I had a little problem over the weekend.
My hair formed a bald spot in the back of my head. I could feel that there was something wrong. I could tell that the hair was uneven. I could not tell I had a big round bald cap at the top of my head.
Contrary to what I tell X, I do not have eyes in the back of my head, but I did still try to fix it all by myself.
If you ever think you’ve had a bad hair day, you’ve got nothing on me.
Worse, I ran around doing errands like that. I hate this! My mom said she tried to tell me, but she obviously didn’t try hard enough.
The first time I lost my hair, I was camping with a group of friends, nobody told me then either. Eddie offered me his do-rag to wear, and I figured out, if he thinks I should wear a do rag, I must have some problems. Really, if I looked more ridiculous than I would walking around in the woods like a thug, I was having some grade A hair problems.
My hair is now shaved and back o as good as it will be.
I found a long lost friend! Ms. Phia, aka Black Venus, or my triplet I met in college is no longer missing. She is an alpha black girl with her booty and fro, but the fro had to go, now we have the same hairstyle: bald, black and beautiful. She is bald by choice! Let me introduce her, since I have promised her a FINE white man:
“Does my sexiness upset you? I am a lot of things: passionate, ground breaking, artistic, loving, cold, thoughtful, maternal, and bitter… a wild rose.”
Uh-oh. Yes, this is from a woman I called my triplet.
I actually had to edit this a little bit since it embarrassed even me.
For all I know, I could have her DNA right now, since I have no idea where my genes now come from. Maybe I am West African, nobody will tell me.
This is from her site on myspace. She’s a friend of mine if you want to find her, but to seriously apply to be this girl’s man, there is a screening process. Your inquiries go through ME.
My triplet deserves only the best.
For me, relationships should be placed on the post transplant restriction list. They should rank it right up there with gardening and crowds.
The new rule should state: no dating or spousal stress for a minimum of one year post transplant.
AA has this rule. An alcoholic has to wait until they’ve finished the twelve steps to date, and they get a sponsor to watch them.
I want someone who’s been through this to tell me exactly WHY relationships are a bad decision, and to beat me into submission if I try to step out of line.
I’ll just keep Heather for now.
Relationships take a lot of energy that should be focused elsewhere. Like, say, yourself and getting better.
The health implications of stress can be catastrophic to an immune system that all ready does not know if it’s coming or going.
Stress makes people immunocompromised. It increases cortisone, a natural steroid. That’s why if you’re stressed you may feel like you can go, go, go. You are on one big adrenaline rush. Your body wants to fight or fly.
A certain level of anxiety is good to accomplish things, too much will make you ill.
This is why people get sick over the holidays, after a funeral, and during finals.
I, personally, tell myself I’m just not dealing with stressful issues to save myself, but now, I’ve been doing it for years.
Words that should never be uttered to a cancer patient during this period, especially if you are close: You’re doing worse than most, if you just put your mind to it, if you were a little more determined or tried a little bit harder… Or you can keep your hair for longer.
No. Cancer isn’t a sport. I’ve tried mind over matter and winded up passed out naked on the floor. If my hair wants to fall out it’s falling out and it will be messy and uncomfortable while it does it.
I kind of like the way my hair is. I can rock the bald look. My cheekbones can hold it up.
Sophia is bald by choice. She is not struggling with cancer. She just has the comfort with herself to show her face minus the hair.
How could she not with that bone structure?
She is not subject to stress restrictions.
So if you want to holler at my girl, you can find Black Venus on Myspace or get a hold of me.
For everybody who needs a role model, who needs to remember that BALD IS BEAUTIFUL, you don’t just have to look to me.
Baldies' Blog began originally in the UK by a 26 year old journalist with a blood cancer on a mission to inform the world about bone marrow donation.
He has since died, and I took on the cause of making cancer care more transparent for everybody.
Cancer is a disease that will touch everybody through diagnosis or affiliation: 1 in 2 men will be diagnosed and 1 in 3 woman will hear those words, "You Have Cancer."
I invite you to read how I feel along my journey and
how I am continuing to live a full life alongside my Hodgkin's lymphoma, with me controlling my cancer, not my cancer controlling me.
I hope that "Baldies' Blog" will prepare you to handle whatever life sends you, but especially if it's the message, "You Have Cancer."