68. Operation Rapunzel

When I phoned the doctors surgery in May of last year after putting off the neck lump for nearly 8 months, I was already convinced I had cancer. In the early days I had conversations with the lump in my head and just knew it was going to be more than I wanted to deal with, even it might be too late to do anything at all. The following month, I'd already made the decision when I had my usual 'treat' yourself hair dressers appointment , which actually was never a treat, because it freaked me out, put me totally out of my comfort zone and I hated having to be sat in a chair and try to be normal and not get up and go home!

Luckily I had found a 1-2-1 salon, so it was only ever me and the hairdresser, so most times I coped pretty well with the experience, but it definitely took some forward mental prep and some serious recovery down time after. So in the June appointment I had all my lovely long hair cut off. I made out I was just having a change, I was too old, it was too hot for silly long hair. No one commented much and I pretended hard to anyone who asks that it was what I wanted. Everyday for months, I cried when I happened to see myself in the mirror. I hated not having my hair. And not for the reasons usually women don't like having long hair cut off. All my life, plagued with social anxiety and panic attacks my hair had been my emotional support tool. Anyone who suffers from social phobia will know long hair to twiddle and hide behind, and a good set of sunglasses are sometimes the only thing that get you through a bad day when you have to go out and face the enemy! Cutting off my hair was like taking me off anti depressants, I'd stripped myself of one of my coping tools, and I'd done it knowingly and deliberately. Convinced I'd lose my hair with cancer treatment I couldn't face it falling out in hand falls in the shower, patchy bald spots appearing and then having to do the 'shave'!!!!

I talked myself into the fact that if I cut it short, it wouldn't seem so drastic, I'd, and everyone else watching , would cope better, I wouldn't look so 'cancer'ish' ', it wouldn't be so scary.

When I got diagnosed I tried to console myself I'd made the right decision, but as the consultations came along, it was brought to my attention about the hair loss and it probably would be minimal, only a patch at the back of head at the hair line where the radiotherapy waves exited the back of skull. This nearly broke me. I knew I was going to have to face the hospital, the treatment, be out in a place that scared me daily, around people who I was extremely uncomfortable being around, and I could have still kept my hair, my comfort blanket, and I'd cut it all off.

I hated who stared back at me in the mirror, not only wasn't it me, the fear in my face, in my eyes. It was living a nightmare in someone else's body, someone else's face.

I make it a priority to do my crying in the bath! Its hot, my face and hair is wet most times, and if caught easily explained.

But there just weren't enough baths! Slowly over the months my hair has grown back and is just resting on my shoulders now, apart from the bald patch I did get on one side at the hair line like they explained I would, and with treatment fading, side effects slowly getting easier most days, I have been looking for me in the mirror again. Some days just showered, hair soft freshly washed and dried fluffy I'm back, and I'm smiling again, the hope that very soon my armour of hair to hide behind and fiddle with, and a pair of sunglasses will be my trusty emotional support friends in the big bad world once again. But it will take probably another year until its as long at it was , if it ever actually grows back that long again. So I decided to cheat!

I deserve a little slack don't you think? Knowing the holiday that's coming has elements of huge anxiety for me I need my 'sword and shield' now.

Today I went to see Jenny, a lovely girl, who did nothing but make me feel special, brave, pampered and worthy of just 'liking my reflection again'. Hair extensions would definitely not be in my normal realms of reality, in my eyes, for the young, vain, and maybe people on reality TV programmes, but hey, my life the last few months haven't really been my normal reality, more of a horror box set! So I'm sitting here with the longest hair I think I have ever had since I was a teenager, and I feel terrific. I looked in the mirror when she was fitting them today and for the first time in months I didn't hate myself, I didn't want to quickly look away and not see myself for too long... I didn't see the cropped haired, tired, frightened face of someone that used to me, I saw me again, for the first time in months.. again my eyes shone back for me. Today I felt like its not the end of me, and I'm slowly coming back. Thank you Jenny and all your pinkness. xxx