You can’t turn back time (okay maybe last night was an exception because of daylight savings), but you can certainly turn your back on a shit time and replace it with a better one. This for me meant topping up my red blood count with a couple of bags of O+ to forget a really fatigue filled week. However, my hemoglobin increase isn’t the only thing boosting my energy vibe and confidence…
I have HAIR! And I’m not talking about the blonde fledgling fluff on my scalp that I’ve been sporting for the past 4 months. This hair is brown, long and real. Yeah it’s a wig, but the hair is real! I look like me. I feel like me!!
As I type this blog whilst sitting in hospital on a Sunday getting a blood transfusion, I feel bloody good thinking about how much better the end of the week has been.
I picked up my handmade real hair wig on Thursday which had been 4 months in the making. At the time I was utterly exhausted and knocked about by the bitch that is fatigue so felt like it was just another routine appointment, but by the time I walked (strutted) out of Kylie Clarke Wig Maker Studio with my new do on, I felt like a new vitalized version of my old self. I couldn’t stop smiling, or looking in the mirror for that matter. I feel so vain as I can’t stop tossing it around, running my fingers through it, and thinking just how real (and good) it looks.
It looks real because it is real! The beautiful quality hair once belonged to 3 beautiful girls. 2 of them are strangers with whom I am determined to hunt down and kiss the feet of, and the other 1 is my Step Mum, or Other Mother as she likes to be referred as. Peta so kindly cut her amazing hair and offered it to me as gift, one that I’ll forever be grateful for. Having already shaved her head for the Worlds Greatest Shave numerous times in the past, this time she had someone to give it to and I’m so lucky it was me.
I’ve learned to be careful what I wish for because there were many times that my adolescent self had said to her “I wish I had your hair”… as I crudely attempted to tame my own locks either by iron or curling tong. How funny it is to now to be proudly parading around with her Pantene perfect mane.
These 3 people aren’t the only ones that I owe my great love and appreciation to, but also over 300 other generous and warm- hearted donators of a different kind.
Getting a real hair wig had not crossed my mind as an option to be honest, mainly because of the cost (range between $3- $5 K +) and because I was too busy thinking about getting the cancer out of my body that my appearance wasn’t really a priority to start with. The Gofundme Page that my gorgeous friend Jaala created along with my girlfriends was such a shock to discover. With the intention to raise a small amount of funds to help put towards my wig, it surprisingly turned into something much greater than expected, and once I found out about it, I was literally floored. The simple act of kindness by so many people who donated is the reason I sit here today with my fresh lush locks and new sense of confidence during a pretty shitty time in my life. And for that, I’m forever thankful! The only tears I’ve cried surrounding my baldness are those tears of happiness that the wig has given me over the past two days.
I LOVE my wig. I can style it, blow dry it, curl it, wash it (not when its on my head), and more importantly pretend that I’m not the breast cancer patient that headscarves often remind me that I am. I can be normal (or appear so at least). It’s so refreshing to be able to get dressed in the morning and choose an outfit I want to wear rather than deciding on something that I need to wear because it suits my headscarf. Sounds ridiculous but its true.
Receiving my new wig has made me realize just how much I have in fact missed my own head of hair. I have become so accustomed to seeing my white egg head that my old self seemed like a distant memory. And that’s okay because deep down I know I’m not the woman that I was a few months ago, even if I now look like her again. I like to think of this whole experience as a Caterpillar metamorphosis – whereby self transformation and change will lead to a better version of myself, and yep, will eventually lead to new fresher hair too.
The joy and warmth this wig has brought me is indescribable.
One thing is for sure, I have mourned the loss of my eyelashes which has consequently affected my confidence more than my hair loss has. But alas(h)! I’ve found a solution that I wish I had of come across earlier as these little beauties can be reused 25 times and instantly reignited my femininity fire:
Just like a caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon of silk before it morphs into a a butterfly, I’ll use my new gorgeous wig and Artemes lashes as a protective layer whilst I continue with chemo and await the time my own wings (or hair) begin to flourish again.