Putting on my 'brows

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day sans makeup and nearly screamed.

When I first realized I might lose my eyebrows months ago, I thought I might try a Carol-Burnett-does-Nora-Desmond look.

I mean, if one is going to lose one's 'brows, why not have fun with it?

With eyebrows on my mind, I thought I would share some 'brow-related humour with you today.

Uncle Leo

One day at the office, I was talking about the whole eyebrow situation. My colleague Dragos warned me to be careful, or I could end up looking like Uncle Leo from Seinfeld.

Milhouse

Milhouse from The Simpsons has eyebrows that constantly get him into trouble.

Real-life crazy 'brows

Of course, a post about eyebrows couldn't omit this fabulous shot of Carrot Top, found on Sodahead. The page even opens with the photo's code underneath the image. Clearly, this is an image for sharing.

carrot top+eyebrows pics on Sodahead

A letter to my fingernails

Worst fingernail is the
middle one. Coincidence?
© kittelberg writes

Dear fingernails, eyelashes, eyebrows,

Evidently, you didn't get the memo. I've completed chemo, four weeks ago in fact. My hair did get it and somehow I thought you were included, or at least cc'd with my medical update.

This means you, fingernails, can stop turning yellow and threatening to fall off.

I've been diligently clipping you short and wearing fancy rubber gloves while washing dishes. I get that you haven't felt up to par, particularly on the right side where my chemo IV went in.

But last night, one of you on the left side decided to try to sneak off while I was unplugging the bathtub. Really? What more do you want from me?

Sans makeup.
© kittelberg writes

With makeup.
© kittelberg writes

While we're at it, lashes and brows, feel free to start growing back any time. I get that you've gotten used to falling out over the past couple of months. But frankly, you're cramping my style. You're making me look like a cancer patient as I near the end of treatment with just 16 radiation sessions to go.

Luckily, my dear friend and Juggernauts teammate Chrissy bought me Quo's Must Have Brows kit before brows began evacuating the premises.

With the help of the fantastic Look Good Feel Better volunteers, I learned how to fill in my brows and not look like a drag queen. (No disrespect to drag queens, just not the look I go for in the daytime!)

The head takes the lead.
© kittelberg writes

The Look Good Feel Better makeup artists also taught me how to apply eyeliner to avoid unneeded tugging on delicate lashes, and to fill in the empty spaces to give the illusion of having a full set of lashes.

So, fingernails, brows and lashes, it's not me, it's you. Stop being stubborn, and follow the lead of your associate on the top of my head who is making a comeback as evidenced by the peach fuzz on my pate.

Sincerely,

Lori

Operation fuck kancer: Bald on my terms

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 off

A 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.

Sweet liberation

As a woman, my hair has certainly played a role in my life. Cutting, growing, dying, braiding, curling, perming, flat-ironing. I worried this morning that I might cry when it was shaved off, thinking of what I was losing. Instead, I felt liberated. When it comes back, I will be healthy. And I will be a new me.