Hair Loss
"You're going to lose your hair"
Illness is often a hidden thing; we share what we want to with who we want to. After my diagnosis, I told friends I’d handle anything as long as I kept my hair. I meant it, I felt I could handle pain, sadness, feeling ill, just as long as I kept my hair. But when chemo became necessary, I realised my illness would no longer be private.
Preparing to be unwell is strange. I visited the ward to learn about the cold cap, but with only a 30% success rate (in my case) and added time to each session, I had to think carefully about whether it was right for me.
Knowing how painful the cap could be and how many people give up on it, I decided against it. I was focused on ‘nailing’ cancer and I couldn't risk feeling like I had failed, so I added hair loss to the list of things I would need to face.
Preparing for Hair Loss
I threw myself into research, reading books and searching online to figure out what I’d actually need. My focus became finding options. I had never experienced hair loss before; I didn’t know what I needed or what would work for me. What I did know was that I had a big head and was not a model!
I booked an appointment at a wig shop, taking Jess with me for support. Trying on wigs while I still had my hair felt odd, but I was glad to confront it while feeling strong, knowing not everyone gets the chance to prepare.
The appointment did not go well—expensive wigs (£300–£500) that made me look and feel worse. Jess was supportive and kept me from panic-buying; we left empty-handed and bewildered by what I had been offered.
Whilst there were several local wig sellers offering private consultations, I didn’t feel strong enough to face another appointment. I searched online for hours and eventually found a natural-looking, affordable wig. I also tracked down essential extras from five different sites:
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A night cap
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Scalp oil and rosemary water
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A wide-toothed comb
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Eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil
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Red lipstick
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A turban and a wig stand
Being Bald
Day 14:
My hair started to come out. The lovely Jo on the chemo ward had given me the best advice. She told me to be gentle leading up to that day, to wash my hair very carefully and try not to brush it too much. She said that that some people like to shave the hair off once it starts to come out, that it might be less traumatic than living with the daily decline. For this, I will be forever grateful.
Taking Control
On my request, my husband agreed to shave off my hair. We asked our sons to come and see halfway through the process so that it wasn’t a shock and then it was gone. I put red lipstick on, did my mascara (the eyelashes and eyebrows left later!) and sent a picture to my sisters and mum. I wore the wig immediately; it gave my boys the chance to get used my new look and meant I could go out and function normally.
The Birth of The Bald Box:
Over the coming days, weeks and months I used every item I had ordered. I found that drawing on eyebrows and using an eyeliner made a huge difference and the lipstick honestly made me feel fantastic! I realised that these items were the key.
Jess, Jo Jo and I were determined to make other people’s experience better than mine and that is where The Bald Box was born.
Here Whenever You Need Us
Whether you are just beginning to look at your options or simply taking time to figure things out, there is no rush. If you ever have questions or want to talk things through with women who understand, we are here. No pressure and no expectations, just gentle support whenever you are ready.