Tag Archives: hair

More Hair at The Turning Point

Where are we?  That’s a damn good question; and, I say “we” because this has been a team effort.  I’m not really taking care of Doug, not his nurse.  I’m more of a coach in a way, trying to look at this spiritually just because I believe it’s important.  Keeping Doug, as best I can, focusing on the outcome and not the process. The number one reason I write this blog is that I know how many people love him and support him with their thoughts, prayers, good wishes, whatever you want to call them; and I KNOW the energy contained in those thoughts is real and works to heal.

He is halfway through cancer treatment with another round of chemotherapy to come on the 11th, 12 more radiation treatments, 11 pipers piping, 6 geese a laying.  Oh my, this process is something unlike anything else either of us has experienced.  When you start getting old, the time passes faster but not when you are dealing with cancer treatment.  It slows down, way down—so that a minute in the middle of the night seems like ALL night when waiting for a phone call for a minute seems like ALL day.  

His hair is thinning still, find it all in the bathroom every day: that’s why God blessed us with poor vision as we grow older, neither of us sees the hair until we put our glasses on and focus for a second.  He still has a lot of it on his head.  I don’t know what it is about this hair.  He’s supposed to lose it but it’s something neither one of us seems to want to see.

He does have pain and discomfort from the radiation but this dude is one tough cookie: a snickerdoodle if we had the choice. 

We are ready for things to get back to normal!  Doug is ready to go back to work.  Work sucks until you don’t have it.

Again, thanks to all who have kept Doug in their thoughts, people from far away and long ago, kinda like Star Wars, as well as those close to home who we need more than they may realize.  


Going through cancer treatment is a unique experience, simply because one never knows what to expect from the myriad of side effects which can range from inconvenient to deadly.  As you, and your patient, go through the treatment you can be on a razor’s edge waiting for symptoms to emerge; when you don’t see them you are relieved and can even put yourself into a state of denial as if the whole cancer diagnosis isn’t real.

Then, something happens, like a stinging smack on the face, to remind you: Yes this cancer is all very real!  Yesterday there was hair, hair everywhere, Doug’s hair…all over the bathroom.  Had I been in a Hitchcock movie I would have heard the pumping, scary horn music blaring—I’m sure Doug felt the same way.  The sight put us in the mindset that Doug is indeed vulnerable, no superman, human nonetheless.  We had been kidding ourselves all along after having seen no tangible side effects.

Doug asked me, “Will you shave my head when my hair starts falling out in clumps?”, right now his hair is just thinning.  

“Let’s not go there yet, ” I replied, feigning courage.

  Most frustrating is I am helpless to do anything but sit back and watch–though I quite often advise.  The helplessness leads to anger, frustration, and fear which often comes out as anger aimed at something else. These words I write serve two purposes: to inform others and to drain my brain which alleviates the feeling of helplessness.