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01/25/2008: "What is that in my drain?"
Since being on and off chemotherapy regimens since April 2005, I have taken solace in being able to say, “Well, at least I haven’t lost my hair.” Now it looks like that too is coming to an end. It is not coming out in clumps like you read in some cancer patients’ stories. Instead it is showing up as strands of hair in the bathtub, on the floor and on my pillow. I look at my shriveled self in the mirror and now I see a thinning dome.
As much as we try to think we are not so vain, it still holds us in a tight grip. How we look plays such a big role in how people react to us and even how we see ourselves. I now need to carry oxygen with me wherever I go. Out to dinner this week, many people stared, as it is an uncommon sight. In a theater, I am embarrassed by the noise my oxygen regulator makes. Often children ask me about it. Thankful I can still go out, though even these little trips are beginning to exhaust me.
So now I am adjusting to hair loss. I guess I hang in there until it starts to look thin and/or patchy and then shave it all off. It has been about 25 years since I last looked at myself with a bald head. I had trained hard in swimming to qualify for the state championships. Though I had shaved my body in the past for big meets, I decided to include my head this time. That experience is remembered as a positive as I broke a long-standing school record and qualified for All American. Maybe I could trade these lungs in for gills.
