Alopecia

I went to the doctor’s office on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving to attend a Chem 101 review session, I mean a Chemo 101 review session. This medical group does a great job of preparing patients for the side effects of chemo. I have already had one round of chemo, but I just wanted more information. And like many a college review session, I happened to be the only one there. Perhaps the other chemo students went home early for Thanksgiving ; )

So, I basically got a 1-hour private consultation with an oncology pharmacist. The presentation was tailored to me and I got to ask lots of questions. Toward the end of the session came the topic of alopecia. This means hair loss. The pharmacist was surprised that my hair had not fallen out yet. I told her that it seemed like more hair was coming out when I brushed or washed it. She told me it would come out in clumps. Like I would wake up in the morning and my hair would be lying on the pillow in a clump! It was at this point that I wanted to cry.

I think I have been very good about all of this up to this point. I mean we are all familiar with fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea, and flu-like symptoms, but hair loss is something completely foreign. How does it really happen? One moment I am walking around with hair and the next moment I notice clumps of hair on the floor? Will I be completely bald or will I have a few strands left? Does it happen at once or over a series of days? I think not knowing the exact process scares me.

After the review session, I had a little over an hour before I needed to pick up Emma from school. I decided it was time to visit a wig shop. I was planning to shop for a wig with a couple of girlfriends last week, but I cancelled because I was so tired. I wanted to make wig-shopping fun, like shopping for a new pair of shoes. I thought we would all try a few wigs on, put a few Cher style wigs on, take pictures and laugh about it all. It was actually good that my first experience with wigs was by myself.

I walked into the wig shop looking like a deer in the headlights. It looked like a regular hair salon except the walls were lined with shelf after shelf of wigs. I thought I would just walk to the shelf, put a wig on, see how it looked and then move on to the next wig -- self service style. Perhaps that is how it is done in other shops. In this shop, it is all about service.

When the woman (would she be called a stylist?) first saw me standing rather timidly in the middle of the store, she pulled me over to see the wig of another client who was still in the styling chair. This other woman’s wig looked very real. The client looked great and she seemed very happy. I was not sure why the lady in the styling chair needed a wig. Then this woman told me she lost her hair due to an illness (cancer?)

OK. Then it was my turn to sit in the styling chair. I wasn’t quite prepared for this. What happened to “just looking.” The stylist asked why I was shopping for a wig. “It wouldn’t be chemo would it?” she asked. “Oh yes,” I said, “It would be chemo.” I flashed her my port and she understood.

At this point the stylist turned into something between a counselor, bartender and girlfriend. She clearly has had lots of cancer patients sit in that chair, because she knew just what to say.

For the next 30 minutes of so, the stylist managed to make me laugh, to calm me, to educate me, and to sell me on a nice style in my color. When I put the wig on, I wanted to pull the hair back into a barrette like I do my own hair. This is when I learned my first lesson: the wig comes with a certain style. You can’t change the style. No scrunchies or barrettes in the wig. I told her I would be back with my mom and/or girlfriends for a second opinion.

This is hard, I think because getting upset over the loss of hair is so irrational. I mean my hair will grow back! Yet, hair is very personal. It is like a limb. In addition, the loss of hair is so public. While fatigue and nausea is not always associated with cancer, a scarf or hat over a bald head clearly signals cancer. Finally, I think I am upset because losing hair and getting a bald head is, frankly, a bit freakish. It is just not normal. Now every time I lie down, I check to see if I left my hair behind on the pillow.



Here is button I got from the doctor's office. My stylist friend had a button that was a little more blunt and crude that I cannot post.