Snow, A Wig, and Remembering After My Breast Cancer Diagnosis

We were barely through with the first week of the New Year when the weather began to get ugly. Listening to weather reports, we were shocked to find we were in for the first snowfall of the year. In the South, we don’t get snow often so when weathermen say, “Get ready!” we do.

We bought a load of firewood, gathered oil lamps and oil, made sure we had some charcoal on hand in case our power went out and we needed a cooking source. Over the years, we’ve weathered several ice storms and even a blizzard or two. Though those aren’t regular occurrences in our area, they do come and when they do, people act crazy. They run to the store for bread and milk. They gas up their cars, just in case, and like us, many of them hunker down until the nasty, cold weather passes. But when it only snows here, it’s beautiful! Looking out the window at our yard covered in white is so peaceful and serene.

We weren’t expecting much snow, only a dusting, but instead we were surprised to get about 5 inches! Grabbing my coat, hat, gloves, and cell phone I practically shoved my husband outside to get a photo, but just as I was about to open the door, I realized my hair was a disheveled mess. I’d taken a shower the night before but had bed head hair and that wouldn’t make for a good photo. Rushing into my closet, I pulled down a pink box. Inside it was a beautiful, natural hair wig I’d purchased right after learning of my cancer diagnosis. From talking with other breast cancer survivors, I knew, with my stage and grade of cancer, I’d probably be going through chemotherapy and more than likely would lose my hair. I could hardly imagine what I’d look like without hair but knew it wouldn’t be pretty. So, I bought the wig. But I never used it.

After my initial diagnosis, I did a ton of research on treatment options – both traditional and non-traditional. I didn’t want to subject my body to more trauma than was necessary, so I spent a lot of time deciding what I was willing to do. After I’d made my decision, I shared it with my oncologist. He wasn’t very pleased with my decision, but that didn’t matter to me. I had to do what I thought best, after all, it was my body.

I shook out the wig and affixed it to the top of my head as best I could. Since I’d never worn it before, I wasn’t quite sure how to make it stay in place but kept it semi straight by plopping a knitted cap on top of it. My husband had already gone outside and was waiting for me. We’d planned a photo in front of our new house and the backdrop of the winter scene was perfect. Placing my cell phone into the selfie stick, I took several shots and then we were so cold, we ran back inside.

As I got ready to remove my winter attire, my husband said, “Is that a wig?” I laughed and replied in the affirmative. He asked where I got it and when, so I told him. He nodded and told me it looked nice.

I went into the bathroom to remove the wig and brush my real hair. Gently, I placed the wig back in its box for safekeeping and as I did, I was overcome with emotion. I was grateful I’d never needed the wig while undergoing treatment but knew several friends who’d opted for chemo and had either chosen to go bald or use head wraps. A couple of them had quite a collection of wigs and would wear them often, but some of them looked so fake I didn’t know how they did it.

Putting the wig box up on the shelf in my closet, I noticed my prostheses. I kept them in their storage boxes when I wasn’t using them. Another wave of emotion hit. I couldn’t help but remember when I’d first gone for a fitting for breast forms. I was utterly embarrassed and even a little ashamed. When I got home from that first appointment, I cried and cried. First, I was angry that breast cancer had entered my body and then, I mourned the loss of my breasts. They were part of me and though they’d never been large, I liked them. To me, they were my femininity.

It took a few minutes to collect myself and that’s when I realized how far I’d come since those first days, weeks, and months after diagnosis. I’d gone through a range of emotions and had finally come to a place of acceptance. Facing reality has taken a long time and if I’m honest, there are still some difficult days for me.

Breast cancer is not only a physical journey but an emotional one. My first thoughts, after hearing I had cancer, were those of fear and trepidation. I had no idea how things would go as I began treatment. I felt so unsure of my future. The next emotion was frustration as I did my best to make myself look normal. Without breasts, I often felt like a fake and a failure. I was so hard on myself thinking I should be stronger than I was. It was difficult to process all the ways cancer was changing my life, but over time, I think I’ve gotten to the point of being able to say I’ve finally made peace with the situation.

That wig will stay in my closet until I choose to bring it out again. It’s a beautiful one – a silvery gray shoulder length bob with bangs. It definitely is thicker than my thin hair and does make me look a few years younger than I actually do.

It might be nice to use the wig for special occasions. I should have worn it for my youngest daughter’s wedding last year, but I’d forgotten all about it. I’m sure I would have looked 100% better in the professional photos if I’d had it on, but they pictures turned out nice anyway.

Coping with emotions before, during, and after breast cancer are challenging. People deal with emotional turmoil in different ways. What I learned is that I had to take one emotion at a time and work through it. As I did, I realized many things about myself – that I was resilient, strong, determined, and eventually optimistic about my future.

Wearing the wig outside for the snow photo this morning was fun! None of the neighbors were out so they didn’t know I was wearing a wig under my hat. What I should have done is grab both the wig and the hat and thrown them into the air at the same time with an expression of glee on my face (just like Mary Tyler Moore used to do at the beginning of her television show -although she only threw a hat, not a wig.) And after tossing those into the air, I should have plopped down in the snow and made a snow angel. I haven’t done that since I was a kid, but I was afraid I’d managed to get down there I might not have been able to get back up. I’m a whole lot older now and my bones and joints don’t always want to do what I tell them to do.

A diagnosis of breast cancer is traumatic, challenging, frightening, and often unexpected. There’s no real way to prepare for a possible “what if” so I’d like to give one piece of advice as an 11-year survivor – give yourself grace. That’s the only way I’ve managed to get through each day. And it’s important to do things your way. If you want to buy a wig, do it! If you don’t, don’t. It’s okay. It really is okay.