If you go in to the hairdresser's on the first of April and she says,"So, just a trim today?" and you say, "Nope. Shave the whole thing down to the nub," she'll say, "This is a joke, right?" Nope.
My hair's been falling out for the past few days. You can tell where I've been by the drift of white and gray filaments in my wake. The cats are envious: a mere human shouldn't be able to shed like that. More annoying than the untidiness of it, though, is the fascination of being able to yank and have a handful come out. I found myself sitting and pulling mindlessly.
So today was the day. Jerry had to go back over my head with a razor after I came back from the hairdresser's. She'd left the kind of stubble that is (I think) still fashionable on young men's chins, but we were going for the billiard ball effect, which I think we finally achieved.
I have several reactions to this whole thing. First, I've been through it all before. No big deal. Maybe it will grow back in fluffy curls like the last time. Meanwhile, I have a couple of great hats made by my own personal milliner, plus several scarves.
Also, in the larger scheme of things, this is nothing. If the worst I have to deal with is a cold scalp, I'm luckier than most people.
But. But. Suddenly I'm identifiable as a Cancer Patient. I am visibly different, the Other, and I this bothers me more than I expected. It's one thing to get expressions of love and concern from the people close to me; it's something else to see the flicker in the eyes of strangers as they look at my head.
Okay, so I could wear a wig, but I refuse to do that. It's only now as I sort through this that I suspect the reason is that for me, wearing a wig would be the ultimate denial. It would be as though I were hiding the fact that I have cancer even from myself. So that leaves it that I just want to hide it from total strangers. Which now that I've thought about it seems just plain silly.
While I'm clearly not a poet, this expresses my overarching feeling about hair loss:
Trees release their leaves,
Send them as messengers to the world:
Say, deal with the cold, the pain, the emptiness.
Your reward is spring, new leaves, new life.
Gekkos drop their tails,
Confuse persuing predators:
You can't catch me, stripped down for action.
You can't catch me, stripped down for action.
I'll escape, regenerate, renew.
My hair falls out in handfuls,
Litters the floor, blows into corners.
My cold and naked scalp proclaims:
I will survive. Await my spring.
6 comments:
Hi Lucie - this is your niece Holly here - I think you look fabulous with your head shaved. I had to shave my head once for a play I was in and it was a fascinating thing to go through as far how we are perceived in society when we have no hair (as women I should say as it is quite different for a man). I've been following your blog every day and I have to say you are quite the inspiration to me. I'm so grateful that you are writing it. Your humor, bravery and courage and wit makes me want to embrace each moment of this life.
Clearly not a poet? Wrong!
The poem is beautiful -- and so are you.
I saw one of my favorite groups -- Saffire the Uppity Blues Women -- at the Iron Horse in Northampton not long ago. They sang a new song they had written in honor of a friend who was a cancer survivor. (She also was at the concert.) The gist of the song was "If you don't love me bald, you never loved me at all." The place went wild. I think there's no one who can't relate to this, if not in their own experience, then through the experiences of other women they love and care about.
Lucie;
You look really good! And what a great smile to go with the new do! I think I would've done the same, shaved it off. Bravo for you! And I suspect you'll get used to the strangers' looks soon enough.
Now I guess you are going to have to mow it once in awhile. Spurious tufts of hair coming up willy nilly doesn't sound like a style statement.
But this new look you can really carry off. Enjoyed the poem.
And I have to second what hab wrote, about you being an inspiration. Wow. Really.
You're beautiful, hair or not. Without hair, your features are striking. With hair, your soft silver curls frame your face. Basically, you can't go wrong either way.
Lucie, few people can pull off this look... The people who come immediately to mind are African American male athletes. But somehow you did it. Your facial features are gorgeous and you look just plain gutsy. I'm looking forward to seeing your new headscarves, too! I loved your post on Judaism, Chrisianity, and Islam... laugh out loud funny in parts. Cancer sure isn't hurting your sense of humor! ... And the poem you wrote was beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with us. Heather
Hi, Mrs. Germer. This is Ale, from Brazil. My host mother sent me your blog, and I'm very glad to keep in touch with you. May God be with you in these moments, and may He keep your great sense of humor, that I always admired. I thought of you quite a lot in the past 6 years, you're really one of those persons that touched my life in a special way. I got married last year. My husband and I gratuated in Law School last year too and we´re both working in my father office. No kids so far, they will have to wait a couple of years. I loved the green bananas and the coffee. I always remember you trying to explain me why the expression "wake up and smell the coffee" didn't mean something plesant.Still doesn't make much sense for me. Much Love,
Ale
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