Cancer Through My Daughter's Eyes: A Story of Strength and Resiliency (Part 3)

Let me pause and say that unless you yourself have personally lost your own hair, you don’t get it.

That's okay. You don’t need to get it. This is what you need to do:

1. Be there

2. Listen

3. And if you're a hugger…give a hug. Lots of hugs. (I lost my hair pre-pandemic, so relax everyone)

*Do NOT tell the person:

1. “It will grow back.”

2. "Your showers will be fast!"

3. “It’s just hair.”

December 2019, chunks of my hair from my first 2 days of hair loss

I don’t say this to be mean. I say this because I know you mean well. You want to help. You are hurting too. Nothing you say feels right.

Family & friends- You want to protect the fighter.

Fighter- You want to protect those supporting you.

My suggestion- Protect each other. Lean on your actions instead of your words. Acknowledge that this SUCKS!

One morning, I was putting on my coat to drop my daughter off at

daycare. “Mama!” she exclaimed, “Your hair is on the floor.”

I instantly burst into tears. I asked, “HOW am I supposed to go to work like this?!”

She pulled me close and whispered, “It’s okay Mama. Your job probably has trash cans. You can just throw out the hair when it falls.”

I burst into laughter. She thought I was worried about where I was going to put the hair.

Or...maybe she just knew that I needed her strength.

I wiped my tears, threw on a hat (because I spied my first bald spot), and ran out the door. My hair was falling out constantly and sticking to everything. A constant visual reminder of the disease that was trying to kill me.

I dropped Lily off, blasted some Shania Twain, and tried to ignore the fact that my hair was going to be falling to the floor at work while I helped my clients and typed my paperwork. Part 4 coming soon…