Hair growth means “bad times don’t last”.

Photo from “1 in 8 women - breast cancer diary”

I had long hair. Soft, shiny and straight hair. So straight that no brush was needed; I had the dream hair!
The smelling-good-kinda-hair that everyone is jealous of, that everyone wants to pass the hand through, that everyone wants to braid for you.

And in a blink of an eye, the journey starts: long hair, bob hair, pixie hair, shaved head, bald head.

The doctor said people might start losing their hair after the first chemotherapy session. They advise having a fancy pixie haircut done, so that it would be “less dramatic”.

“Is it really SO dramatic to lose hair?” I think.
I cut it short, and pass the hand through the hair again.
It is sort of an anti-stress feeling.

People make a big deal out of it, but I shamelessly share my DEEP questions and concerns with my friends.
“Can you imagine if my hair will fly away in the night while I sleep next to a fan?!”
“Can you imagine if my hair will fly away when the train window is open?”

Ok, it’s time! I shave it all!

Wow… No one ever told me what a weird feeling it can be.
The cold breeze on my scalp and the feeling of millions of needles as I run my hand on my freshly shaved head.

The short remaining hairs are in fact too strong to be part of my hair loss process, they probably don’t want to deal with it.
So people come and caress my head and these little hairs sting and itch and I can’t explain what a weird feeling it is, until these little hairs, the last ones, give up and leave my scalp on the next chemotherapy session.

I’m really bald now.

And the journey goes on! - bald head, weird and fluffy hair growth, pixie hair, bob hair, long hair. 
I need a brush now. My hair is not as soft and smooth and fancy and shiny as it was. But my friend braids my hair with care, and I think all is temporary and hair growth means bad times don’t last. They never do.