Before
Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Britney Spears
The following is a copy of the message I sent out to all the members of our "Monsters Against Myeloma" facebook fanpage:
Subj: Britney Spears!!!
I just shaved my head.
Where to begin, where to begin… If you grew up in the 90’s, like me, you might know what I look like. Yes, that’s right, Krillin from DragonBall Z, minus the robes and muscles. Add in Will Smith ears and, now, a never-ending forehead (or in the words of Rihanna, “5head”), then VOILA!
Spitting. Image.
Two days ago, my family decided that it was time to shave my mom’s hair. To say that that was traumatic would be a small understatement. So yesterday, my brother and I shaved OUR heads to make mama bear feel better. Needless to say, hair is NOT just hair. Hair loss is a common side-effect of chemotherapy seen in cancer patients. Although many will often say that "Hair is just hair, it'll grow back", the issue can often run much deeper. Hair is not just hair, it's something that is a part of our being, like our laughs and our smiles. The hair loss associated with chemotherapy is a strong symbol of a cancer patient's plight. Before all this stuff happened to us, as someone viewing from the outside-in, I used to associate the hair-loss as a sign of frailty, sickness, and vulnerability. However, my perspective on the issue couldn't be any more different now. Now, whenever I see a patient suffering from chemotherapy-induced hair loss, I see it as a true sign of strength. This might sound a bit awkward, but I really do think that this image, this "symbol", is actually quite beautiful. To see someone fighting so hard and willing to do whatever it takes, it is a sign of bravery, strength, and perseverance. One that deserves a standing ovation. I don't usually send out messages that are so personal, but I thought that this was important.
My hopes are that, through this message, your views of the "typical" cancer patient will be changed (if you see them like I once did). That baldness, that fatigue, that struggle. It is something to be admired. These people are *literally* fighting to live, fighting for things that we take for granted every day. They are fighting for a walk in the park, a swim in the lake, a moment to laugh. They are putting every single ounce of their BEING into fighting off a terrifying beast, so much so that they have no energy left to eat, walk, or even talk. This courage and strength is something to be admired. So, without sounding too preach-ey, the next time you see a cancer patient, please keep this message in mind.
In conclusion, I leave you with this:
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.' So she did, and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she only had two hairs on her head. 'Hmmm,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.' So she did and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a ponytail.' So she did and she had a fun, fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head. 'YEAH!' she exclaimed, 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'
Health, Hope & Happiness my friends
Lance
Where to begin, where to begin… If you grew up in the 90’s, like me, you might know what I look like. Yes, that’s right, Krillin from DragonBall Z, minus the robes and muscles. Add in Will Smith ears and, now, a never-ending forehead (or in the words of Rihanna, “5head”), then VOILA!
Spitting. Image.
Two days ago, my family decided that it was time to shave my mom’s hair. To say that that was traumatic would be a small understatement. So yesterday, my brother and I shaved OUR heads to make mama bear feel better. Needless to say, hair is NOT just hair. Hair loss is a common side-effect of chemotherapy seen in cancer patients. Although many will often say that "Hair is just hair, it'll grow back", the issue can often run much deeper. Hair is not just hair, it's something that is a part of our being, like our laughs and our smiles. The hair loss associated with chemotherapy is a strong symbol of a cancer patient's plight. Before all this stuff happened to us, as someone viewing from the outside-in, I used to associate the hair-loss as a sign of frailty, sickness, and vulnerability. However, my perspective on the issue couldn't be any more different now. Now, whenever I see a patient suffering from chemotherapy-induced hair loss, I see it as a true sign of strength. This might sound a bit awkward, but I really do think that this image, this "symbol", is actually quite beautiful. To see someone fighting so hard and willing to do whatever it takes, it is a sign of bravery, strength, and perseverance. One that deserves a standing ovation. I don't usually send out messages that are so personal, but I thought that this was important.
My hopes are that, through this message, your views of the "typical" cancer patient will be changed (if you see them like I once did). That baldness, that fatigue, that struggle. It is something to be admired. These people are *literally* fighting to live, fighting for things that we take for granted every day. They are fighting for a walk in the park, a swim in the lake, a moment to laugh. They are putting every single ounce of their BEING into fighting off a terrifying beast, so much so that they have no energy left to eat, walk, or even talk. This courage and strength is something to be admired. So, without sounding too preach-ey, the next time you see a cancer patient, please keep this message in mind.
In conclusion, I leave you with this:
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.' So she did, and she had a wonderful day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she only had two hairs on her head. 'Hmmm,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.' So she did and she had a grand day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a ponytail.' So she did and she had a fun, fun day.
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head. 'YEAH!' she exclaimed, 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'
Health, Hope & Happiness my friends
Lance
If you've been following my blog, you'll recognize that a lot of that message mirrors a post I put up earlier titled "Standing Ovation". I think, if we can spread this message to as many people as possible (in this case, 970 members), we can start a shift in attitude that can result in more support and understanding. I have a fairly large platform of young (actually, all ages!) people that I can speak to, so why not take advantage of it?
As you know, my brother and I shaved our heads last night to help support my mom. A few observations:
1. I am almost positive I had more hair when I came out of the womb than I do now.
2. I cannot stop rubbing my head!!! It feels like a peach :)
3. It is shocking how much your hair does for your scalp! It's so sensitive now! And if I walk really fast, I can feel the wind on my head, and DANG is it cold!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Bald.
Shaved the head yesterday.
...
To say it was a little traumatizing would be a bit of an understatement.
It takes a little bit of adjusting, but I think these things just take a little bit of time to get used to.
Yesterday we packed all our clothes (like we were going on vacation or something!) and today we checked into our inpatient unit. It's been a long, busy, and heavy day. Right now, mama is hooked up to the IV machine for hydration therapy and will be until about 6pm tomorrow (it is now 830pm). The reason for this is because TOMORROW, she will be receiving the MEGA dose of chemo (Melphalan) to clear out her body. Apparently it is a tiny "push", but is potent enough to affect your taste buds for 6 months and give you mucositis. The half-life of melphalan is about 4 hours (?), so you want to get this out of your system A.S.A.P. (hence the hydration). So basically, mama bear will be forced to pee a LOT tomorrow. We do NOT want this chemo in her system. Get in, get out. She'll also be chewing on ice before, during, and after the administration of Melphalan. The reason for this is because, normally, you get mouth-sores (so bad that you have trouble breathing). What doctors discovered, though, that something as simple as chewing ice was enough to completely eliminate this very serious side effect from happening at all! What the ice does is it constricts the blood vessels in the mucus membranes of your mouth. Significance? The more constricted the blood vessel, the harder it is for the Melphalan to get circulated through that area. THEREFORE, ICE=GOOD!
Other than that, her room is MASSIVE. Its enough for two patients, but because of the unique circumstances of this ward (zero immune system), you aren't allowed to share your room with other people because of the risk of spreading germs, etc.
Tomorrow is a big day, will keep you updated.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Shed.
The hair has started to slowly fall out :(
JUST when we thought we were out of the clear...It has begun...
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Whirlwind
It is quite a profound experience to have to shop for scarves in preparation for chemotherapy-induced hair loss. It is inspirational. It is crippling. It is beautiful. It is tragic. And despite the months and months of treatment, the time you've had to prepare, one never actually thinks they'll see the day. And before you know it, the cold reality is right there staring in your face. Slap. The other day I went shopping with my mom for scarves to wrap around her head once she loses her hair. Let me tell you, a book should be written on how to wear those things, because it is practically an artfrom. What length do we get? How do you tie it? What materials work best? Finding a way to wrap the scarf itself, without looking like a fool, was difficult enough. Long story short... We decided to go with a hat instead :P. I have read that your scalp is actually much more sensitive than you think, that having hair makes a world of a difference when it comes to warmth and sensitivity. We decided to go for a nice, soft, and very warm rabbit fur touque. Thankfully, my mother's recovery time will be during the winter, so it will not be an odd sight to see.
Presently, I am in the waiting room of the radiology department. Today is the day that mama bear is getting her central line put in. Last night I experienced a small moment of weakness before eventually falling asleep. I think I am more scared and anxious about this procedure than my mom is. As many caregivers will discover, you will experience varying degrees of control over the course of treatment. Control is very important. It makes you feel like you are able to stand on solid ground, feet planted firmly. But sometimes, you feel like you have been picked up in a whirlwind of despair, anxiety, stress, etc. Being tossed about upside down, left, right, back, and forth, a complete loss of control. Last night's "whirlwind" stemmed from my...sadness for my mom. I try not to feel sorry for my mom, for my self, or for my family, because it does you no good. It prevents you from being able to think straight and act effectively. But sometimes, it happens. As a caregiver, all you want to do is protect. As my mother's son (or in other people's cases, as a son's mother/father), you try to protect with such a fierce passion that you are willing to do whatever it takes. If you could, you would share the burden, take the burden, in a heartbeat. But you can't... And that is the pain and the struggle of a caregiver. It is a constant tug-of-war between control and mayhem. My fear and my despair from last night stemmed not from the actual transplant procedure, but from the worry of how my mom was handling this. Everyday, no matter how bright the sun shines, my heart breaks. I worry about her. Worry, worry, worry. My heartache comes from the thought of her fear. It is like if you saw an abandoned child on the street. Your first wave of worry is not about the living conditions, the hygiene, etc. It is about how the child is coping and able to draw the strength and will to survive. Seeing my mom's strength is inspiring, but it also breaks my heart. The fact that she even HAS to draw so much strength from god knows where, makes me both sad and proud. It is a hard experience to describe. But I guess it is what it is, and all you can do is learn how to adapt and stay strong. Wish us luck.
**Update** All went well! The transplant nurse was right, a CVC (Central Venous Catheter) insertion is MUCH less painful than a bone marrow biopsy. So if you can handle the biopsy, the CVC should be a cake walk for you ;)
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
Monday, July 12, 2010
On Our Own Terms.
Mama bear be gettin' her hair did THIS.INSTANT!
So to prepare for the hair-loss, we figured that it would probably be easier and a LOT less traumatic if we cut my mom's hair before she lost it. Not buzz short, just yet, but in gradual stages to ease her in. So, first stage, she's going from shoulder-length to something similar to the late Heath Ledger's ex-wife, Michelle Williams. Eventually, we will have to cut it all off, but we're taking our time. No need to rush the gun. What I like about this, though, is that she is losing her hair on her OWN terms. Cancer will NOT determine how we live our lives. No one, or noTHING, is forcing her to do this right now except herself. And she is ready to take that step. So bravo mama!
If you haven't read my previous post on hair-loss, please view it here. I will mention this now and many times in the future because I really do think a new attitude must be embraced in regards to this universal symbol of cancer. Repetition is key, and I encourage you to try and inspire others to think differently.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Standing Ovation
Also,
Another member of the ListServ posted this earlier today. I love it!
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.' So she did, and she had a wonderful day. The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she only had two hairs on her head. 'Hmmm,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.' So she did and she had a grand day. The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. 'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a ponytail.' So she did and she had a fun, fun day. The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head. 'YEAH!' she exclaimed, 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'Attitude is Everything!
Hair loss is a common side-effect of chemotherapy seen in cancer patients. Although many will often say that "Hair is just hair, it'll grow back", the issue can often run much deeper. Hair is not just hair, it's something that is a part of our personality, like our laughs and our smiles. The hair loss associated with chemotherapy is a strong symbol of a cancer patient's plight. Because momma bear is due for a stem cell transplant sometime in the summer, this is an issue that I have been thinking of quite frequently. Before all this stuff happened to us, as someone viewing from the outside-in, I used to associate the hair-loss as a sign of frailty and sickness. However, my perspective on the issue couldn't be any more different now. Now, whenever I see a patient suffering from chemotherapy-induced hair-loss, I see it as a true sign of strength. This might sound a bit awkward, but I really do think that this image, this "symbol", is actually quite beautiful. To see someone fighting so hard and willing to do whatever it takes, it is a sign of bravery, strength, and perseverance. One that deserves a standing ovation.
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