Shaved My Head

Cancer. The big C. And I’m not referring to it’s name, I’m referring to the fact that it’s a Cunt of a thing. And I’m sure that every human has been touched by it in some way. It’s nowhere near as taboo as it once was, and when sharing an experience of it, most people have a similar story to relate to – either their own journey or that of a friend or family member.

My mum had breast cancer. The cheeky devil didn’t tell my sister or I who were both overseas at the time until it was removed, she had a diagnosis, a prognosis, and a trip booked to see us in a few months time. What is it with mums hey? They are so bloody selfless and she didn’t want her medical hiccup to bring either of us home prematurely. I still remember the morning she told me. I had woken up with my mum sensors tingling all over. I waited until Australia was awake, called, and burst into tears as soon as she answered the phone.

Mum: “Why are you crying?”

Me: “I don’t know, how are you?”

Mum: “Well…… “

BOOM, CRASH, CANCER! Of course it was extremely distressing, but she played it right down, had all the answers already and I was somewhat removed from the situation being on the other side of the world. Plus she didn’t lose her hair. By the time I saw her it was kind of all over.

Fast forward a few years. Out for dinner with my girls, my BF (girl boyfriend – one of my bestest gals who when we were single in our 20s would be each others date) announced she was off to the Doctor tomorrow. We laughed off the lump in her neck as a goiter, texted around a few YouTube clips from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and carried on jovially with our pasta, not a care in the world.

“Inside the lump he found teeth and a spinal cord. Yes. Inside the lump was my twin.”

As it turned out, it was not her twin…

Sweet holy fucking mother of God. Cancer. My beautiful young BF. Right there in front of me – no big ocean to shield me from it.

After mum, I always thought to myself that if any of my close friends got cancer, and had to get treatment that resulted in hair loss that I would shave my head too as a sign of solidarity. So easy to make such sweeping statements when everyone you know is in good health. And for Christmas that year, by BF got 6 months of chemotherapy and so yep, it was time to put my money where my mouth was. To be honest, I thought about the fact that I hadn’t actually told anyone this covenant I’d made with myself, so if I didn’t do it, no-one would know I reneged. I mean come on, I was single and ready to mingle, and my luscious blonde locks were part of my appeal right?

But then I thought about my beautiful BF. Who was not just facing down the barrel of hair loss, but battling a potentially terminal illness, and I just had to do it. Hair grows back. I was still healthy, isn’t it the least I could do – at least walk down a little bit of the road with her? So before I could back out, I announced it over chicken and prawn salad, and asked her if I could make a day of it and see about raising some money.

Reactions at that point

ME: What the fuck am I doing?

BF: A little overwhelmed, said I didn’t have to, but in her typically gracious fashion, accepted

Mum and Dad: Proud, but also a little ‘have you really thought this one through sweetheart – we know you’re a little impulsive at times…”

Other Friends: wondering if they should do the same

Here begins my learning

Lesson One: We all show support in our unique and special way. I am hopeless at cooking cancer friendly meals (actually, any meal really), I didn’t have a lot of spare cash to donate money or buy designer headscarves. This was my way of expressing my hurt and worry and of supporting my friend. There’s no right or wrong way to support someone, no better or worse way and no comparison with other people. Just showing up in the capacity that you can is the most important thing

I announced it publicly on Facebook, organized a location, set a date, and registered a fundraiser. No backing down now! And as is the case with these sorts of things, it gained some traction, like serious traction. And the money raised kept rolling in, and the notes of support for my BF kept rolling in. For a while it took the focus off the fact that she was seriously sick, and gave us something positive to focus on.

Lesson Two: People are compelled by a sense of community, compassion and camaraderie. (There are some better C words for you mum) They are generous with their thoughts, time and money and as you can see in any fundraiser, or public event, that the ‘vibe’ of care really can create quite the stir. It’s easy to feel alone. Particularly as a sense of community is derived more online these days than in the big bad world actually amongst other fleshy humans, but give it an opportunity to present itself, and people TURN UP and FILL UP on caring. It’s amazing to be part of.

The day came, the turn out was great, and the money raised went far and beyond my wildest imaginings. Out came the clippers, and off came the mane. It was done.

Lesson Three: Hair is not who we are. It is not our identity. It doesn’t define us. It’s just on our head. As a woman, and a single young woman, I had my moments of ‘but who would love me with no hair?’. That’s a valid reaction. But it’s also ego. And vanity. I was exactly the same person as I was before but with a cool story to tell. And in some ways the fierce love of my BF made me a different type of beautiful, that no clippers can ever touch. It was emancipating to step away from society judged elements of attractiveness. And stripping it away made me realize just how little the material actually matters. Health, friendship, support and safety are so much more vital to a good life.

Plus I looked like a fucking rock star. For about two weeks.

Then I looked like a fucking tennis ball.

My BF got better

Our hair grew back together

I filed my fundraising certificate in the cupboard

And life went on

It is one of the good news stories

Lesson Four: Gee whiz. This party that we call life can have some unexpected gatecrashers. When things don’t go the way you expect, the choice is break down, or break open.

Or maybe break down first, and THEN break open!

I shaved my head,

Cancer can get fucked