Chopping It All Off: Screw You Chemo, My Hair, My Way, My Time.

All girls twirl their hair, its just what they do. A lot of people can take it to mean that they're nervous, or bored, or its just a habit. I love my hair. I absolutely consider it a huge part of the reason I am who I am today. I mean, I wasn't called "Sorority Barbie" in high school because I was a brunette who was socially inept. Social stereotypes aside, there's nothing I love more than throwing in a good old "Ooops, Blonde Moment." I've never dyed my hair because I never wanted anything else. I've always loved it, just the way it is. So getting my hair cut = nerve wracking. I go to reach for it to twirl and its barely there.

With all this being said, think about society and how it reacts to quite simply: hair.
In university I conducted a social experiment. BOYS! I wanted to see how boys react to different looks. I had the ability to do this because my hair was short at the time. Very short. I could whip in extensions, throw on a wig and with in seconds, transform my look. Now granted this wasn't a top notch academic study, I understand lots of variables were at play but it was fun none the less. I would go to the bars with the girls, and try different combinations to see how they affect the opposite sex.

Long hair, with flats.
Long hair with heels.
Short hair with flats.
Short hair with heels.
etc. etc. etc.

Guys don't really care what shoes you're wearing. In all honesty they probably don't even notice. What they do notice is whether or not you can actually walk in them. You look like an idiot if you can't. Just watch Bambi stumble to the bar to order another drink, that's not a model strut, that's inexperience and alcohol hunny, take off the damn shoes. This is besides the point. Realistically, guys flocked to me when I had my extensions in. When I was bartending, the nights I wore my extensions I made double the tips. Something about longer hair excites men. Check out Maxim's top 100- how many girls have short hair? SIX, and 4 of those 6 are still to the shoulders.
*Both Bartending shifts on Halloween below with extensions in*

My main conclusion, was that people are superficial, not just guys. However, maybe not totally superficial in the off chance that there is one variable that really affects this... confidence? Was I just predisposed to believe that I looked better when my hair was longer because that's how it had always been?
*Me- very little*

*Me at approx 11 years old.*

*Grade 8 and 9*

Confidence is what made the difference and my long Victoria's Secret model hair gave me confidence that was magnetizing. SO my point, being a 15 year old girl and losing your hair = devastating.

I liked being an inpatient in the hospital because of my hair, or lack thereof. Nobody wasn't used to seeing a bald girl, so it wasn't unusual to see me prancing around looking like a member of hells angels. As soon as I stepped out into the real world, I was different. My lack of hair made it very obvious something was wrong with me, which made it more apparent that I was the "sick girl". Even while in the hospital, there came a point where I wouldn't allow visitors anymore. I didn't want them to see me at my worst, I didn't want them to see me ... ugly.
I wanted to be remembered like this, which was conveniently taken a week before I was diagnosed the first time.

Not like this...

I lose my mind when people say to me, "its just hair." Ok then, go ahead, shave your head. Now I know people who have just up and shaved their heads. A girl I went to high school with just did to raise money for the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay for Life, in honor of her mom. She looks INCREDIBLE and I wish I had her strength. However, not many of us could do that. Yes it grows back, but it takes time. Years.

It sucks that I'm admitting, that my confidence comes from my hair, but it does. (RATED R ALERT) My favorite sex scene of all time is a girl, riding a guy, and she leans down to kiss him. As she's coming back up, her hair flies up and over her head and she shakes it out of her face. A few strands cover her tatas and it is the epitome of "freshly f#@$%@" hair. Just think Christian Grey, braiding Ana's hair. Long hair is a symbol of sexuality. This is why its SUCH a big deal when female celebs chop their hair off. Anne Hathaway, Demi Moore, Kelly Pickler. It gets plastered on tabloids and becomes first rate celebrity news, because its not the norm. Call me a conformist, but hair, this stuff, helps me to feel like I fit in. I have no problem being my self and being different in a world where everyone is trying to be someone else, I just don't want to be "different" because of my look, my hair, being the sick girl.

We all want to feel beautiful. I had one boyfriend J, tell me to stop wearing my extensions because he liked me just the way I was. I also had another boyfriend, whose initial I'll leave out because as much as this hurt and I know he scarred me with this one, I don't harbor resentment. I caught him with another girl. I was fresh out of treatment, fresh out of confidence and in a really low place. He told me, and I'll never forget this

"It's not that I don't love you, I'm just not attracted to you anymore."

We stayed together for a while after this, because I loved him with my whole being. He broke me with that one statement. He reduced me to appearance after we had been together for a while and my view on life was forever changed. This person who had been my rock for so long in an instant became a rock crusher. I've said before, "the treatment hurts, it sucks, but if I didn't lose my hair, I could do it easily." I think this all stems back to that moment with that love who showed me how superficial this world really is. I laugh because another boyfriend broke up with me because I was "Too Marilyn and not enough Jackie for where he was at that point in his life". I took that one as a compliment.

People can say, wigs. I used to refuse the "W" word when I was first sick. I hated it. Wigs are hot (as in heat), they are mind numbingly hot. They are continual hot flashes on your head. They are itchy. They never look right. They are a pain in the @$$ to wash and style. Lady Gaga makes it look easy- its a lie. On top of that, they never stay where they are supposed too. I would ALWAYS have a headband or hat or something holding it in place, which added to the extreme heat. Even with my extensions, I added something.
*Brunette wig, which I clearly didn't pull off very well and then blonde extensions*

After my first bout with cancer, I was with my ex T, on our lake. He had friends up, a few were couples. We all went wakeboarding, and they weren't that good. I knew I wasn't a pro, but was way better then a first timer. I had to risk though, going in wearing my wig. I could have taken it off but I didn't want to embarrass T, by having him have a bald ugly girlfriend. It was bad enough the steroids to save my heart after heart failure had made me fat, I didn't need to be bald too! I took my chances, jumped on the board and gave it my all. It went really well for the first bit and they were impressed. Then I caught my front edge. The board dug in to the water flinging me forward. I hit the water and my wig flew off. I wanted to drown right there in that second. Tangle my self in the weeds and hide. I only had a few choices and the one I went with: pretend like this is not big deal and I'm not bothered. I could have cried, I wanted to cry, I could have made a big scene, I could have played the victim, but I knew I needed to retreat into my self and harbor the biggest amount of self loathing I had ever experienced until later. When T brought the boat around, everyone was quiet. I threw "cousin it" into the boat and tried to pretend like it didn't bother me. No one said anything, because obviously, that wouldn't have been right on any level but I knew what they were all thinking. A mash of pity, embarrassment, wow she's stupid, WTF. When we got back to the cottage I retreated into a bathroom and cried harder than I think I ever have. It should have been a reality, that his friends didn't care. He didn't care, he was still with me, still loved me. But I cared. To be honest, I've never once told anyone that story. He and I never spoke of it ever. I always talk about feeling naked from the vulnerability of writing this, but that is the most personal of scary, embarrassing stories I've ever shared.
*Our annual cottage Wakeboard competitions, Waketivis: My first year and my second year there*

Another time, after my second transplant (third bout), a bunch of us were out boating again in the water. One of our mutual friends who we hadn't seen in a few months jumped in the boat. He took one look at me and said "Oh Court, you chopped off all your hair!" He didn't realize that no, I hadn't, but this was it just growing back. I was once again mortified, and he later apologized and I felt just as bad for him. Thats the other thing about losing your hair, its a constant reminder that Yes. You didn't do this by choice. You have no control over your body and life when disease takes over because your disease dictates everything from what you're capable of, to what you look like. The only thing you can control, is how you handle it.

This is a superficial topic, so its hard to talk about. I don't want people to think that the right things are not important to me. However, this is important to me. My hair gives me confidence. When I'm sick I lose my hair, when I lose my hair I lose my confidence and when I lose my confidence I lose myself. Its a domino effect. When I went to Costa Rica, no one knew who I was, so I didn't care if I was the weird girl with short hair and a different bikini for every single day. It was liberating, but a huge part of me knew deep down inside, that this wasn't what the real world was like. It reminded me that in the real world, Kate Spade or Kmart, doesn't change who you are, it just changes the way people around you treat you. Hair is the same way, its the kmart in this metaphor. Sidenote: I think that's why its the BEST feeling ever when someone says "OMG where did you get that?" and I can confidently say "Target!"
*In the airport on my way to Costa Rica and nail painting sesh in Costa Rica*

I learned how to transform myself with my extensions. You would never know that in these pics, my hair is actually above my shoulders.
*First pic- actual hair length and then some transformations* -Sorry Dad for the Duck face pic... I know how you feel about that ;)

I rocked wigs when I had too, I made due. But I hated it. My 19th, I was bald.

Come to think of it, I was for my 21st too. I spent my 21st birthday in a wig.

BUT, I've been dealing with this since I was 15. I went to prom with no hair, twice. This is one of the proms I rocked a wig, some of the others I didnt... Those pics are hidden, I can't even show you if I wanted too. They're hidden deep.

I graduated High School in a wig.

I never was promiscuous with guys because I was afraid if they kissed me, and put their hands on my head, they may realize I'm wearing a wig, and then wonder whats ACTUALLY wrong with me. Those were some big milestones that I had to adjust for. I couldn't just be me comfortably. I had to be the best version I could be of me given what I had to work with. 15, 18 and 20. All three times I lost my hair, all of it. I'm sick of waiting for it to grow back. Someone special to me recently told me "the difference between a bad hair cut and a good hair cut is two weeks". For me its not a hair cut thats the issue and the two weeks is actually years.

When I first heard I was sick again, my first thought was OMG my confidence, my hair. So as I was sitting in the waiting room last Wednesday, brushing through my hair with my hands, watching it fall out, my heart sank. My hair was at a length I loved. Mermaid hair as one of my best friends back home and I strive for. I could rock BIG country curls. I could straighten it. I could do my Victoria's Secret hair. Three weeks prior, I had spent $200 at ULTA on hair products because they were having a huge sale and I thought I should stock up. Now I have all the hairspray in the world, and may not have hair to use it on.

Now granted, I may NOT lose my hair, but after one week of treatment and its already starting to shed, I panicked. I convinced myself that if I cut it, the weight of it wont drag it down. If I cut it, it will be super healthy. This is coming from the girl who takes prenatal vitamins just for her hair. SO I did the most UNCourtney thing ever and went and chopped it off. If Chemo is going to take my hair, I'm going to do this my way. Its my choice this time!
Pre/ During cut

My adorable hair stylist J, was so nervous apparently to cut my hair.

"What if I'm cutting it and it all falls out."

Luckily that didn't happen. She was so sweet and understanding with me. She even emailed me after and apologized for taking it too short because she felt so guilty. I told her she had nothing to worry about because it was exactly what I wanted. It's a fresh start. A way for me to be proactive in controlling the way the chemo affects my confidence. Its my way of keeping control and not letting the disease control me. This is my "Britney" moment. (Except slightly more sane, ok a lot more sane)

It's short, but I'm excited to try out my hot rollers with my short hair. I may actually be able to pull off a sock bun now. J said that my hair was extremely thick and didn't fall out more than the average persons. This really reassured me, but its still in my head. Everyone just wants to feel beautiful. I am covered in scars and cursed with a body that doesn't seem to cooperate with me. The one thing I could rely on to feel good about my self was my hair. Now I have what I'm calling my mom cut, but I'm planning on rocking it. I look innocent as hell (which can be devilishly fun), and that can only be used to my advantage. Its so much lighter and less hot which helps when I'm fevering. I'm learning to love my new do. I'm also learning, that it really shouldn't be my source of confidence. It's a lot easier said than done, but everything is a learning process.
The final product: (sorry for the delay, I know a ton of people have been DYING to see!)

I had one of my good guy friends F, tell me

"That's hot, I've gotta say, I'm diggin the new look."

Even when I insecurely said "Really?" He replied with "Uh YEA" along with some other R rated comments. Thats what friends are for :)

So we'll see what happens but my hair is just another metaphor for my womanhood being taken away from me. Long hair typically symbolizes feminism, and mine is potentially being taken away, just like my lady bits. It never ends, but really this is the least of my worries. Its just room for another social experiment ;)

The Lazy Days before The Radiation Rayz

The last few days....

Have been really great. I've completely not thought about being sick. My Surgery got moved from next Wednesday to Tuesday and so therefore, I have a few days off to just... be. I told myself I was going to relax and that is exactly what I've done.

Where did we leave off....
*To be completely honest, the days are jumbled in my mind. So I've got stories.. but they may be out of order.*

I GOT HOT ROLLERS! I'm so excited. While visiting K in Kingston last time, she introduced me to her friend who is a hairstylist. He did my hair with hot rollers, Big Hair for a Big Personality. I was #OBSESSED. (yes I just hashtagged it) So I got my own. The ones he used on me were IMPOSSIBLE to find. Legit, I can't even find them on the intranet. (Not even the internet but the intranet.) I got wannabe's but I think I was semi successful!
F-> Professional

And my version (which is from Saturday night dinner with friends):

I think the whole point of the hairstyle is BIG SEX ME hair. It's my favorite look, I mean who doesn't want to feel like a VS angel.

So, on I think Thursday, the madre, seestor and I hung out. We went to dinner at "On The Border", or off the Border... heck I don't know, we were in the restaurant so I'll just say we were in the Border. I was once again obsessing over salsa. We were all in top notch moods because legit everything seemed funny. My mum was in the back seat and my sister was driving.

"Mom- stop making farting noises with your hands!"

yelled Nat.

My mum, was clearly disappointed after her

"LOOK what I can do"

exclamation!

Natalie turned up her Ipod and Lotus was playing. We joke that its my favorite band, although its a big hippie band that doesn't sing. Personally, I like lyrics in my music. BUT I "liked" the band and really wanted to go to a concert with her because... ok Backstory:

I had gone on a date with the HOTTEST guy. We met on match and he had been in Italian Vogue. (I didn't know this prior to the date and yes I googled as soon as I got home). Anyway, he loved Lotus and so when I found out both he and my sister were going to the show, I begged her to take me. The running joke then became how they were my "favorite" band. Long story short, she didn't take me, because "I'm not going to take a ticket away from someone who actually wants to be there!"- Damn hippies.

She was conveniently going to see them again this weekend. While reiterating that

"I just don't understand how they don't sing and have lyrics, its so weird."

Nat said...

"COURTNEY! You don't understand. Lotus is the essence of my being- I'm going to sit during their set and cry!"

Haha I laughed and was like ok dude. Its quite the coincidence because an old crush (who I chat with all the time) and I got on the topic of Lotus the following night and how our siblings were super into them. He was all like

"My bro wont stop asking about your sister, The 4 of us should totally hit up a show."

::Palm to forehead, with shaking of head motion:: It never ends. I joked that Natalie should take me this weekend with her, I mean I had the time off and why not experience a hippie festival. My mom supported me and was like

"Natalie! Take and include your sister!"

To which Natalie brought up a very valid point.

"Could you imagine her drinking for 12 Hours?"

I was like

"I could totally last all day!"

Natalie then won the argument with

"K, Thats what most men say and they are LIARS!"

Touche Nat. Well played! In the end though, she wish she had taken me. She stayed with a friend who had a foot fetish. No lie, loves feet. My mum and I couldn't let her live this one down, so we proceeded to send her pics of our feet all night. She ended up sleeping on a pull out couch, and almost being forced to leave the concert early. Should have Let me gooo :)

*I've been drawing the arrow tattoo on places to see how I feel about it.*

We went to On or Off the border and I got my salsa. It was GLORIOUS. Mum and I had margaritas and it was just fun to be out with the fam jam. So many funny things happen, and like its just an experience. I feel like I'm always laughing which is good, because I've been stressed about starting radiation. We're deciding on where we want to radiate. Just the pelvis or the abdomen as well. If we radiate the abdomen and pelvis, then we don't have to worry about doing the biopsy of the lymph nodes. However, there are more complications and risks with more radiation. The radiation could trigger my bone marrow to relapse and so the less the better. However if my lymph nodes are positive then we need to radiate them, so we'll only know conclusively with the biopsy. Its scary thinking that treatment for one disease could lead to the relapse of another disease. As someone told me

"The Cancer is just going to have to learn to leave you alone, It hasn't won a single battle and it is sure as hell not going to win the war so it should stop trying."

I've gotten to chat with a few old friends this week too through facebook and catch up with them. One of which, her mom has recently beat cervical cancer. It was nice to talk to her because she had a different insight than someone in the medical field. I asked her about side effects and of course vaginal dilators. We talked a lot too about age differences and how they relate to this experience. It sucks having to go through this as a rare case, i.e. being so damn young, because no body will completely understand what I'm going through. Old women can say they do, but ultimately they got to enjoy their sexual prime. I'm supposed to be just getting started. She and I had a bunch of laughs, and it was so nice to talk to her. She told me

"I"m just going to start calling you Bobo like the clown, because every time something punches you down, you get right back up!"

On Friday, I got a call from Cooper's Psych department. Dr. D insisted I get someone to talk too. My referral finally went though and they called to get a few facts so that could match me with the best possible doc. The guy was really cool and nice over the phone but I didn't want to do this. I felt like, if I was admitting to someone that I should talk to someone, then it was because I'm weak and cannot handle it on my own. I know this is not the case, but as I've said before,

"Your mind can be your worst enemy."

He asked me

"Why do you need to see a psychologist?"

to which I replied,

"Umm because my doctor told me I had too."

The guy laughed and it lightened the mood. I had just gotten out of the shower and was sitting on my bed in a white towel still soaking wet. I tried to brush through my hair while we went over the questions,

"How are you sleeping? How is your appetite? Are you in pain? What meds are you on? Have you seen a therapist before? Are you depressed? Do you have thoughts of harming yourself? Do you feel like living is worthwhile? Do you have a healthy outlet? Do you abuse drugs and/or alcohol?"

It took about a half an hour and I was glad to be done. I like the fact they do the pre-screen because its not like you'll connect with every shrink, so at least this way they can find someone on the same page as me.

Friday was awesome too, because I got to see my mum's ex boyfriends' daughters. They were like little sisters to me and drove down from Princeton. We went for lunch and it was so weird because the little girls I went to the Britney Spears concert with, were now 15 and 20. How can I feel so old and so young all at once is crazy. We went for lunch and caught up and it was just so nice to get out of the house with someone who wasn't my mom or sister. They were such a breath of fresh air and got me the cutest bracelets which I'm now officially obsessed with. I love those girlies! (The one says "Young and Strong" and the other says "Positivity"- I don't know how they could be anymore fitting!)

Later that night my mum and I drove to drop her vehicle off at the dealer for an oil change. On the way back we went to pick up take out. It was fun, jamming in the car with mom. We went and got buffalo shrimp and they were amazing. I was once again craving the spice, and we mowed down. We played dress up at some point too, because I was in the mood for country. Its just a country girl thing, and probably the fact the Havelock Jamboree is this weekend and a ton of my friends are there. I texted my bestie K and was like, read the lyrics to this song. It describes me and my main weakness (in men)." It was "Ladies Love Country Boys" by Trace Adkins. I don't think I need to post the lyrics for you to catch the gist. "Pontoon" by Little Big Town came on too. That is my JAM from last summer, I rocked out. Obviously.

I didn't blog Friday night because I'm reading "Rules of Civility" by Amor Towles and I'm loving it. I also talked to the crush for a few hours. :) I won't lie, I have two crushes right now, and this one doesn't know I'm sick. He does know I'm blogging but not what about. Although he knows about my past health issues, I feel like I'm lying, but don't know why I need to tell him... right now. It's not that I'm ashamed or embarrassed of what I'm going through, but how he'll react makes me nervous. I could give him some credit and test his character by seeing how he'll react, but I risk being exposed to human nature. If he runs and hides then it is just a confirmation of how scary my situation is, and how much I would really rather not be dealing with it. It validates the fact, that being with someone in my predicament sucks just as much for them as it does for me. I guess I never worried about these things when I had leukemia because I was in a serious relationship with someone who loved me, and I knew they didn't care about my being sick, because they just wanted me, in any capacity. Now, I'm a package deal. You can have me, but you also have to have this list of things that suck and can hinder any number of things that normal couples do. Even the simple things... like go out to dinner. I won't know how I'm going to be feeling. The last few days I've been getting worse and worse. Its easy to hide fatigue with make up, and pain with a smile. But eventually that wont be so easy. So by me not telling him, is he my escape. My way to feel normal and connected to the inner 25 year old in me who so desperately wants to pretend like this is no big deal. If that's true... is it wrong? Maybe pretending to be normal isn't the worst thing, because then I won't lose touch of what its like to be "normal" and when I am better will be better able to quickly get back into the swing of things. ::Wishful Thinking::

Saturday I slept in. I woke up with a stuffy nose, sore throat, and what felt like a UTI. It was a reminder that yes, you're sick, and weak. My mum told me to stay in bed, but I knew she needed to go and pick up her car, so I took one for the team. We went to Starbucks to get me a frozen hot chocolate but it just wasn't the same. After we went and got her car we went and got our nails done. Or as they say in jersey... "Get our nails did." At least if I can't feel like a woman, I can feel girly. The Dallas vs. Arizona preseason football game was on and it was so nice to relax, get pampered and watch the game. It really is incredible how bad Dallas sucks, thank god its preseason for them, but even still, its doubtful they'll get any better. I mean really, FOUR turnovers in the first half. Poor Romo, should have stuck with golf. I just can't wait for the regular season to start and am stoked that if I have to be in the states, its at least during football season. *Haha only I talk about wanting to feel girly- and watching football in the same paragraph. Yup, I'm still me*

*Oh and for the record, one of my ALL TIME favorite tv shows starts Sept 4th. HOLLA to the LEAGUE.

Later that night my mum and I went for dinner with a really good childhood friend's mum and sister. I hadn't seen them since probably middle school. N, (my friend) is in San Fran and couldn't come but I got to facetime her. Her sis and I were talking about boobs and she was like

"You should see N's!"

I was like

"OMG REALLY? I'm totally going to ask her to show me on facetime!"

haha Oohhh how I haven't changed a bit. They got me the most gorgeous necklace. It's so me, and I'm already excited for another night out, so I can dress up and wear it. I've actually been spoiled this week, which has no lie, not sucked because next week will. We caught up on everything, our pets, families, old stories, new stories, TV. My mum brought up how she is like Penny from the Big Bang Theory because she works with some crazy intelligent people. She ended it perfectly with a story about her coworker from Bali.

"I was like OMG, next time you go to Bali (pronounced: Bah-Lee) I'm totally going with you."

I was like

"Ummm mum, do you mean Bali (prounounced Bawl-ee)?"

hhahaha I haven't been able to stop ripping on her. As my sister would say

"You're prettttty!"

On the car ride home, I pulled a total Courtney moment. While at dinner we obviously caught up on relationships past. I was showing them pictures on my phone, because... well lets just say some of their personalities made their physical descriptions much less appealing. While showing them my one ex, I accidentally clicked the "like" button on facebook for the pic. As we were in the car driving home I got a facebook notification

"S has liked your picture."

I clicked to see what picture and was like "OMFG!" It couldn't be a coincidence that she liked that EXACT picture that was over 3 years old just out of the blue. The SAME picture that I just so happened to be showing them tonight. I went into panic mode until another facebook notification came in.

"R has liked your pic."

At this point I knew I must have accidentally posted it to my wall or have done something. I instantly private messaged R and was like

"Hey.... (explained story)... So is it showing up in your newsfeed?"

She was like

"Yes, OMG I can unlike it, I just thought it was a pretty pic."

I was like no no, no worries. He was tagged in the picture so he was getting these notifications too. The damage had been done. Well, now he knows I was talking about him, or at least looking at our pics. ::Palm to head, again, shakes head:: Damn blonde moments.

We came home and I crawled into bed. I'm pooped. My friends have totally stepped up again this week. People, you totally wouldn't have expected. People checking in, people showing they care. When my psychologist pre screener asked me

"How are your support systems? Do you have a lot of social support?"

It was probably the only question I could answer with a resounding

"Absof***ing-lutely YES!"