Talk about chemotherapy with any woman and the first question that comes up is about hair loss. Not all chemo drugs cause hair loss, but as of now, 100% of the chemo drugs used to treat breast cancer do.
Taxotere, one of the two drugs I was treated with, causes permanent hair loss in 3-6% of patients (supposedly it's closer to 6% when used in combination with Cytoxan, as in my case.) It has earned the nickname
"Taxotears."
Some women use a product called
Penguin Cold Caps to prevent or lessen hair loss during chemo and it's supposed to work pretty well, but it was out of my budget. For someone undergoing chemo before a big life event like a family wedding, the expense might be well worth it. I never saw anyone using the cold caps at my treatment center.
In preparation for losing my hair, I went to my hairdresser and asked her to cut it as short as she could while still maintaining some style and femininity. She wouldn't let me pay for the cut, which I loved, but wasn't able to enjoy for long.
I had read on the discussion boards that with my chemo regimen, hair loss starts on average about 14 days after the first treatment and that was pretty accurate in my case. When small amounts of hair begin falling out, I just wanted to be done with it and asked Rick to use his hair clippers to buzz it down to stubble. A few people had told me I should have fun with it and buzz it into a mohawk or spike it first. Nobody who told me that has actually gone through this firsthand and I figured that when and if they do, they can "have fun with it" if they want to.
I'd also heard that some women are overcome with emotion and cry a lot when they lose their hair during chemo. Although I didn't have fun with the experience, I wasn't emotionally undone by it either. Rick and I had a few wry laughs and we both teared up a bit as he buzzed my hair off and we swept it up from the floor.
I never seriously considered getting a wig. I didn't think I'd feel comfortable wearing one and everyone in my life would know it wasn't my real hair anyway. Besides, what if I found a really cute wig and didn't like my own hair as much after it grew back? That would just be sad.
I learned that I wasn't going to be able to wear just any cute hat I happened to like. Hats not designed specifically to cover hair loss don't usually give full coverage of the hairline. I also learned that I have a fairly big head when I had to return a couple hats I ordered online that turned out to be too tight.
I had good luck with hats from
"Just in Time" Soft Hats
and "buffs" from
planetbuff.com although I've never watched "Survivor."
It helped to have a daughter who knits
and a sweet, generous friend who shops.
At first I didn't like Rick to see me with my head uncovered and I wore something on my head all the time at home. After awhile I became less self conscious and as the weather got warmer, I was just more comfortable going "topless" at home. My head never became completely smooth and shiny-bald, although my poor pink scalp was and is still visible under the thin white stubble.
After my first chemo treatment, I got to thinking about those Penguin Cold Caps and the big frozen gel mitts and boots I wore during the Taxotere infusion to try to prevent nerve damage to my hands and feet. The idea behind all three was that the cold would cause the blood vessels to constrict and reduce the amount of the chemo drug that would flow to that area. My hair was already gone, but I thought, "What if I could reduce the risk of permanent hair loss by cooling my scalp myself somehow?" I knew I couldn't come up with anything nearly as effective as the cold caps, but I've always said that "something is better than nothing," and I figured that it couldn't hurt to try "something."
So before my next three treatments, I soaked and froze all five of the "Turbie Twists" I already owned. I have them in pink, purple, green and white and I took them all frozen in plastic bags in a small ice chest to the treatment center. After the Cytoxan was run into my veins and before the nurse started the Taxotere, Rick handed me one of the frozen terry cloth hair turbans, which had just thawed enough that I could arrange it on my head and fasten it. I covered it with a puffy pink shower cap, put a towel around my shoulders to catch the drips, and had Rick set the timer on his phone. Each time the timer went off, my long-suffering husband took out another frozen Turbie Twist for me, put away the thawed one, and reset his timer. I'm sure I looked ridiculous and the nurses seemed pretty amused. I have no idea if this really accomplished anything, but it made me feel like I was doing something and it didn't cost me a dime.
Now I am four weeks past my last chemo treatment and the pathetic looking white stubble is slowly starting to fill in. I'm trying to help it along by using CVS drugstore's brand of topical minoxidil (Rogaine) for women. I bought a one month supply after reading that most oncologists considered it safe even if they couldn't say for certain that it worked. I also bought a two month supply of over-the-counter biotin supplements for the same reason. There is only anecdotal evidence that it helps hair growth, but it shouldn't do any harm. It's also supposed to be good for the skin and if so, it might help during radiation treatments.
I hope that by the time I go to meet my newborn granddaughter in Iowa in October I'll have at least as much hair as she does.
