Cancer started the row. My husband finished it.
Now, please bear in mind, this photo was taken after being in lock-down for over three months, That means no hairdresser visits and no attempt at home colouring myself. I had also lost about a third of my hair naturally. My grey was back partying for the last time.
So today I take control. I’m shaving my hair off – well I am not – my husband is. My Son wants me to have a ‘monk’ look on the scalp first which I think is hilarious!
The day went by in a blur of counselling and course assignment marking. I was always in a strange presence of a feeling as I knew what the finale would be at the end of this day. We put the Prosseco in the fridge and we charge the shaver.
I went for a walk early evening with my Son I asked him how he was feeling about my hair shave. His warmth and acceptance of what I was doing and why really touched me. At fifteen years of age he is just a little over 6ft and he pulls my smaller 5ft 6″ frame under his arm. He holds me close as walk and talk as I cry and he allows me to let it out without any judgement at all. He then allows the silence to rest there between us. I am pleased to shed a few tears outside of the house for a change as the bird song swirls around me carrying the tears with it. Softening their blow. It’s surprising how a silent cry – with no real sobs – can leave behind such a wet face and dribbly nose.
I’ve had my hair in a messy bun on my head all day. It’s too thin to wear down looking half decent and I have been online with clients today too.
The strongest and most haunting feeling is knowing it’s the last day with my own hair on my head. I’ve silently been saying my goodbyes all day. We are sat in the garden and the weather is more than kind to us. We have got full glasses of bubbles, ready to pay our respects to my loss but I am also very keen to be one step closer to recovery. So we mark another significant step on this journey as a family. I wanted to say a few words but I couldn’t – as soon as the shaver kicked into life I started to cry. Cancer means disease doesn’t it? But it has another, more painful component, ‘uncertainty’.
My youngest daughter recorded the event – it took 8 minutes in total. I swear it was longer. I have included half of that here for you to see……
I approached today thinking I was fully prepared to finish one of the quarrel’s cancer had started with me. It would be a three way argument…
CANCER ” I do not care about you. I do not care you have a family, a full life and you are only 46 years old. I want to contaminate your precious body and end you…..”
CHEMOTHERAPY “Crack on. You don’t stand a chance you fool. I am way stronger than you. I am poison. Toxic. Potent and I will kill you. I will destroy you in your path and as many other healthy cells that it takes. You won’t know what has hit you nor what I am capable of achieving. I promise. I will take both you and her immune system out until you can longer be found in any scan or any blood test.”
HEIDI “Pass me the shaver”.
I recorded the shave as I want to have this to look back on. I want to see what it looks like from the outside. I want to know what my children saw so I can support them. I have two major thought systems – how my husband is feeling right now and what shape head do I have? Please let it be even shaped and not to mahooosive! It goes into a carrier bag – how glamorous – and it takes me about 30 minutes to get the courage together to look into the mirror for the first time. It was tiny! Thank f***!! It was evenly shaped… once again … thank f***. It looks so white!! It still spawns tiny prickles of hair that feels like sandpaper when you run your hand over it. The rest of the evening is spent sharing the news with those I love… so I thought I’d share some of their responses and take this, another opportunity to say thank you to you all xxxxxxx
I will leave you with something positive – this is for those of you who may have done what I did today or going to be faced with this soon….According to ancient history from Ptolemaic beauty regimens, the symbol of a shaved head has signified devotion, rebellion and even a mental break. I like the idea of a mental break. I will take this time to re-invent myself and be proud of my new look and what it represents to me. Thank you for reading and watching this today x