Everything is peachy

Chemotherapy has many side effects. For my specific treatment, they include (but are not limited to):

• Weight loss/loss of appetite
• Certain dietary restrictions
• Hair loss
• Infertility
• Being immunocompromised
• Fatigue
• Nausea/queasiness
• Having a prescription
• etc

It is likely that each of the above side effects will have their own post in due time. Today however I'll be talking about hair loss.

Chemotherapy targets fast-growing cells, like cancerous ones. However that also means that hair-growth cells are caught in the chemical crossfire. Expect these cells to start dying off in the third week of chemotherapy.

I'm a man in my early thirties, and even before cancer I've had to deal with a receding hairline. I had mastered the art of the bang-swoop to cover up parts of my forehead, and settled for a slightly shorter hairstyle to make the less-hairy parts of my head less apparent. I even tried some of the snake oils sold online that promised to regrow my hair and stimulate my follicles. They didn't work at covering up by bald areas, but they did work in covering my credit card statements with extra line items.

What I'm saying is, I thought that I was mentally ready for what would come next.

I wasn't.

It started innocently a few days after my second chemotherapy session.  I was toweling myself off after my morning shower and noticed that I had to sweep up a few more hairs than normal. I realized that the time was coming, and planned to get my hair shaved at the barbershop the next day.

I shouldn't have waited.

Towelling off the next day was distressing. I was rubbing my head off, and instead of individual follicles (like normal) I had WHOLE CLUMPS. I stopped drying my hair, and curled up in shock. After a few minutes I was able to drag my naked ass to the bedroom and dress myself. I changed my bandage, and then ran off to the closest head-groomers. With my broken German I was able to explain that I didn't want a styling, I want a full-on shave and I wanted the barber to wear a facemask because I was incredibly weak from cancer. My eyes were shut for the entire haircut, I couldn't bear to look at myself in the mirror.

The final result wasn't that bad honestly. My skull is pointier than I thought.

The barber didn't have a razor that cut all the way to the skin, so I ended up with a peach fuzz. This meant that the hair was there, but was so short that each follicle couldn't touch any other follicle. It also meant that I could feel anything that touched it.

Humans did not evolve to feel pillows under their head. Going to bed that night I was aware of every point of contact between my pillow and my skull.

It's been two weeks since the Shavening, and I have come to terms with my new head. It's still a peach fuzz, so I don't know if more hair has fallen out. Interestingly, my neanderthal-like body hair is still there. As far as I can tell none of it has fallen out. My caterpillar-like eyebrows are still intact. My unibrow still keeps on growing too, so my tweezers aren't getting a holiday during this cancer saga.

On the other hand, I can now empathize with my cat's annoyance whenever I pet her backwards.