The one without the hair

After your first chemo you know you're going to have to deal with the hair loss. An hour after my chemo I pulled out a hair and showed it to my family to let them know it started. I'm crazy like that.

Last photo with real hair

I got very anxious this week. Because it usually happens between day 14-17. The waiting, the waiting. I just couldn't take it anymore and that's when I called the wig store. Thursday I dropped by and decided to pick up my wig and I also let them shave my head.

A big decision.

For me, it was the right one. Control freak that I am, I took matters into my own hands. Not having to deal with any of that waking-up-finding-hair-on-your-pillow stuff.

A couple of weeks ago I told my mother I would scream and cry while they would shave my head. So she came along with me very well prepared with handkerchiefs. Not knowing I brought my Hello Kitty tissues. Surprisingly we didn't need them at all.

The wig

Which is strange, because my hair used to be part of my identity. I was always known as the happy bubbly girl with a lot of curly hair. But I have known it now for four months. Three days after I was diagnosed with breast cancer I stood in front of the mirror with a scarf wrapped around my head to see what I would look like.

Of course it was hard and very emotional. The sound of the electric razor. The first moment it touches your head. You keep breathing, breathing. I actually felt sick afterwards. Not to mention the morning after and you see yourself in the bathroom mirror. But I'll probably get used to it. Just like with everything else. You simply deal with it, because you don't have any other choice. This is your life. Right now. And no matter how much it fucking sucks sometimes, it's good to know you still have some control over it.