Here's me in my bald glory. I may have not won the genetic lottery as far as cancer goes, but I did luck out with a well-shapen head. We didn't go shiny bald, as I've started chemo and my skin is already feeling pretty sensitive, but we got pretty darn close.
A huge thank you to my hairdresser, Sherry, and today's entourage - George Smeltzer, Bret Taylor and Patti Catroppa. After the big shave, hubby, friends and I headed for Granville Island, where I purchased a new cap at Edie Hats. The breeze feels pretty awesome on my head, but it can get cold, so I thought a new hat was in order.
Why I cut it offA few people asked me after my last post if I was certain I wanted to go this route, and I gave them an emphatic yes. Enough of my life is now beyond my control because of breast cancer. I can control my hair. And if what little I have left doesn't fall out, it will grow back.
I met Sherry, a fellow warrior who has beaten cancer to a pulp, early in my diagnosis. She cut my hair shortly after my surgery and mentioned that if I found out I was going to lose my hair, she'd be happy to shave it for me.
I pretty much decided then that I would rather be spared the experience of waking up with my hair detached like some sort of dead animal on my pillow. She was the first person I called when I found out I had to do chemo.