After two courses of Idarubicin (chemo,) my hair hadn't yet fallen out... yes, it had thinned, but there was still a substantial amount attached to my head and anybody who hadn't met me before would have thought that that was my normal amount of hair. My third course of chemo changed all of that. It was a drug called Mitoxantrone, a funky Sonic the Hedgehog blue in colour and I was given that, like my previous courses, intravenously.
A week or so after I'd' had my last dose of Mitoxantrone and my levels were pretty much in a 'safe' zone my Dad came to collect me to take me home. I heard him come into the room whilst I was in the bathroom, I'd locked myself away and had been standing looking into the mirror, slowly running the brush through my hair for about 10 minutes. I'd found a bald patch at the back of my head and my hair that should have been there was now scattered on the floor and firmly lodged in my hairbrush, I unlocked the door with tears rolling down my face and Dad came over to give me a hug. He collected up my hair from the floor and then put it in a bag to take home... "You can show it to your Mother when we get back... we can always stick it back on your head with a bit of glue!" Haha, one thing about my Dad is that after a sympathetic hug, it is normally always followed by a joke or a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood and admittedly, it did make me laugh!
I have always loved my hair, it was part of me (obviously, being attached to my head) and changing the colour and style of it now and then is what (I thought) made me, well, me!
Up until now, my hair has had a very colourful life! My natural colour is a mousey brown, but as you can see it has been brown, dark brown, black and blonde and it's had highlights, bits of blue, bits of pink and bits of red here and there. So when it started falling out I was devastated. It got to the stage where the majority of it had come out, I was left with a massive monk style bald patch on my head and I was crying every time I washed or brushed my hair.
On the 25th September I decided enough was enough and took the rest of it off. (That and the fact my Mum had said I now reminded her of 'that man from Little Britain' aka Matt Lucas... thank you Mother! Haha!) So off it all came. There is no way you can prevent your hair from falling out due to chemo. If it's going to come out, it's going to come out and I was nowhere near ready to deal with it. I cried a lot. Every time I brushed my hair, I cried. Every time I washed my hair, I cried. Every time I looked in the mirror and saw myself, I cried. In my eyes and in my mind I was falling apart, the worst bit was, I could see that I was falling apart, but there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.
My hair has grown a fair amount since September, my sister has now nicknamed me 'Hedgehog' because it's so soft and sticks up where I've been sleeping on it. She said when it gets even longer I will have reached a 'Porcupine' stage of hair growth! My brother on the other hand, returned home from work and greeted me with a "Haha! How's Dennis the Menace doing?" I'd like to think that I don't resemble a spikey haired, trouble making cartoon character, but he seems intent on making his nickname for me stick... I do however have THE nicest wig for the days when I just can't bare looking at it, which I shall give you all the details for in my next post! There is no easy way to deal with losing your hair when having Chemo, but stay strong and keep smiling! It WILL grow back. xx