To Cold Cap or Not to Cold Cap?
I put a little tiny bow on my wounds and put on my hard hat for what is coming next. One mini-chapter closes and the next one is about to open. Next up, C H E M O. I don’t know about you guys but when I am curious or worried about something I research the fuck out of it. Not sure if it’s putting me more at ease or making me grow more gray hairs. Meh, eff those gray hairs. My hair is about to fall out of my damn head anyway.
The nurse told me that since I’m young, I’m going to beast these 6 rounds of chemo. I left that appointment feeling like the actual Beast Mode.
But these last few days...I’ve allowed the fear and doubt to creep in. I’m going to be walking around looking like a hairless cat. And I’ll feel like shit on top of that. 6 sessions, every 3 weeks. I keep trying to research ways to combat everything. Hair Loss especially. They have these things called Cold Caps. It’s for the women who are SUPER pressed to hold on to their hair. It keeps the chemo drugs from reaching the hair follicle. Basically giving you one giant brain freeze in the process since it’s so cold. But anything to keep these edges, honey. SIGN.ME.UP. I NEED to preserve these long locks that I’ve spent 30+ years maintaining. (Flips hair.)
My hair is beautiful and lustrous and it’s part of what makes me, me. It’s also been the envy of many broads who can’t go a day without a sew in. There’s nothing wrong with trying. But let’s do more research first. Scrolls. Scrolls. Scrolls.
I search, #coldcaps on Instagram. Lots of smiling women with contraptions on their heads as they sit in their chemo chairs. Their faces read, “This fucking sucks but at least I won’t be bald by the end of this!”
True. One Becky, two Becky’s...all the damn Becky’s. Where are the black women at?! At the time there are none. If you look now, there are about a handful. I continue doing my research. So in order for this to be successful, you’d need multiple cold caps. You’d need to wear one before chemo, and then keep swapping them out every 30 minutes. They would need to be kept on dry ice to keep them cold enough. I read somewhere that it can annoy nurses. I imagine it is the equivalent of running the server in a restaurant. And I definitely don't want to bother MJ with this either. He will have enough on his plate. But still, I’m fighting Breast Cancer. Who’s going to say no to me??? Ok, not going to rule it out yet. Wait a damn minute, how much will this shit cost us. Us because, MARRIAGE. Duh. Ohhhhh shiiiiiiiit this is expensive. $500/month + whatever other fees. Um, I can put some frozen peas under a damn wave cap and try to save these follicles my damn self! The hell? I love my hair but I’m also prepared to be strong enough to accept every part of this journey. The highs, lows, all of it. Every sucky part of it is going to not only transform me on the outside but in every other possible way. I'll be the most fierce hairless cat around!
A day or so before chemo, MJ and I pack a bag. The first chemo session is supposed to be the longest, so we are advised to come prepared. A book to read, snacks, water, cozy blanket, and anything else that can possibly make this experience more “enjoyable.” I don’t know how much of any of this I can say will be enjoyable, but the faster I knock it out the faster I can get back to the fairy tale that was just so rudely interrupted.
Tomorrow is the big day! The only way out is THROUGH. Watch out, Beast Mode is coming throughhhhhh.