Thirteen Days After Chemo – Thirteen is not my lucky number. I was prepared for hair loss on day ten. When it didn’t happen on days ten, eleven, or twelve, and my hair felt firmly anchored to my scalp, I was beginning to believe that I was not to be among the hairless after all. I was wrong. Technically, fourteen is usually the momentous day—and I knew that. Therefore, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when I wrung out my hair in the shower this morning and came away with two fists full of hair. The sight took my breath away. I toweled off and walked out into the bedroom to announce that I would be home late because my hair had finally begun to come out, and I would visit Martha after school to have my head shaved. As nonchalant as I tried to sound, Gary saw right through my eloquence (as he always does); placing his hands firmly on my shoulders, he looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Are you okay.” Unexpectedly, I burst into tears and sobbed on his shoulder. I wasn’t okay. Toby barked at my tears and needed to be consoled.

I told the girls before leaving for work. Katie, teary, asked what time and where she should meet me. Betsy, apparently angry at the situation and half asleep, indicated that she would not be attending the shaving.

I arrived at work and signed in. Around the corner came Mary Alice. She said, “How are you, sweet pea?” That’s all it took. I told her how I was. She hugged me and, once again, I sobbed . . . all over her pretty red sweater. She immediately spoke words of comfort and wisdom, helping me to get back to a positive place. Karen Lovekamp and Dr. Carney rounded the corner and consoled me as well. Throughout the day, news leaked to my friends and students that it was head shaving day. I entertained visitors all day long who came with well wishes and words of encouragement. Bekki reminded me that we have a plan in place, and this is just part of the journey. Kelly popped in with numerous times with new additions to add to the list of "Perks that Go with Chemo." Friendship is a beautiful thing.

Ironically, my students were studying song lyrics as social commentary today; they were each to select a song to bring to class. One of my students brought a song entitled, “I Am Not My Hair” by India Arie. I was inspired by the lyrics:

Breast cancer and chemotherapy
Took away her crown and glory.
She promised God if she was to survive,
She would enjoy every day of her life.
On national television, her
Diamond eyes are sparkling.
Baldheaded like a full moon shining,
Singing out to the whole
Wide world like, hey

I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am not your expectations (no)
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am the soul that lives within.

I reminded myself that the decision to shave my head was mine. I wasn’t just allowing myself to be victimized by hair loss; I was choosing to shave it. This was an empowering mindset.

When I arrived at my car in the afternoon, my cell phone was ringing. It was Betsy! She said, “Where are we meeting you?” I was so happy. Both girls were coming. She and Katie were on the way. We met in the parking garage and went in together. Pam Anderson greeted me. It was so good to see her again. Martha was ready and waiting.

I sat in the chair ready to have my head shaved. Around the corner emerged another smiling face. Gary was there! I thought he was at school. Family intact, the process began. Martha shaved and shaved. Before I knew it, I was bald . . . and cold. You lose a great deal of body heat from your head!

Martha told me to move to the bench next to Gary. Mystified, I complied. Gary playfully rubbed my bald head as he got up and sat in the chair. Martha swung the cape around his neck and proceeded to shave his head! Now we are both bald. What a guy! His blonde, brunette, and redhead cried openly when Gary’s head was shaved. This gesture was a true demonstration of love.

Katie announced that we must go out to eat. Whenever we have family stress, one of us suggests, without fail, that we must eat out. It is the magic remedy. We all made our way to the Mellow Mushroom for a celebratory meal. I even showed the waitress my bald picture. I’m not shy.