I am not a hair parlor or spa kinda gal. I like the end result, but, generally speaking, I never had the patience to navigate the process —it takes too long, and I usually find myself thinking “are we done yet?”
But today is different…
Today is my four-month end-of-chemo anniversary, and that means today is no ordinary day.
You see, if you manage to keep your hair (or, at least a large portion of it) throughout your chemo-journey, once your systemic treatment is over you need to “baby” your hair for M-O-N-T-H-S. Seriously.
For a minimum of four months, you can’t brush your hair, touch your hair, cut your hair, or style your hair. Sigh… In a nutshell, you cannot do anything that disturbs the fragility of your hair because, if you do, it sheds. And it sheds A-L-O-T!
So, my anti-beauty-parlor self has been counting the days since my last chemo infusion, and the day is finally here: happy four-month chemoversary to me!
I stopped by the hair salon more excited than ever and made a full-blown appointment: cut, color, keratin, and some other available fluff.
Is my anti-beauty-parlor self having a post-chemo identity crisis? I don’t think so, but the waiting period has certainly recalibrated the lens through which I look at the beauty-parlor experience as a whole.
Before my chemo-journey, I used to take my access to the stylist for granted —never thought I could lose my hair or be at risk of seeing it stuck in chunks in a styling brush. I used to agonize over the length of my appointments and the things I was missing out on while my hair was taken care of. Sigh (again)…
After four months of hair-threatening chemo-journey, topped off with another four months of hair-babying, (what felt like) never-ending shedding, and patient waiting, I developed a new level of appreciation for what I have and its intrinsic fragility. I learned to savor the gratification that comes after waiting, the correlation between patience and perspective, and how very few things are permanent in life.
In short, I realized the joy of the hair-parlor experience —like may things in life— begins with the first moment of pampering and is not limited to the end-result.
Yorumlar