Mase and I are retiring from a week in Florida, where we visited my sister. We had a fabulous time!
One day we visited the beach. As I was standing, looking at the ocean, I reflected on the last six months. I took in the moment, having the warm sunlight on my head, feeling my feet in the sand, looking back and seeing my sister who I missed so much, and listening to Mase and my nephew giggle while jumping over the waves. It was perfect (well, as perfect as could be without Richard being there). I'd fought hard to be in this moment. The thought of this trip,
this moment, was what got me through some really tough treatments back home. This was my reward.
Florida was a great place to rock the bald. Have I mentioned the amazing feeling of feeling the warm sun on your head? I almost feel bad for those of you who don't get to experience that feeling (okay, not really, but it really is a great feeling, especially after a cold Missouri winter). My sister pointed out to me that at nearly every outing someone would come up to us and comment on my
lack of hair. Some would offer a compliment and some would share that they, too, were a survivor. One lady stopped us at the park and told me that I was rocking the bald look and that she was inspired by it to make an appointment for her annual check up. Inspiring? I don't know about that, but I LOVE that my bald head can bring some awareness (well, plus the fact that at times I can be an attention whore). I also love hearing Survivor's stories and the sisterhood/family that we share. While I'm happy my hair is very slowly growing back, I recognize that my gateway into the conversation is closing, and in some ways that saddens me. Other stories and encouragement means so much to me ~ to meet someone who really gets it without you having to explain it ~ it's powerful.
My sister asked how she should handle it if she sees someone struggling with cancer. She often feels pulled to reach out and offer comforting words, but she also recognizes it may not be her place, as some people may not want to share. As mentioned in previous blogs, it really is a risk to say something. Not everyone is as open about it as I am. Personally, I appreciate when people mention the struggle (attention whore, remember?) or share their stories with me. Let's be honest, when I rock the bald, the truth is pretty much in your face with my big,
shiny peach fuzz covered, head. Since I'm a people person and will talk to just about anyone, it is a great conversation starter.
A things to remember:
1. If some one's struggle is obvious, I think it is okay to say something encouraging to them. It feels good, for both the giver and receiver. It's amazing how a stranger's words can make an impact on you. I can still remember the woman who stopped me after walking out of a book store and complimented my newly shaved head. I was scared and insecure about my new look and her encouragement really served as a boost for me, letting me know it was going to be okay.
Chances are if someone isn't open to talking about their situation then they would take steps to make the struggle less noticeable, such as wearing a hat or a wig (which would be dreadful in Florida!).
**Hold please, as I type this very post, a gentleman came up and started asking about my hair and sharing about his daughter's struggle.**
2. Take cues ~ If someone is closed off after you say something encouraging, smile and walk away! If someone is open and accepting of the encouragement, I've found that people, myself included, love sharing their story and educating others.
3. There are lots of different types of cancer and lots of different types of chemo. There are even multiple ways to treat breast cancer, depending on the various markers your cancer has. I know some
lucky bitches women who have had a lumpectomy and that was it. They found and removed the cancer and no further treatment was needed. Some survivors have to do radiation treatments (Ouch! Think of getting a sunburn in the same spot 30 days in a row ~ oh, and I think they some how bolt you down to a table while this is happening). Some must take hormone blocking drugs for 5 years. Some do a type of chemo that doesn't cause hair loss. Some chemo can be taken in a pill form, some has to be done through an infusion through a port. One friend of mine
who is a straight up bad ass has had to do all these treatments. Shout out to you Jenn! Some drugs cause weight gain.
Me? Oh, I was "lucky" enough to gain weight and lose my hair... There must have been some sort of mix up because I was hoping to lose some weight and gain some hair ;).
4. I feel like this is stating the obvious, but not everyone with cancer loses their hair. On one hand, I find myself jealous of these folks... Although I totally admit that isn't fair. Their struggle is just as real as mine. Perhaps, their struggle is even harder because they don't have the chemo haircut that seems to open the door to connect with other survivors. In a way, they suffer alone. There is some comfort in walking through Target and not having to put on a happy face or even look presentable - I'm sick and I get a free pass. No one expects much out of a cancer patient and I look the part of a cancer patient. Those who don't lose their hair probably don't get that free pass. Others may consider them less sick, while in reality they are fighting the same battle as every other cancer survivor.
Jill and I were trying to think of a good starter if she felt compelled to say something to someone.
Between well over $50k of education and two Master's in Counseling degrees all we could come up with was "Looks like you've been through some trials lately..." and go from there. Profound?
Hells No. But I told her she needn't worry about being profound or saying the perfect thing. Only worry about being sincere and genuine. It isn't the words that are important, what really matters is what's on your heart.
In case you are wondering about what not to say, please refer back to the blogpost about that by clicking
here.
