MF Brain Cancer Fighting Ninja Warrior: The Incredibly Long Post in Which I Tell you About My Haircut

My treatment officially start tomorrow. I have a "simulation session" today - which sounds like fun...like when pilots get to fly fake planes, but they are in no real danger of crashing?

I think it might not be so fun for me. But hey, if it's good enough for Scully, it's definitely good enough for my radiology technicians!

In preparation for the start of treatment, I had a few things on my to do list;
1) Get a flu shot. Done! (Please get this done! It doesn't just help you. It helps everyone around you whose health might be compromised.)
2) Eat as healthy as possible. Done! (Who knew that kale, carrots, ginger, and celery, etc. could taste so good in liquid form? Thank you again, Mom & Dad, for the awesome ninja juice juicer!)
3 ) Walk every day to be in kick-ass, ninja condition for the battle ahead. Done! (Oh, and thank you, Steven, for letting me hold your hand every day on our walks. It's mostly 'cause I love you, but also because my anti-seizure meds make me a little uncoordinated, and I'd hate to fall down and crack my head open on the concrete. Would that actually be ironic? I don't know. Damn you, Alanis Morisette! You've left us so confused!)

I had one thing left to do yesterday...

4) Get a shorter haircut. Because a) I'm going to lose patches of my hair from the radiation and I thought it would make the transition less traumatic. Besides, I may be able to do an elaborate comb-over. (The rest you are laughing, but there are men of "a certain age" that are nodding right along with me, thinking this is a GREAT idea!) and b) Dealing with the sheer amount of weight I had on my head was ridiculous. I still get a smile on my face thinking about whoever it was that had to deal with my hair going into my surgery. Don't get me wrong. I don't remember one iota of it.

But I woke up like this:

Pay no attention to the expression in my eyes. I was still very loopy from the meds they had me on. Focus on the fountain of hair that was sticking out of the top of that bandage. And some poor sap was responsible for dealing with that??? Can you just picture that conversation?

Nurse 1: Hey, you! Uh...how are we going to get this bandage around Rapunzel's head to wrap this wound?

Nurse 2: Oh, shit! Just wrap it up and let it stick out the top. Maybe she'll get a haircut after she sees how ridiculous she looks!

[I'm assuming it was nurses since we KNOW that no doctor has to make decisions about what to do with the hair that is in the way and such. ]

I take that back...because they didn't shave my whole side of the head. Which they could have. Someone carefully shaved a neat corridor just along the incision line. And it's hardly noticeable with the poofball that is my hair. Now, that I think about it, that was probably nurses, too. So, give it up for the nurses at Good Sam Hospital!

When I made the decision to get the haircut, I solicited recommendations on Facebook, and I got a great number of leads for a potential stylist who could deal with my tender head and my gnarly wound from the surgery. Only fucking Facebook sucks, and I had to spend at least one hour trying to find the fucking status update with all the comments that I POSTED in order to retrieve the information. Seriously. Facebook fails at life. I'm seriously considering telling Facebook to suck it and going with twitter (So, follow me on twitter if you like that sort of thing!)

And...we're back! Haircut...recommendations...I remember what i was saying...

I decided to go with Jennifer at All About Me Kids Salon. No, I'm not a kid...but it is all about me after all, isn't it? Rachael (Lavezzo) Sims Snedecor... recommended her and assured me that she had tons of experience with cancer patients. As it turns out, she cuts hair for a lot of autistic kids, so...if you're looking for a kind, gentle, otherworldly empathetic person to do some hair...look no further. And she does a fair number of adults, too. I was disappointed that I didn't sit in the race car, but I got over it quickly.

First, we took care of the snip-snip to cut off the 10" pony tail to donate to Locks of Love. It doesn't look like 10", but my hair is so curly!!! Some kid with alopecia is going to score the jackpot! Not only is this hair curly, but it was once worn by a certified Kick-Ass Ninja Warrior! Hello?!?!

Then, Jennifer went to town cutting my hair. I had shown her some pictures of what I wanted, and she nailed it! and while she cut my hair, she was sooooo sweet and genuine and put me completely at ease. As chance would have it, her father has just finished his own radiation treatment for a head tumor. Only his was right behind his eye, so (if your squeemish, you might want to skip the next few sentences) in addition to the "mask of horror/torture" that I have got to wear, he also had to slide a metal plate under his eyelid...every fucking time.

So, you won't hear me complaining about the mask because as the old cliche goes, "It could always be worse!" Shit. That just gets to me. A fucking metal plate on his eye.

Fast forward and Jennifer has finished, and there were hugs and I'm convinced that she is something not of the earth. I can't thank you enough, Jennifer, for your generous spirit and time.