Summer is here in Canada; well, officially, it will be here in another week or so, but it's starting to feel like Summer, which to me means it's here. I love the warmer weather, and I love the smells and sights of Summer. The grasses are green, the flowers are in bloom, and we can leave our windows wide open at night and feel the gentle breezes waft in all the smells of fresh cut lawns and barbecues.
Being a cancer survivor, there are some things I used to live for doing in the Summer that I no longer can allow myself to indulge in. Gone are the days of going to the beach slathered in tanning lotion, turning myself at least a good 6 shades darker than my natural color in just a few days. Now I find myself wearing SPF 35 sunscreen to take a simple walk. That is fine; a small price to pay for keeping my health. Besides, I'm learning the benefits of self-tanners. I tell myself that in another 20 years, when all my friends look like old pieces of leather, my skin will still be baby soft. (It's the small comforts that help. :P)
Also gone are the casual comforts of summer. It's been over a year since my last radiation treatment, yet I'm still waiting for that lush, thick head of hair that I was told comes after having chemo. My hair has not been so kind to me. It IS growing back, don't get me
wrong, but my hair is stuck in the toddler phase of being fine and
willowy. (I even went so far as to purchase a "beauty spell" from an Ebay Genie, asking her to please make my hair grow back thick and lush and beautiful. Laugh at me if you will, but it only cost me $5.95, and I believe in the supernatural.) Not to complain (even though I am complaining), I am grateful to have my hair growing back, and I am grateful to be alive. There are more important things in life than hair. My family, my health, my friends, are all great reasons that I can think of and name. The thing that sometimes gets me a bit down, is remembering a few years ago, in the summer, just being able to put my hair into a ponytail and not having to worry about how it looks. Nowadays, I wear my wig at any and all times when I am out of the house, or even when company visits. There are few people that I feel comfortable showing my "real" hair to.
I remember a year or so before I got sick; my hair started thinning, and eventually got quite noticeable. My ponytail was down to about less than half it's original size, and eventually less than a third of that. At the time, not knowing that I was sick, I thought it was due to the stress of working a job that I dreaded going to, my poor diet, possibly thyroid problems (which run in my family), or a result of the years of abuse I had put my hair through since the age of 15. I had bleached my hair many times (bleaching to the roots of my hair, a huge NO-NO!), coloring my hair two or three times a month, and many other hair sins that would make any hairdresser cringe and scold me. I kind of thought at the time that my hair was punishing me for years of neglect and abuse. (Side note- if anyone out there has had chemo, and your hair is growing back, do not bleach it or color it for at least a year. My doctor told me it could lead your new hair to fall out, this time permanently!)
When I finally learned that I had cancer, my doctor told me that my hair loss was a visible symptom that my body had been fighting an unknown illness for so long. The hair is actually one of the first places that your body shows visible signs of ill health, and it can signal a number of illnesses. I had been sick for well over a year, constantly exhausted and feeling as though I were depressed or had mono, and had no clue that the reason was because my body was trying to fight cancer.
After my first chemo treatment, I remember standing in front of my bathroom mirror, "pulling a GI Jane," as I called it, shaving my head with the buzz clippers. It was so empowering, and so freeing. I still have my ponytail that I cut off before shaving down the rest of my head. I wore my wig with confidence. At the time, I didn't feel self-conscious about wearing a wig. I was going through cancer treatments, and wearing a wig felt like a natural part of the process. Now, almost two years after my first chemo treatment, wearing a wig feels like I am still "the cancer patient." I want to get past that image of myself as being sick. I am recovered now, and I want my outward appearance to reflect it. As shallow and superficial as that may be, it is how I feel inside my heart.
I know there are so many more important things in life than hair, and appearances. However, as a woman in North America, and more specifically as a woman working in the Beauty Industry, I realize how so much of how we perceive ourselves and those around us revolves around appearances. I know it's not right, or fair, but how often is life right or fair? It is a sign of the culture that we live in. And I am a product of that culture.
I suppose a simple solution to the discomfort of wearing a wig in summer would be to wear a scarf or hat. Those are viable options, but I've always had long hair, and I feel it adds to my sense of femininity. Around the house, yes, I will wear a scarf or hat. But at work, or out on the town, I will suffer for my vanity.Also, I do not like the feeling of having strangers look on me with pity because I had cancer. It's not that I am ashamed of having cancer, quite the opposite, I am very proud of what I have overcome. It's more the fact that I don't want people to pity me, when I feel there is no reason to pity myself. (Although this post may sound like a pity party, I don't intend it to. I am more just rambling to myself trying to make sense of how I feel and why I feel this way.)
~On a more positive note, the great thing about wearing a wig, is that I can actually take my hair off when it gets too hot to handle! I also don't have to worry about bad hair days or frizzies, or spending long hours straightening my hair.~
So for now, I am going to continue wearing my itchy sweaty wig, lol, and I am going to wear it with pride.
