17. Hair Today Gone Tomorrow
I remember the first time I laid eyes on Juli. We were teenagers, about 16, attending River Road Baptist Church in Eugene, Oregon with our families. We had actually both attended Bethel-Danebo Baptist church as children, but neither of us remember meeting each other at that age, and even if we had I am certain that her girl-cooties would not have been acceptable to me. I was an unruly, rock-throwing, tree-climbing, bug-catching, Cowboys & Indians pretending patience-drain on my mother. Juli was a girl. All dolls and dresses girl. I mean she was smart, did her homework before it was due, obeyed her parents the first time they asked. She often reminds me that she probably would not have liked me very well as a little boy and I agree! Her family moved away for her dad's work, and my family started attending River Road Baptist, so when Juli's dad was transferred back to Eugene, it was a happy coincidence that they chose to begin attending River Road Baptist as well.
Juli's red hair.
Gorgeous eye-popping subtle shades and colors of red that set a hook in me so deep as a 16 year old that I began to wonder if maybe girl-cooties had been improperly represented to me in my childhood. The first time I saw her was at a youth gathering in the home of Pastor Fults as the high school kids used to meet after evening services for singing and fellowship. She walked in for the first time with her younger sister Janelle and their 10 year old brother Mike, and I decided fellowship was something I could really appreciate with this new girl! I still see the scene in my mind like it was yesterday. I ended up teasing her brother Mike a lot that night, something that I found out later caused her to take notice of me since they were new, their brother was too young for the group, and I had made them feel accepted.
That was in 1976 and in March of 1980 we were married. To this day I appreciate Juli's hair, and it has occurred to me more than once that if cancer were ever to strike her, it would attack an outward feature that could not be easily hidden. Of course, I would love her still more deeply, but the reality is that when a woman loses her hair, it is different than when a man does.
We all fear cancer. A good friend is fighting breast cancer and has had chemo delayed while other procedures are completed. Another friend wrote recently that she is on another round of chemo and her blood platelets are so low that she is hospitalized and isolated. Another has been fighting kidney cancer for more than a decade and is currently dealing with some very uncomfortable complications.
And two weeks after my first infusion of chemo my hair is falling out. Big deal.
Juli and I had discussed shaving my head before the first chemo treatment, but we were told that hair loss doesn't happen in every case, so it might be worth waiting to see what happens. We were also told that I could lose only one of my eyebrows, but we're not planning on shaving those just yet either. Yesterday morning as I was getting ready for the day, Juli suddenly pointed to the sink and we both observed an amount of hair that wasn't normal. Since my chemo cycle is 21 days, 2 weeks are spent being susceptible to infection, nausea, all the wonderful joys of chemo, but the 3rd week is the week we have to get things done before it starts all over again. So I said I'd better go in and get a haircut. Juli thought we could wait one more day and see if it gets worse.
Ashlee and Ellie came for a surprise visit late Thursday night, Ellie to raise Juli's spirits to the heavens, and Ashlee just to serve us from her heart. Ashlee worked outside on the yard all day and I was feeling really good, spending most the day working outside with her, mask and hat on, until it was time to hit the shower. My Costco-sized shampoo bottle has been nearly empty so I had to tip it upside down with the lid off to get what I needed. I was thinking I need to add shampoo to our shopping list until I saw that the shower drain was clogged. I took shampoo back off the list.
And I'll spare you a detailed description of the shower drain.
So haircut it is. And when I'm done I will look as stylish as millions of other men out there, though maybe not as handsome, and will wear hats to protect my head, and except for the mask and one missing eyebrow, those who do not know me will not even guess I'm fighting cancer.
My heart really goes out to the women who are undergoing chemo, experiencing the loss of their hair. Indeed, I Corinthians describes a woman's hair as being glorious, and it truly is. Yet in I Peter, we are reminded that true beauty should come from the inner self, the "unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." The woman Juli and I met that I described in an earlier post was a case in point. No hair, no eyebrows, walking in with a stocking cap on her head. But as she sat in her recliner receiving another infusion of life-saving poison, her eyes sparkled and her smile bedazzled as she used her experience to encourage us through the unknowns of our inaugural treatment. Not a hair on her pure white scalp, but beauty of great worth in God's sight.
Juli's red hair.
Gorgeous eye-popping subtle shades and colors of red that set a hook in me so deep as a 16 year old that I began to wonder if maybe girl-cooties had been improperly represented to me in my childhood. The first time I saw her was at a youth gathering in the home of Pastor Fults as the high school kids used to meet after evening services for singing and fellowship. She walked in for the first time with her younger sister Janelle and their 10 year old brother Mike, and I decided fellowship was something I could really appreciate with this new girl! I still see the scene in my mind like it was yesterday. I ended up teasing her brother Mike a lot that night, something that I found out later caused her to take notice of me since they were new, their brother was too young for the group, and I had made them feel accepted.
That was in 1976 and in March of 1980 we were married. To this day I appreciate Juli's hair, and it has occurred to me more than once that if cancer were ever to strike her, it would attack an outward feature that could not be easily hidden. Of course, I would love her still more deeply, but the reality is that when a woman loses her hair, it is different than when a man does.
We all fear cancer. A good friend is fighting breast cancer and has had chemo delayed while other procedures are completed. Another friend wrote recently that she is on another round of chemo and her blood platelets are so low that she is hospitalized and isolated. Another has been fighting kidney cancer for more than a decade and is currently dealing with some very uncomfortable complications.
And two weeks after my first infusion of chemo my hair is falling out. Big deal.
Juli and I had discussed shaving my head before the first chemo treatment, but we were told that hair loss doesn't happen in every case, so it might be worth waiting to see what happens. We were also told that I could lose only one of my eyebrows, but we're not planning on shaving those just yet either. Yesterday morning as I was getting ready for the day, Juli suddenly pointed to the sink and we both observed an amount of hair that wasn't normal. Since my chemo cycle is 21 days, 2 weeks are spent being susceptible to infection, nausea, all the wonderful joys of chemo, but the 3rd week is the week we have to get things done before it starts all over again. So I said I'd better go in and get a haircut. Juli thought we could wait one more day and see if it gets worse.
Ashlee and Ellie came for a surprise visit late Thursday night, Ellie to raise Juli's spirits to the heavens, and Ashlee just to serve us from her heart. Ashlee worked outside on the yard all day and I was feeling really good, spending most the day working outside with her, mask and hat on, until it was time to hit the shower. My Costco-sized shampoo bottle has been nearly empty so I had to tip it upside down with the lid off to get what I needed. I was thinking I need to add shampoo to our shopping list until I saw that the shower drain was clogged. I took shampoo back off the list.
And I'll spare you a detailed description of the shower drain.
So haircut it is. And when I'm done I will look as stylish as millions of other men out there, though maybe not as handsome, and will wear hats to protect my head, and except for the mask and one missing eyebrow, those who do not know me will not even guess I'm fighting cancer.
My heart really goes out to the women who are undergoing chemo, experiencing the loss of their hair. Indeed, I Corinthians describes a woman's hair as being glorious, and it truly is. Yet in I Peter, we are reminded that true beauty should come from the inner self, the "unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." The woman Juli and I met that I described in an earlier post was a case in point. No hair, no eyebrows, walking in with a stocking cap on her head. But as she sat in her recliner receiving another infusion of life-saving poison, her eyes sparkled and her smile bedazzled as she used her experience to encourage us through the unknowns of our inaugural treatment. Not a hair on her pure white scalp, but beauty of great worth in God's sight.
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