Going wigless
I walked in and took what had been my usual place…
No one said hello. No one looked at me.
No one glanced in my direction, even in the mirror.I felt invisible
It seemed they wanted me to be invisible
I realized that in the wider world…
A baldhead was too much of a statement for me to make.So that was the end of that experiment.
From “About My Hair: a Journey to Recovery” Marcia Reid Marsted
A few weeks ago a group of students were giving Henna tattoos in the student center as part of our international student festival. I thought it was a great idea to have one drawn on my baldhead. One of the students agreed and gave me her phone number.
Yesterday, she appeared in my office, ready. So I said “yes.” Right there in my office she patiently worked on a design and applied the ink as students and colleagues looked on and took photos.
For almost six months, I have had no hair. Thanksgiving weekend, 2007, my nephew shaved my head and I have been bald ever since. I shaved it a few times, but the chemo quickly stopped the hair from growing as it fought the cancer cells and dissolved the tumor.
A baldhead is a sure sign of chemo treatment and a difficult symbol in the world of cancer. I have heard of some people refusing chemo treatment because of the hair loss. Most people, especially women, are fitted with a wig and are rarely seen without it. My head covering is a khaki baseball cap that belonged to my dear friend Angelo. I experimented with scarves and other hats, but liked this the best. I wear it backwards with a pin attached on the side. A small silver rectangle, the pin has crystals hanging from it and the words “Make Art Not War’ engraved in small letters across the center. I never go outside of my apartment without the hat.
I am not sure why I decided against a wig, except that it just seems more honest to me to not wear one. Now that is a tricky statement. I do not want to imply that those who choose to wear wigs are not being honest. It is a very complex and personal decision. Every aspect of cancer treatment takes courage and determination. For me, to don the baseball cap felt right.
However, I must admit that there have been many, many times when I wish I had a wig. Times when I don’t want to go outside with the baldhead and baseball cap. Times when my energy is low and I want to pretend that my life is normal. Times when I want to be treated in a normal way. Times when I want to go to the grocery store and just blend in with everyone else.
I am thinking about this today because yesterday while the henna was drying I could not wear my hat. I felt naked. Even though, the hat does not entirely hide my baldhead, it has become a sort of security blanket.
So what is the statement that is made by going without a hat, without a wig? Without a hat or wig, I say, “Here I am. A cancer patient.” Do I want to hide this? According to some statistics, one in four Americans will have a diagnosis of cancer in his/her lifetime. Why is this so uncomfortable? Would it be better if I also wear a t-shirt that says, “the tumor has dissolved.” Or “I am going to survive.” Would that make it less uncomfortable for others to see?
Or is all of this uncomfortableness in my head? Is it my self-consciousness about looking different that is to play here?
I want to feel proud of my baldhead.
I want to walk tall.
I want to say, “Yes.”
Yes, here I am a cancer patient.
Yes, I am walking tall and strong.
Yes, I am a warrior.
Yes, I am not hiding or feeling sorry for myself or giving into the overwhelming feelings of powerlessness and fatigue.
Yes, I am here in all of the uncertainty of the moment. Present to what life has put before me today.
There is no certainty in this life for any of us. We may live in the illusion of thinking that we will always have tomorrow, next week, next year, a second chance to do or say what we didn’t today. Perhaps, the baldhead reminds us that in reality there is no certainty. Perhaps that is why it is so uncomfortable for all of us.
So instead of making the baldhead invisible, perhaps we could offer gratitude for the awareness that the baldhead brings. The awareness of how precious and fragile life actually is.
Letters 
Hi Bonnie,
To wig or not to wig… that is a personal choice. Either one is correct. It depends on the individual person. Some people are vain. Some have “strange” shaped heads. Some take advantage of the troublesome times to experiment with different looks. Whatever…
It’s interesting that you would write about this. I was visiting my parents this weekend, and my mother and I were talking about women with bald heads because of chemotherapy. Her comment, “People don’t care anymore. I know two of my friends who walked around bald. People understand.”
My co-worker had breast cancer and she tried a wig, then tried wrapping her head in a scarf, but, too, decided to go “natural.” She didn’t care. And neither did we.
I personally don’t think that people feel uncomfortable. I think at first others will look because seeing bald-headed women is rare, but once people realize that it is probably cancer-related, they seem to move on and not look anymore. I also think that most feel that they are making the cancer patient uncomfortable and try to avert their glances because they don’t know what to say. In my heart, I believe that most people know that you are in a struggle and even not knowing you, hope that you get well. Sometimes look in their eyes. You can see it.
You might run across a few who are rude and stare, but that’s on them. They are simply rude. And frankly, who cares? You’re surviving and they are being rude. Surviving. Rude. Surviving Rude. I’ll take surviving any day !!!
Do feel proud… because you are a survivor. You know you are. You know you’re strong and that’s all that counts.
See you soon,
Carol
Hi Bonnie,
I read Carol’s comments and she is RIGHT ON! No one can possibly understand the range of emotions that you are going through right now unless they have had the experience also. It was good to hear you say that you are going to survive!! It is so important that you feel that way. Life can be cruel sometimes and the people that live in it. Fortunately, you are not one of those cruel people. My prayers continue for your total recovery when you can just look back on all of this as a memory. In the meantime, I am still hugging that notebook with your picture on it and praying that somehow you feel the love!!
Hugs,
Sharon and Bert
Reading your blog…facing your feelings about this challenge ..this affront to your daily life…is so moving….for most of us facing our fears is very difficult ..some of us try to outrun it..to turn our backs to it….you have chosen to face them all..out loud….one of my favorite quotes which i have over my desk ..states..” I came to live life out loud”..your bald head speaks loud…A henna design…(what was it?) makes me think of how we..as humans..forever are trying in one way or another to do better…make something pretty…even if we don’t go about it the same way…some build or plant things. …some of us paint a wall or buy some flowers..some of us write…but the attempt is the same..to look at beauty ..to touch pretty….to feel pretty…or to help someone feel pretty….feel good….the student who did that ..brought you a gift ..of compassion and hope…sometimes we face awful things because we must….when in my worst times people told me I was brave..I was uncomfortable..I thought… I face this because I must…but really…we ..you….could embrace solitude and fear…..to battle that and the thing that tries to “get” us…is a kind of bravery…you are a warrior…wish I could touch your pretty henna painted head….I send you hugs sweet Bonnie….
Nilsa
Hi, Bonnie,
Thank you for sharing your decision to adorn your bald head with henna art. In anticipation of the possible hair loss to come once I begin chemo for lymphoma, I’ve decided to try henna at least once and hope I can find an inspired artist when the time is right. This may seem odd–maybe it’s only that my diagnosis is still so new and I’m still in shock–but cancer seems like a great reason to do unconventional things I normally wouldn’t have considered before. I understand your point about your decision feeling “more honest” to you. I am only now coming to believe that maybe what I’m feeling is not all shock but a little liberation, too. After all, if living with cancer helps me to start becoming a more authentic person (at 50!), then I can only thank divinity’s mysterious ways and do my best to make the most of this experience.
Many blessings to you in your survival, strength, and grace.