Dignity, Self-Respect and Facial Hair
You have heard it stated in numerous
locations that cancer battles are a roller coaster ride. That is quite true. It
has recently gone from my “good” diagnoses in July and August to the rapid
descent down once the second regimen of chemotherapy was initiated to a fall
that has allowed me to focus, live, sell our home, and move (more on those another
time) to some scary indications of late. It is indeed a roller coaster. Let me
share briefly about a “low” that most will not understand.
The first half of the year was a
downward spiral health wise, continuing with the chemotherapy. It is quite hard
to describe the feelings that come with the hair loss associated with the
treatment. It is a visible sign to everyone you encounter that says, “I am
sick. I am fighting a terrible battle. It is taking its toll on me and you can
see it.” If you couple that with the water weight gain I dealt with, it was
debilitating and demoralizing.
The lowest point in this journey
for me, well one of them anyway, came on my birthday. We had made plans to go
to dinner with my daughters who live in town, and their families. That same day
I had been working outside power washing and painting my deck in preparation
for the sale of our home. (Again, more on that will come later.) It was a 90+
degree day and I had pushed myself and worked long and hard all day to make
headway on this task.
What no one knew, including Kay, was
that I had another agenda. The afore mentioned hair loss, was quite humiliating
for me, even though folks kept telling me how I wore the baldness well and looked
good with it, whatever that means.
Here is the turn it took on me. I saw
it coming, feared it, and knew it would be hard. I just did not realize how difficult.
You see, I have had facial hair of one sort of another almost my entire adult
life. I first wanted to grow a beard in my teens when I saw how good it looked
on my Uncle Grady. As soon as I was able, I did. It has been various lengths,
styles, and cuts. It has been a full beard most of that time, but a goatee was
my choice for most of a decade. My phrase was “My chin had not seen sunshine
since 1985.
This spring that changed. My beard
fell out with the chemo and became more and more sparse. I did my best to keep
it, but it was apparent by June I was fighting a losing battle. I made a new
choice. I decided I had to bite the bullet and shave off what was left. I chose
my birthday to do the deed.
When my family arrived to go to dinner,
as previously mentioned, I feigned a miscalculation in timing due to working on
the deck. It asked them to go on to the restaurant, I would take a quick shower
and catch up with them. They obliged and left to get us a seat.
I went inside as I had stated to shower,
but I also completed my plan to shave my remaining beard. I cannot fully
describe what transpired. As I shaved and rinsed the razor I stood there,
almost in tears as the last of dignity and self-respect flowed down the drain. To
you, that may seem crazy, weak or ridiculous. I assure you it was not. It was
real.
Now that I am on a new chemo that
allows my hair to grow again, it is amazing to hear folks keep saying how good
I look. It is the water weight gone. (I am at a healthy 175 now.) But more than
anything it is that I have hair again. Most people do not realize that is what
they see, but I assure you it is indeed real. I am also considering when I want
to grow my beard again. That time is close. I want to be sure it will be okay
in appearance of course, but I want to be assured somewhat that I will not have
to send my dignity down the drain a second time in the same fashion.
