I'd just say, "Oh, I lost my hair from chemo," and leave it at that.

I guess the bottom line is to be true to yourself.  I see it as an opportunity to celebrate the fact I'm past it everytime I get a chance to say cancer is in my past.  And maybe it gives someone hope.  Who knows?  Your co-worker could have a family member going through cancer right now and would love to hear a good word.  Proably not.  But it's possible.

When I took my bald self back to work (as a nurse no less) I told anyone who asked that I took some time off work to get chemo.  It was really weird and some of my collegues didn't know what to say, but after a few years of normalcy, it's no big deal anymore.  Just bite the bullet and enjoy the ride.

Theresa

We all respond to news of an illness in a different way.  If some people pull away it is because the news threatens their own sense of mortality and the reaction is about them, not about us.  I finally had to just let the rude or difficult comments slide away because it made ME feel better.  I remember pulling away from a friend who had terminal lung cancer because I didn't know what to do for her.  Now when somebody ask pleadingly what they can do I ask them to vacuum my rug or change my sheets.  Those are things that are hard to do when you're sick.  Sometimes I don't know if I should share my experience or not, but then I remember that the world cannot grow and learn about cancer if we don't share.  I'm sure it is more difficult for everyone who works in the regular work force.  I work at home when I'm up to it.

Hang in there keep on telling people about your dangerous adventure.

I love the video on you tube. Very funny. Uplifting!!

Hi,  I had a previous insight for you, but as days go on and I see other people far worse off than I am I think just being alive erases any awkwardness for me.  I have non Hodgkin's follicular lymphoma and to be brief about it, my doctors tell me it WILL come back.  Hey, alive is a good thing and so is remission and I'm thankful for it every day.  I'm pretty up front about having had cancer treatment and if people say, "I'm so sorry." I tell them that I'm not.  I learned a lot and have a new perspective on life.  Being changed forever is not a bad thing.  Being changed forever gives us a chance to look at who we are and what we want to be doing with our lives.  I try to think of it as a great big scar (I have one from the surgery) that is there forever but it is a reminder than I am the one who gets to choose what my life means and what it is about.  I'm alive to choose yet and that is a big HOORAY as far as I can see it.

I talked with a counsellor after all of this and it was great help.  Sometimes big things need to be shared with people that can help.

Best of growth to you,

Heart Girl

With regularity, this issue pops up on all the cancer boards I’ve watched (and occasionally post to) for almost ten years. I think it’s because there’s a constant stream of new recruits being drafted into the ranks of “survivors” who feel the need to (choose one:) vent, advise, support, justify or ? their personal Big C adventure.

For most, this is the first encounter with cancer, so there’s a huge mental hit which initially takes place. Like whacking a giant metal gong, a massive oscillation in our outlook on life takes place. This sine wave of reaction seems to follow a similar pattern for most of us (the usual: why me, can’t be, ok I’ll deal with it) which slowly damps over time.

Lots of panic in initial postings. Too often it seems, there’s a frantic grabbing for magic answers from any piece of flim-flam found. As we each find our own footing, via sound medical advice and treatment, the oscillations get smaller and smaller. Postings generally taper off as our situation improves, or at least stabilizes. As the oscillations dampen, eventually we reach the “survivor” stage. At this point we’ve all experienced a pronounced change in mental state, but many have also undergone a substantial alteration in their physical body. Hair loss, surgery scars and radiation damage to name a few of these insults.

If there’s been no outward change in appearance, how would anyone know our history, if we didn’t somehow, in some way, bring the subject up? After my prostatectomy (2001), the scar from my navel down to pubic bone is seen only by my army of MD's and my wife. Nevertheless in those early years, I often felt the need to “share” my experience on many occasions, which I now see as survivor pride mixed with a quest for reassurance that I had made the “right” choice in aggressively attacking that cancer.

Years later, the squamous and basal skin cancers left only small scars, unnoticeable amidst the face-first-thru-the-windshield car wreck and old age wrinkles. Significantly less evangelical on that cancer go-around.

The nHL CVP-R chemo two years ago thinned my hair a bit and each cycle regularly knocked me on my backside but otherwise left me looking my usual svelte self (sorry, I just couldn't resist the alliteration). If asked, I’d provide information but otherwise (other than these boards) I could remain mostly anonymous on the subject.

The CVP-R and Rituxan maintenance didn’t hold and as a result, the 4500 cGY of radiation completed two months ago has taken a big patch of hair off the left side of my head. Unless I’m wearing my Snoopy Aviator’s cap…this much hair loss invites questions. Ten years out, after multiple cancers and achieving the ripe old age of 66 (while still being able to run 20 miles a week and bike 100), awkwardness is a non-issue. I'm happy to be upright and ambulatory. When someone asks (and several have) I’ll gladly tell them about nHL and radiation treatments. As for all the curious others, if they don’t ask, I don't tell.