The following is a guest post by friend and garden writer, Jenny Peterson. You can find Jenny on her blog, J Peterson Garden Design or as the Southwest Garden Guru for Proven Winners. Tune in tomorrow for Jenny's Top Ten Tips for Coping with Changes from Chronic Illness.
2012 was gearing up to be a fairly spectacular year. I started talks with a publisher about writing my
first garden book, I got engaged to my long-time sweetheart (Brett) and moved in with him. My boys were doing well and I was looking forward to really focusing on my landscape design business after taking some hits from the Texas ’11 drought and heat. Then, as what usually happens, Life had a different idea. Three weeks after moving into Brett’s house, I began a fairly long process of diagnosis for breast cancer.
No one was more surprised than I was — I’m a pretty healthy eater, fairly active and in good shape. Proof that cancer doesn’t really care about such trivialities. There will be many more blog posts to come about the infinite number of facets to living with cancer and living through treatment, but today it’s all about the hair. In fact, the day I was diagnosed, I cried for a couple of hours and then announced to Brett, “Get me a glass of wine. I’ll be in the bathroom flat-ironing my hair.” After all, just because I felt like crap didn’t mean I should look like it, right? I’m a Southern girl — aliens could be dive-bombing my neighborhood, but my hair and nails will look good going down with the ship.
My oncologist told me to expect total hair loss between 2-3 weeks after my first chemo treatment. I had long blond hair that I loved, and losing my hair did not seem appealing to me in the least. Plus, I meet with design clients and I wasn’t sure how to do that if I was bald. I wanted to look healthy and inspire confidence in my clients, not give them reason to question my abilities. And I wanted some semblance of normalcy in the midst of a pretty traumatic time.
So here’s what I did:
- One week before starting chemo, I cut my hair off into a pixie cut. My friend, Kylee, made the suggestion. “You’ll be more in control of the process,” she said. She was right.
- I took my cut-off ponytail into the wig shop to choose a wig. They used my hair to color-match as closely as possible. My friend, Terri, took me and then we had lunch together — another girls-only day that I treasured.
- Two weeks after chemo, I met my family at a salon where I had my pixie cut shorn off into a #2 buzz cut. I kind of liked it. My whole family was there, videoing the process and drinking wine. Hey, I can’t stop the process, but at least I can mark it with determination and a good glass of cabernet.
- When I felt my stubbly hair really falling out a week later in the shower, I had Brett come into the bathroom to shave it clean. Trust me, you don’t want to walk around looking like a baby chicken sprouting feathers. Hair doesn’t fall out in a neat and clean pattern — it was very inconsistent and odd-looking. Better to take it all off.
My type of chemo made the hair on my head (and other parts of my body) fall out, but my eyebrows and eyelashes remained full. Every type of chemo is different; ask your doctor what to expect from yours.
It’s been 7 months since my diagnosis. I’m done with chemo and almost done with radiation. I’m still bald, but my hair seems to be growing back in now. I wear my wig most days, and other days I’m all about the awesome scarf or doo-rag; it depends upon what I’m doing and how I feel. I’m not gonna lie — I hate having cancer, and losing your hair sucks. Hair loss affects a woman’s sense of femininity and attractiveness, but it’s also an opportunity to reinterpret your beauty in a newer, fiercer way. I look in the mirror most days and see a woman who has no hair, who hangs pretty tough and who knows that this is temporary. If you are facing cancer, chemo and losing your hair, take a deep breath — you can do this. You can get through this. I am, and so will you.
Good for you on coming clean--and for sharing what you've learned. It's cathartic, isn't it? And that wig is fantastic!
Wishing you well!
Posted by: Pamela @RedWhiteandGrew | 12/13/2012 at 10:56 AM
Inspiring courage!
Posted by: Charlotte Germane | 12/13/2012 at 10:59 AM
That was beautifully written my friend. Hair loss is not trivial.
Posted by: Dee/reddirtramblings | 12/13/2012 at 11:51 AM
Wow--just, wow!! You are inspiring!!
Posted by: Kerrie | 12/13/2012 at 12:27 PM
thank you so much for being honest and most of all inspiring and uplifting. you rock!
Posted by: Jennie B | 12/13/2012 at 12:32 PM
You've inspired me today. Thanks, Jenny.
Posted by: Genevieve | 12/13/2012 at 12:32 PM
What an amazing story, Jenny. Thanks so much for sharing your experiences. You still look gorgeous. Take good care, and know I'm thinking of you. Teresa
Posted by: Teresa | 12/13/2012 at 01:20 PM
Thanks, everyone, for your kind words. Hair loss is traumatic, and can feel like you're getting kicked when you're already down. Everyone deals with it in their own way, and I am thankful that Jean Ann invited me to share my experience--I hope it helps someone else who is dealing with this, too.
Posted by: Jenny Nybro Peterson | 12/13/2012 at 01:50 PM
I am so inspired by your strength and humor in the face of a scary diagnosis, Jenny. Thank you for sharing your story!
Posted by: Pam/Digging | 12/13/2012 at 02:09 PM
You guys are amazing for supporting Jenny! She is inspiring and strong and beautiful!
Posted by: Jean Ann Van Krevelen | 12/13/2012 at 05:05 PM
Oh Jenny! I'm so proud of how awesomely strong you are. And believe me, you are even MORE beautiful now, as if that is at all possible. My brightest thoughts and intense admiration are with you. And yes, no matter what - it's always about the hair; but I LOVE a sexy woman with a buzz cut!!!
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Posted by: Ivette Soler | 12/13/2012 at 05:27 PM
Jenny, I've learned so much from you, while sharing the gift of your friendship during such a stressful time in your life. You have faced this thing with such grace and strength, while keeping it real. I wish you didn't have to deal with any of this AT ALL, but you have done it better than anyone I know. I've treasured our times together this year and love that we both kept that "divine appointment" that brought us together nearly three years ago. I love you!
Posted by: Kylee | 12/13/2012 at 06:39 PM
Thank you for this - I can soooo relate. I have stage 3c ovarian cancer and it's been a hellish ride. I had 8 rounds of chemo and 2 surgeries in 7 months - with my chemo drugs being taxol and carboplatinum. Which means that I lost my hair also. It wasn't so much the vanity-aspect of losing my crazy wild and curly mane, it was the impact of looking in the mirror each day and thinking holy crap, I guess it's true that I'm really sick. At one point a friend told me about an organization that does henna tattoos on chemo patients' heads - "henna crowns", they call them - and I got one! And was subsequently in an msnbc.com article about them. Here's a link to my blog: http://ovariancancer3c.wordpress.com and here's the msnbc article http://todayhealth.today.com/_news/2012/05/24/11747097-after-chemo-hair-loss-henna-crowns-help-heal?lite
God, it sucks, it truly does. Hang in there. And thanks again for your post.
Posted by: diane | 12/13/2012 at 07:54 PM
Oh wow, Diane--that is INCREDIBLE! Now I'm a little sad I didn't do this while my head was completely bald! I have peach fuzz sprouting right now (about 1/8 to 1/4"). I did briefly consider getting a small head tattoo but never followed through on it. Best wishes to you, Diane--I know it's hard, and my thoughts are with you.
Posted by: Jenny Nybro Peterson | 12/13/2012 at 09:20 PM
And thank you, Kylee and Ivette and all you other wonderful women--your encouragement and support is just priceless to me.
Posted by: Jenny Nybro Peterson | 12/13/2012 at 09:22 PM
Jenny, you are one tough lady, not only to have shared this, but also not to have burst into tears when I made such a big deal about how a blond ponytail is so YOU, when I saw you in Seattle in February. That must have been like listening to nails on a blackboard. ;+(
Anyway, I love that you took control and went super short all on your own, as a preemptive strike. And that you had your hair made into a wig. And especially that you saw this an opportunity to "interpret your beauty in a newer, fiercer way." Yes indeed, exactly that!
Posted by: Debra Lee Baldwin | 12/13/2012 at 09:25 PM
Thank you so much, Jean Ann!
Posted by: Jenny Nybro Peterson | 12/13/2012 at 09:37 PM via Facebook
Jenny - you're such an inspiration. I'll never forget how you ROCKED your wig in Tucson fooling everyone! Your strength, honesty, humor, beauty (both inside and out) are just part of what makes you such an incredible woman and I'm lucky to call you my friend. XOXO
Posted by: Rebecca Sweet | 12/14/2012 at 10:05 AM
:::internet hugs::: when my MIL started to get back hair after the chemo, she was giddy like a little kid. She'd walk around and tell people to touch her head. :-)
Posted by: katina | 12/15/2012 at 10:16 PM
Wow Jenny - I'm so inspired by the way you've handled the whole thing. Love that Brett has supported you with matching buzz cut. You're a great role model for others and I'm so glad you're coming out the other side of this. Lots of love to you xx
Posted by: Rachel Mathews | 12/17/2012 at 10:55 AM
Once again--I want to really thank everyone for being so thoughtful to leave comments that are so uplifting. There are SO many women going through this, and while I really don't want to be in this particular club, I'm honored to share it with such courageous people.
Posted by: Jenny Nybro Peterson | 12/19/2012 at 10:40 PM
I just left a message on your FB wall...I just think you're the epitome of strength, beauty, and grace.
Posted by: Chris McLaughlin | 12/30/2012 at 08:23 PM