I am not my hair… (11/6/2013)

 

I am not my hair…

 

 

 

November 6, 2013

            My mother, the lover of glorious long hair has three daughters.  To my Mom’s dismay, all three of us have lived for countless years with hair cut quite short.  I have never been infatuated with my hair.  I’ve been blessed with hair that is fine and soft, not thick and luxurious.  It’s natural and wash-and-wear for me.  No problem!

            This past weekend Gilbert cleaned the bathroom.  I step into a sparkling tub and four minutes into my glorious shower I’m muttering under my breath.  How can Gilbert clean up and leave hair all over the place.  I adjust the showerhead to rinse it away… but there’s more… and more… and even more.  I’m shocked to realize the process has begun… and… I. freak. out.  Chemotherapy and I are good friends.  We’re on a first name basis.  I know the results of chemo.  I was told the effects of chemo… yet, when I see the hair swirling around the drain it hits me like a sledgehammer.  I don’t know if I can handle this.  “…Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

            Forget about what I know and what I expect.  It all flies out the window.  I am truly freaking out here.  I jump out of the shower and call Gilbert.  “It’s okay!” he reassures me.  “Are you ready to shave it all off?”  I have yet to answer his question.  I’m confused about why I’m feeling this way because my hair has been one-eighth of an inch long for years.  How do I know?  After spending two hours at the barber shop a few years ago, I had hubby purchase an electric thingamajiggy for me and I use the one-eighth inch attachment.

            This is my chemo “off” week, so to quote Jenny, who has conquered her own battles, “I feel like a million dollars.”  Hubby and I head out to shop for the things I may need next week.  In the car, on our way home the heavy weight of my hair finally breaks me down.  The floodgates were opened previously for the pain, but never for the circumstance.  It’s an ugly cry that’s probably been months coming.  I see the helplessness on Gilbert’s face as he tries to comfort me.  He can’t do much but hold my hand as he drives and I cry.  The tears are filled with the weeks of recovery, the diagnosis, the abandonment by close family who can’t deal with it, the days of radiation, my good friend chemo and how my head will look like a person with ringworm.  The hair loss is not like taking off a wig… it’s a gradual process.  Every day more falls out in the shower.  Trust my sister to see the positive side.  As she says, “That’s great, no more shaving!”

            “Are you ready to shave it all off?”  I know I am. 

            The Daily Bread says, “Our circumstances never stay the same for long.  Sometimes we welcome change in our lives.  But often it is difficult, especially when it involves sorrow and loss.”  I am thankful though, that God remains the same – he loves me and holds me in the palm of his hand, with or without hair.  “I am the Lord, I do not change.”  Malachi 3:6

Love,

Charmaine Yvette

P.S. Don’t be surprised if you get a newsflash of Tina Turner or Angela Davis walking through Times Square – it’s me!!