I Don’t Know What’s Worse–Getting My Period Or Pulling Chunks Of Hair Out Of My Head

October 27th, 2018

Well, let me tell you it has been one hell of a week. Some tears have been shed, some laughter has been had, and some shots have been given.

To get the full effect of this week, I have to start on Monday.

Monday was day 15 of the first cycle so it should’ve gone just like day 8. Come in, sit down, get stabbed in the port, have blood taken, get the bleomycin push for 5 minutes, and then leave. Bada bing, bada boom.

All was good until the blood work came back. The major thing the nurses are looking at when they test my blood is my white blood cells. Specifically, they are looking at the neutrophil count which is supposed to fall between 1.60-8.30. My number? 0.39. Having a number that falls below the range means that I am at risk for infection so a cold to a healthy person could be pneumonia for me.

Yikes.

The nurses informed me that I would not be getting the bleomycin that day because my body wouldn’t be able to handle it. Instead, I was going to get a shot that would help to increase my white blood cell count. Cool, I’m a pro at shots since my days of freezing my eggs. Bring it on! They also told me I would have to come back Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, AND Friday to get the shot and check on my blood work. So much quality time with the infusion center people.

We could work with the low white blood cells, all I had to do was stay away from people and places that have germs. Just call me “bubble girl.”

Then comes Terrible Tuesday. I woke up Tuesday morning, went to the bathroom, and put my hair in a ponytail so that I could wash my face. I took my hair out of the ponytail to discover that the ponytail holder had pulled out a good chunk of hair.

My hair was starting to fall out.

This was OK. This was expected. Breathe.

Before I started chemo, I was told by my oncologist that I would lose all my hair. I told my chemo nurse that I was thinking about getting a wig and shaving my head. She advised me not to shave my head because the worst thing that would happen was that my hair would thin. Hallelujah.

I felt such relief when she told me that because shaving my head seemed like a huge move. When my hair started falling out, I knew it was bound to happen but that didn’t make it any easier. I still can’t tell you why I cried a little before I went to bed but there were definitely water droplets in my eyes. I sucked it up, wiped my tears, and went to bed refreshed to start a new day tomorrow.

And then freaking Wednesday happened. On my first day of chemo, I received a shot of progesterone that was supposed to last 3 months. This shot would act as a birth control making sure I did not get my period. Being told I would not get my period for 3 months was my own cancer silver lining. I woke up Wednesday morning and what did I have? My period, my gosh darn period.

Now here’s the thing, I know periods are supposed to come every month but after being told I wouldn’t be getting it for 3 months and then getting it was like a slap in the face. I mean honestly, it was straight up bullshit. So I called my chemo nurse Cindy and she said sometimes that happens and I said, “Cindy that’s not a good enough answer. Please call me back later when you figure out why this is happening.” She called me back and told me that only 12% of people who get the shot don’t get their periods so lucky me I fall in the 88%. Talk about false advertising.

Lie #1 during this cancer process: being told I wouldn’t get my period for 3 months and then getting it after two and half weeks.

Ladies, I’m sure you can relate to how shitty it is to wake up and have your period especially when you’re not expecting it. Gentlemen, be glad you have no idea what I’m talking about.

The thing is after what I would experience on Thursday, Wednesday would seem like a small blip on the radar.

Thursday morning I woke up just like any other morning that week. Went to the bathroom, put my hair in a ponytail, spent 5 minutes cleaning up my hair off the floor and counter, then went back into my room to clean up all the hair on my pillow. A link roller was my pillows best friend. Now, I’m no hair-thinning expert but at the rapid rate and amount that my hair was falling out I wasn’t convinced that it was just “thinning.”

That being said, I tried to stay on the bright side because chemo nurse Cindy said that it would only thin. I got home from a walk that day and vowed that I would take a shower that included me washing my hair because it was starting to smell. I was nervous though. Every time I touched my hair, sneezed, or moved a muscle, pieces of my hair would fall out so washing it in the shower made me wary.

I put shampoo and conditioner in my hair but only used the shower handle from the wall to wash it out so I didn’t have to use my hands to comb through. I thought using the shower handle would be a smarter option. Welp turns out it didn’t matter.

THAT IS HALF MY HEAD OF HAIR! Not a dog, not a hair net, not a hairball from a large cat. Marguerite Rix’s freaking hair.

So, needless to say, lie #2 of this cancer process: being told my hair would thin but in reality, it was all going to fall out.

After the shower, I needed to comb my hair because I couldn’t leave it looking like a birds nest. One comb stroke led to another and next thing I knew a few more chunks of hair were in the trash. I could’ve given about 15 Barbie dolls some real human hair at this point. Think I’m exaggerating?

Ah, the tampon box and the ginormous glob of hair. If that picture doesn’t sum up my whole week, I don’t know what will. If it wasn’t all so comical, I probably would’ve cried.

Having my hair fall out was more of a nuisance than a traumatic event because there was hair everywhere. On my pillow, the bathroom floor, the kitchen, and on every piece of clothing I wore. Instead of dealing with the inconvenience of having it all fall out I decided to just nip it in the bud. Yesterday, I went to the hair salon and they shaved my head.

Until I get my wig I’ll be wearing beanies on my head to cover the baldness and I feel like I’m giving off a hipster nerd vibe and I’ll be honest I’m kinda digging it.

Peace out.

From,

Hipster Marguerite