. It just seemed it would be easier to handle the hair falling out if it was shorter rather than longer. I didn’t want to shave my head pre-emptively, and secretly I wished I had enough guts to chop it off in a cute funky hairstyle and color it some crazy shade of pink. But that was never going to happen, so I settled on a respectable, cute haircut from my stylist that would ease the pain just a bit. I said goodbye to my old hair, knowing it would be a while before we met again, if ever. I remember paying my bill at the salon and thinking it was ironic that I just paid to have my hair cut when in just about a week I would start losing it all. Oh, well. At least I would save some money not having to pay for haircuts or waxing for a while! (I still claim that the biggest perk of chemo was the not having to shave or wax at all. It was awesome.)

Remembering the words of my oncologist, I still found myself shocked on day 13 post treatment when my hair began to fall out. Except that it wasn’t the hair on my head that fell out first. I lost the hair…. ahem…. down THERE! Imagine my surprise when using the restroom and it looked like I had been shaved in my underwear! It was quite amusing to me, and while it didn’t make losing the hair on my head any easier, it was something I could laugh about. And on some days, laughter was all I had going for me.

Facebook Post from October 14, 2010
“As promised.... just a little late. Here is the before and after of my new hair cut. Don't get too attached - we are entering the mangy dog phase of my hair falling out. Time for some hats and scarves :)”





I had my cute new hair for about a week and then it started falling out, just like clockwork. And it fell out in clumps. My pillow was covered in hair in the morning. Taking a shower was a challenge: my hair needed washing, but it was difficult to wash it without removing mass quantities of hair in the process. I had to let it air-dry – using a blow dryer was out of the question. My short new hair needed some texture cream to keep it looking good, but it became impossible to put in. Every time I would try to rub it in, I pulled out huge clumps. I had hair everywhere.




Michael wanted to me to shave my head to make it easier. My sweet stylist had even volunteered to come to my house and shave my head when things got bad. I was afraid to shave it. I wanted to hang on a little while longer. But as the days went by, the hair loss grew worse and worse. By day 18 post treatment, my part had grown wider and my hair was so fine I had to wear a hat to cover it up. On Friday night, 3 days before my next treatment, I decided it was time. My husband shaved my head while my kids looked on from the bathroom door. My haircut had lasted less than 2 weeks.

Facebook Post from October 15, 2010
“Got fed up with all my hair falling out and had Mike buzz my head. Now that’s true love!”






I wasn't ready to take a picture of my shaved head just yet.