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Hair is a big deal Open any fashion magazine or stand in the middle of acres of hair care products in a pharmacy and the reality of our obsessions drive home to the shovel. When you are sick and you lose your hair, the accent is painfully acute just because you do not have one.
Five years ago, while I knew that baldness occurred in the first three weeks of a six-month chemotherapy treatment, I read the relevant chapter of my copy. Free of The Intelligent Patient Breast Cancer Guide . This manual was my Bible, the equivalent of bad cancer (and less joyful) of What to expect when you expect .
I avoided the chemo section of the book until the treatment program was confirmed after the surgery. Then I read it carefully and followed their advice. It was so useful. The authors recommended that you buy a wig before you actually need it. While I still felt good. So, I went with my dear friend Sue Nicholson to Eva & Co Wigs conveniently located in "Cancerland" just steps from the BC Cancer Agency in Vancouver Location, Location, Location
The store was quiet, with several friendly employees who Helped determine what I liked and what seemed best to me, all in a private fitting room. I may have cried a little. Privacy was appreciated.
I found a blonde wig that once on my head, made me feel beautiful. Perky. Good. Sold. The price was $ 500 – a real bargain compared to other wigs with real hair starting at $ 1200. Husband Cam said, "Buy it, what you want, everything you need, buy it."
My guide also recommended me to shave my head before the hair falls off to avoid the unpleasant shock of the handles coming out in your hand. Like a bad dream, the ultimate definition of a bad hair day. So the week before I expected her to fall, Cam mrewed my head. It was a bizarre initial ritual at all the treatment adventure that put me firmly in the arena of cancer patients. There was no turning back, no maybes, negotiations or pretensions.
There. A week later, the remaining stubble on my skull was falling like dust in the white porcelain sink as I rubbed my dry skull after a shower. With my eyebrows and my eyelashes. I felt like a chicken
All that said, I could put on my beautiful wig, draw a few eyebrows, apply a little eyeliner and all those who did not know me did not know my illness. Brilliant. The hair was so good that I had strangers asking me who was styling me. Wonderful.
Five years later, I will be three months into my degree as an oncologist in October 2018 to obtain my degree in oncology. This happy ending coincides with SwimBowen on July 21, an annual swimming event to help the people of Bowen. .
The timing is fortuitous in many ways. I had not been ready to give my beautiful wig until now. This is the perfect moment. This wig will be auctioned by Shelagh Mackinnon United Church Minister (who will soon be retiring) with the suggestion that the winning bidder donate the wig to the Bowen Island Caring Circle. Amen
© Copyright 2018 Bowen Island Subflow
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