To Wig or Not To Wig

To Wig or Not to Wig

It’s funny, when we are faced with something as serious as cancer, we worry about the strangest things. I thought, what if I lose my hair? What will I do? That’s not a what-if, but when. You will lose your hair. And as if by magic, all sorts of catalogs and informational pamphlets start coming in the mail and to my inbox. One was a catalog from the American Cancer Society, filled with all kinds of wigs and other head coverings. I thought, Oh, jeez, I guess I need to get a wig, and, like any vain woman, I got into shopping for my head covering. I looked through hundreds of styles and colors and finally decided on a real-hair, blonde, styled wig. I have never been one to fuss with my hair, and the wig I chose, although it looked more put together than I ever did on any given day, seemed the most natural-looking. I had purchased one online from a not-so-reputable company, and it looked like roadkill. Plus, there was no way to send it back, so that was a waste. If you can, try them on first. There are places where help is available in choosing the right look for you. I wish I had done that before I bought my wig.

I was totally bald after the second treatment, and I was ready with my wig. Except for one thing, I hated the stupid thing. Everybody was nice enough and told me I looked great. My father told me it was my Brigit Bardo look. Thanks, but looking at this picture, does that look like my real hair? It was itchy, too big, and sat too high on my head. But I wasn’t about to keep trying different ones; this was a temporary situation. I needed something for those occasions where I was to be seen in public. And I wore it when I went shopping or when I had to go anywhere where people were. Towards the end, I didn’t go out very much, and by then, I looked so dreadful it wouldn’t matter what was on my head.

There are tons of scarves to choose from, but I thought they made me look like a washwoman. Some women have that flair and can make a scarf look glamorous, but it made me look like a frump. My wig was fine when I had to wear it, but my go-to was a green felt hat that a friend gave me. It was a little pillbox style. I went through chemo in the summer, and the wig was too much for everyday wear, but this little hat had character and brought out the green in my eyes. I lived in that little hat for months. I don’t have any pictures of me in it, but I saved it, and maybe I’ll try it on again someday.

I was so worried about going bald that I distracted myself, always a good thing. Wearing a wig is a personal decision, and I can see why someone going through chemo would want to. Especially a young person or child, but to me, it seemed like it wasn’t me when I wore the wig. When you are going through chemo, you will do anything to feel normal, like having a head of hair or eating a sandwich. I remember one day I was dreaming about food. Not that I was hungry, really, but just remembering the simple pleasure of eating a plain turkey sandwich. I went to the store on my way home from PT one day and bought sliced turkey, American cheese, and plain white bread. I made the sandwich perfectly, with exact proportions and just the right amount of mayo. I could taste it as I assembled it. Then I sat down, took a bite, and didn’t know what to do next. I couldn’t chew it or swallow it, and it certainly didn’t taste the way I dreamed it would. It was like finding a turd in a punchbowl or a hair in a biscuit. I made myself eat some of it, but it was a struggle. Most meals those days consisted of Progresso chicken noodle and Ensure. Food was only for sustenance, not enjoyment. That is what the wig represented: me trying to appear normal. See, I have hair.

This was not my hair, and this cancer wasn’t me. But I did wear it sometimes. Some people are uncomfortable around sick people. I didn’t want anyone to feel that way around me, so I wore the wig, smiled, and went about my day, counting down the days until the end of treatment. But at night, when I plugged in my heating pad for my aching back, off came the wig or the hat, and I would try to sleep it all off at least until morning. Sleeping is a good way to go through treatment, so cherish it when you can and wear the wig; every little bit helps.