That Hair Thing

Three years ago I shaved my head. It wasn’t for shock value; I had cancer. I had made the decision to shave my head before the chemo drugs made it fall out. I didn’t want to lose clumps of hair around the house. That was the method my mom chose when she had chemo. I wanted to face baldness straight on.

My oncologist had told me to expect my hair to begin falling out around day 18 after my first chemo treatment. I counted each day diligently until I arrived at day 18. I knew it was coming. What anticipation I had to “dare” my hair to fall out. “I’ll be the lucky one and not lose one hair,” I thought foolishly to myself.

Sure enough it happened. Day 18 in the shower, a clump came out. Darn. That evening, I planned to shave it all off. I needed the support of my daughters to be in the home with me. I could not do this alone. I would use the grooming kit we had bought for our two Shih Tzus.

I’ll never forget the feeling of taking that first swipe across my head. I was full of emotion. I thought of Britney Spears and how 5 years earlier she had shaved her head. This was different. Either I would shave my head or let chemo have its way. I wanted to win and just be in control of something.

My hair had been my glory. For years, stylists had commented on how thick my hair was or how much hair I had. It was one of my finest features. I spent hundreds of dollars keeping it coifed and colored. Let’s face it. My hair was a hobby.

God knew I needed a little humility. I was vain about my hair. I needed a reality check so I could have compassion. I needed a reason to turn to God and acknowledge He was in control of my life. I needed poverty of spirit to detach from this crown of glory.

Being bald in the winter time in Kansas humbled me. Being bald also screamed to the world “I have cancer.” Being bald was a good lesson for me. It forced me to face my own mortality and my vanity. It gave me compassion. It helped me realize it’s what’s inside my heart that counts; not what’s on my head.

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This is me with my friend Amy on the day she had her head shaved. We were both undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer.

I went proudly to the rest of my chemo treatments as a bald patient. We were all bald together and it was affirming to be in unity with other cancer patients. We were getting chemo so we could have a chance to survive. Our hair was the least of our worries.

In the end, it was an honor to be bald and not have a covering for my head. I learned to be more transparent and not hide behind my hair. The time with no hair was transforming for me. It put things in perspective especially when a friend asked me to join her when she shaved her head. I understood.

1 Corinthians 11:15 “but if a woman has long hair, it is a glory to her? For her hair is given to her for a covering.”

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