I didn’t want to lose my hair but now that it’s mostly gone, I just want a smooth head without a trace of hair on it. Right now I have a little stubble and it’s quite annoying. I can feel it under my hats and when I sleep. It’s slowly falling out — but not quickly enough. I hesitate to use a regular razor to smooth it out because I don’t want to cut my head in any way — any sort of cut could result in an infection due to the chemo. So when I take a shower, I rub my head in every possible direction to cause the hair to fall out. It works — my hands are covered with little hairs each time I look at them — but still, I have traces of stubble and I now realize how thick my hair was.
I had no idea how long it would take for my hair to actually fall out. Maybe it’s a long process to allow for adjustment. First, I had to deal with thinning hair and a mess all over my bathroom counter. Then I had the trauma of shaving it all off. Now I have the hassle of stubble. Next, I’ll have a completely smooth head — and in an odd way, I’ll be happy for it. It will be the lesser of all the evils, and I will be closer to getting my hair back than I have been with any other step in the process.
Speaking of hair, I had a friend come over today for a haircut. I had not seen her in a long time — so long that she did not know of my breast cancer. As I was cutting her hair, Joey said to her, “Did you know, I cut mommy’s hair. Actually, mommy is bald!” This friend said, “Really?” I think she dismissed his comment as just another crazy comment from a four-year-old. She has a four-year-old too. So then I told her my story and confirmed what Joey said. She told me of a young woman in her family with breast cancer — stage 3. She had her left breast removed and had 9 lymph nodes test positive for cancer. I am stage one. I have both breasts, and none of my lymph nodes were positive. I guess I am lucky that my biggest trouble right now is my bald head.
Photo pictured above: My new hair and a new hat too!
Jacki Donaldson
Giselle and I are thinking of you and John and the boys. We can’t get over how sweet Joey is.
I don’t think I ever told you that while I was in Denver and sang in the Denver Women’s Chorus, we did a season called “Where I Live” dedicated to women with breast cancer. I will send you a copy because the music and lyrics and the narratives in between the songs are so powerful. They are lyrics, actually poems, written by survivors that were set to music.
Love and miss you,
Heather and Giselle
Stubble !!!! Oh, Jacki, it’s not even a word I would think could ever describe something related to you. You’re always so clean and sweet smelling. I can just see you scrubbing away at it ! Though hearing the story of someone who has a far more advanced stage of cancer lets you know yours could be worse, I also know your situation is awful for you. Each stubble length hair that falls out, will make way for a new long one soon. Joey’s humor, and the love of all of us will never waver. Love you always !! Jane
I think your biggest trouble right now is that someday Joey will be a teenager, and yet he will still tell everyone your secrets!
Hope you are feeling well today.
Renee
You’ll just be more aerodynamic, making your road to recovery faster! Love, Jim
I love the hair & the pink hat. You look all set for a day at the beach. Caution: Don’t let Elizabeth see that hat … she LOVES pink ! You’re lookin’ good girl … and aerodynamic, ha! Love, Jane
Jacki-
Thank you for sharing all of this with us. It is a beautiful testament to your spirit. You look amazing! I think of you everyday…..all my love and prayers.
Cindy Herring
Jacki~Your hair is absolutely gorgeous!!! And our children do speak the truth~which is a good thing, right? My thoughts are with you every day.
Michelle
Seriously, I could not tell that it’s not your hair. How funny is that?! Maybe Danny will be the strong, SILENT type