My life has been relatively cancer-free for the last nine months. I’ve been waiting for confirmation to write about this latest effort. During this time, my scalp has blossomed like a Chia Pet gone wild, which allows me to be closeted about my cancer identity while at college. It’s amazing how nearly no one at school knows about something that was such a large part of my life. Ironically, this past semester I took a writing course entitled “On Being Ill.” The class made me pick apart my cancer experience, chew on it and spit it out. All the while pretending to have no experience with the subject matter at all. Now, home for the holidays, my chemo-curls are twirling off in all directions. I got the “all-clear” from my oncologist, and have now embarked on my latest project. When I was sick, the Make-A-Wish Foundation offered me a wish. My wish was to help another cancer patient who could not afford treatment. The foundation found Micaela, a teenager living in Argentina, who is almost exactly my age. She has Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, the same diagnosis as my own. The only difference between our illnesses is that she can’t afford treatment.I want to help her. Please follow the link below to read more:
My high school friends Vashti and Sonia no longer have their luscious locks.In return, they have gained something that makes them even more beautiful—confidence. Vashti and Sonia were the first two girls to shave their heads for Shine On, a charity event for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in which students receive pledges for shaving their heads. I wanted to share Vashti and Sonia’s experiences, so I asked them each to write about what they went through.
Sonia’s Story:
“You just can't and that's all there is to it. Is that understood?”
“But Dad, why not?”
“I don’t need to give you any reasons... what do you think this is going to change anyway? You're not curing anyone's cancer by shaving your head. Don't be ludicrous ...this is your junior year and you need to stay focused on what's most important—"
“The purpose is to show her my support, Dad, that she isn't alone! WHY do you always have to be so cynical? Why can't you even LISTEN to me?”
The conversation ended a few short phrases later with me slamming my phone shut. Why couldn't my parents understand? This is something I felt so strongly about. My eyes clouded as I rushed back to my dorm room. I wanted Gabi to know how much she impacted me, how much her struggle and, most importantly, how she came out of it so strong, made me realize what really mattered to me. That was why I wanted to shave my head most. I just didn’t see why my parents couldn’t respect that.
But there were selfish motives for my wanting to shave my head, too. I had always had issues with my body. I thought I was ugly. So fat. Why couldn’t I be thin, slender? Why did my hair never seem to stay under control? Why couldn’t I be beautiful like the other girls at school and on TV? I never appreciated myself. It took me this experience for me to finally figure it all out. I wanted to prove to myself, that I like Gabi, didn’t need my hair to make me beautiful. That what I contained inside me overshadowed any outer-superficialities. I wanted to feel that my outer beauty did not define me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be beautiful no matter how I looked.
And I never thought about it at the time, but I realize now that those motives were what really prompted me to chop the hair without my parents’ permission. You have to understand, this was a big step for me…the first real time I blatantly disobeyed them. I love my parents, I listen to them. But this was one thing I couldn’t stand being turned down for.
It was hard for me, going against my parents’ wishes. I cried several times, broke down. But my friend Vashti brought me up. She made it simple: “What will hurt you more, Sonia? Shaving your head and getting yelled at, even possibly getting hit by your parents? Or not shaving your head and feeling disappointed and angry and upset for not having done what you felt so passionate about?...But Sonia don’t let me make the decision for you. Don’t think about what anyone else wants for you, not me, not your parents, not Gabi, not anyone…think about what YOU want.”
So I thought about it.
And the rest is history.
My friends have reacted in different ways. Many have been supportive, “Wow, you and Vashti look so beautiful! I wish I had the guts to do that”. While some have been hesitant to even speak to me. It was hard at first. But I knew I had to accept that people would perceive this change in different ways. When my aunt saw my picture I just had to do ME and not worry about what others would think. I was doing what was making me content and that has fulfilled me most of all.
From this experience I am a changed person, and I know I will look back on it with pride because above all I have learned to define beauty in my own, original way. I love you Gabi. Thank you for being such an inspiration.
Vashti’s Story:
Life is truly filled with surprises, but nothing is a coincidence, at least I don’t think so. I did not know I would shave my head. But I do know that it was meant to happen.
I remember finding my friend Sonia after class, and we walked around together to the Student Union. “Vashti, I’m shaving my head today,” Sonia declared.
“Really?” It was so unexpected.
I told Sonia how I had been thinking about shaving my head, but that I couldn’t find the confidence or strength to do it even though I deeply wanted to do it. This had been running through my mind for months already. The moment Sonia began to speak of her pure desire to shave her head for Gabi, I saw the sparkle in her eyes.
At this instant I thought of Gabi Heller, yes a survivor, a fighter, a young woman just like me who unknowingly helped me pull through school and life as a whole. A superwoman who deflated my ego, and showed me life as it is… pure and beautiful… unfair yet completely perfect… chaotic yet utterly simple… hard but at the same time completely invincible.
This young woman who I have barely spent time with, but who I have come to feel a deep connection to, has changed my life. For the past months any time I complained about something, or did my prayers, or heard uplifting songs, or went to synagogue, I remembered Gabriella Heller. Although Gabriella Heller was probably at home or with friends and family, she was also with me, and I can still feel her positive and contagious energy with me right now.
At this instant I also thought of my Grandma Lola, yes a victim of breast cancer, but a hopeful and selfless woman and community activist. I remembered Grandma Lola’s colorful scarves from Venezuela and Israel. Her scarves had the Latin and Jewish flavors interwoven in the threads, just as those two flavors were interwoven in her DNA. She shared her roots with the world by always doing Mitzvahs and Buenas Caridades. If she were still alive, the day I shaved my head would’ve been her birthday.
I remembered my father, a colon cancer survivor. A soccer coach, a teacher, a motivator, yes this is my father who has shown me more about life than I could ever know… an imperfect yet amazing man.
I thought of all those people around me who struggle but say nothing, who have no shoulder to cry on, who have no arms, or legs, or who need transplants, or who just need hope, and those who can’t find a reason to live.
I thought of all the people with insecurities, and I remembered my own. Yup, I remember feeling like the only thing that truly defined my femininity was my hair. I remember being told in 7th grade that I was flat-chested and boyish. I remembered hiding behind my curls for so long… All these thoughts filled my mind as Sonia spoke to me. What I had thought of doing for so long finally made sense to me, there was no question about it, It was time..
“Sonia, yes you are so right..Sonia I’m in. I will join you on this amazing act, for this amazing cause.”
I called my dad, and he was so happy to hear this surprise. Next, I called my mom, and she said no matter what she thought I was going to do it either way, so why ask. I giggled because she was right. Lastly I asked my sister, and the first two things she said were, “Prom and Graduation!”
I am done caring about prom or graduation. I am done caring about pleasing any kind of societal norm. I am done with being a hypocrite, and saying how I want to do so many things, but I never actually do them. Yes I had the GabiHellerGrandmaLolaDadandSonia spirit inside of me, but most importantly I allowed my own spirit to speak, and I allowed myself to listen to my heart for once.
Sonia ran to class and I ran to our residence hall, “Sarah can you please shave my head and Sonia’s head today?” She replied with a confused yes, and asked why. When I told Sarah that we were doing this for Gabi Heller and all of the people out there who are battling or have battled through cancer, she agreed.
What made me the happiest about shaving my head is that my hair was exactly 10 inches long, so off to Locks of Love it would go. There have already been two amazing people willing to be my sponsors, which makes me so excited. So far all I have is joy. I love looking in the mirror because I remember why I did this.
Honestly all the stares I got this weekend at the store hurt me a bit because they weren’t the nicest, but at the same time I felt so unbeatable. Typically I would cry at the laughs of a group of boys at Aldi’s, or at the scared faces I got at Sam’s Club, but for some reason I felt proud. I felt proud to show my bald head.
That’s right I know why I did it, and I don’t regret it. Honestly all I did was one big haircut, and it was inspired by many people in my life. The real hero, amazing, and beautiful soul in this story is Gabriela Heller. She is the one who went all of first semester kicking cancer in the ass, Gabi is the fighter, the inspiration, and the winner. Without Gabi there would be no Shine On, and my whole outlook and senior year would have been completely different. So Gabi I want to thank you for sharing you experience with all of us. I want to thank you for being so sincere and so strong. I want to thank you for making the best out of your circumstance, and in turn helping those around you. I want to thank you for making me realize and recognize what life is all about, and what cancer is all about too. All I could say now is that I’ll be right there with you at graduation, and I can’t wait!!!!!
As my own stubbly scalp has been transmogrified into a rather furry surface, and as my tiny hairs sprout from their follicles, I have mused on the societal significance of the fine threadlike strands that flow from the scalps of many women. Females spend hundreds of dollars and hours of their time cutting, perming, coloring, curling, straightening, and coiffuring their manes. But why?It’s funny, really—hair is just filament growing out from our heads, right? Wrong. Or at least society says so.
Good morning, class. Today we will be discussing the historical and societal implications of women’s hair.
Women’s hair can indicate marital and financial status, and religious affiliations. It can be styled to display beauty and power or it can be shaved to humiliate. Aging women flock towards likely carcinogenic hair dyes to look younger, as hair is also symbolic of age and fertility. The stories of Rapunzel, Samson and Delilah, and Medusa all allude to the traditional and/or mystical power of hair. Shaving a one’s scalp was often used as punishment for prisoners of war, as punishment for women who were suspected of collaborating with German soldiers during World War Two, as a sign of servitude for the slaves in ancient Egypt. In terms of religion, Jewish, Muslim, and Amish women—
STOP! …Please stop! …I beg of you! Enough with the history lesson! I forgot to take my Senioritis pills this morning and—Oh, my…I think I’m getting a rash.
So, sure, while Rapunzel’s hair did allow her prince to save her, I don’t think anyone is planning on getting locked in a tower anytime soon. And besides, we live in a time where people are beginning to overcome stereotypes and rise above the “norm.” If a man wants to wear a 50’s sock hop skirt, bring on those poodles. If a certain Great Baldini enjoys wearing mismatching socks, why must she be constantly rebuked? If a woman wants more than one husband, why should she be denied her wish if both men consent? The same goes for bald women.
Sonia described to me her mother’s initial reaction. She told Sonia that her head looked terrible, that she should be ashamed to go out in public, and that people would always stare at her. Later that day, her mother started crying. Sonia asked her mother what was wrong, and her mother told her that she was upset that her daughter disobeyed her, but proud that her daughter stood up for something that she believed in.
People keep telling me that I am such a hero, that I am so brave, but I’m not. I didn’t choose to have cancer. I didn’t choose go through with chemotherapy. I didn’t choose to lose my hair. I didn’t rise above societal stereotypes, religious expectations, and my parents’ wishes for something I believed in. Vashti and Sonia were just two of nearly fifty IMSA students who shaved their heads for Shine On and collectively raised over $7000.These students are the true heroes and have shown me the meaning of bravery.
Today I was sitting in the common area of my residence hall, goofing off with some friends and procrastinating on homework. I happened to glance up from my computer and I saw something that I couldn’t believe. Standing before me was a strange, bald person with no eyebrows. His face strangely resembled that of an old man and obscurely reminded me of my own image mid-treatment. Only when he started talking and I heard his voice did I recognize this person as my beloved friend, Jamie.
Jamie, Dawna, and Matt are all co-founders of something called Shine On. The purpose of this event is to raise money and awareness about blood cancer through a multitude of school-wide events, culminating in head shaving. All money will be donated to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Although the large head-shaving finale event is only occurring on the 26th of February, Jamie and other members of the swim team decided to shave their heads early for their final swim meet. So far, Shine On has received several pledges from students and teachers to shave their heads. Also they received a pledge from the cafeteria staff saying that if they receive at least $1,000 in donations, all nine of them will shave their heads.
Not being able to recognize Jamie brought back the frightening memories of not being able to recognize myself when I lost my hair, when I lost my eyebrows, when I lost weight, when my face was swollen from steroids or other treatment, or my eyes were hidden in deep, dark circles. To think that all of these people at my school are doing something so bold just to show that they care about those who are ill means the world to me. They say that actions speak louder than words. Well, right now the Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy is screaming at the top of its lungs.
Well, Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Cancerland anymore. But to answer Anonymous’ question, I’ve entered this strange world called Reality. Here they have strange customs such as lunch lines, pop quizzes, alarm clocks, and damn revolving doors that my headscarves keep getting caught in. It’s hard to identify me as an outsider now that my eyebrows have sprouted back. The worst part is, my Cancer Card* keeps getting rejected.
*For those of you healthy people, the Cancer Card is not your ordinary piece of plastic. It’s the cancer patient’s “Get Out of Jail Free Card.” One can flash his or her cancer card any time he or she is bothered with petty obligations and nuisances. These include cleaning, cooking, deadlines, walking the dog, boring dinners, doing the laundry, and much, much more! Benefits include, but are not limited to: pity, sympathy, store discounts, endless attention, gifts, free food, get well soon cards. Please Note: The Cancer Card does not cure cancer. Additionally, the Cancer Card does not work in the hospital… it’s been flashed to them so many times that it’s lost its shine.
Can you believe that a teacher actually marked me late on an assignment? Who the hell does she think she is? Doesn’t she know that I have…
…oh wait. That’s right. I don’t have cancer anymore. I’m in remission.
While I love being back at school with my friends, I still haven’t gotten used to dealing with responsibility. I’m not suggesting that I want to go back to the way things were; I’m just going through an adjustment period. The plane ride from Cancerland to Reality is pretty long and turbulent, and I’m experiencing jetlag.
As for health updates, according to my nurse, my blood counts are “fabulous.”
Last week I met with representatives from the Make A Wish Foundation. It looks like they are going to do whatever they can to make my wish of saving a life into a reality.
In the end, though, while it’s hard to get back to reality, I guess I’d rather take a math test than another blood test.
“Shit! That hurt!” I yelled as the nurse jabbed a very thick and very long needle up my arm.
“Sorry we couldn’t access your port. We didn’t want to clog it up with contrast.”
I closed my eyes and was overcome with a warm sensation. The dye was working. The thin table that I was lying on automatically slid forward. When I opened my eyes, there were only six inches between my face and the walls of the scanner. This is it, I thought to myself. This test would determine whether or not my body was still infested with cancer. If this were the case, I would need radiation and perhaps more chemotherapy. I felt unprepared. This wasn’t the kind of test I could study for.
The table automatically slid back. “Hold your breath,” said a monotone female voice. My upper body steadily moved out of the mouth of the humungous donut. It was now scanning my pelvis.
The ring shape of the machine that surrounded my body reminded me of a folktale from my childhood:
King Solomon once requested that his most trusted minister fetch him a very special ring. “You see,” he said, “this ring has magical powers. If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy." The king knew that no such thing existed, but he hoped to give his minister a sense of humility.
Spring and summer came and went, and still the minister had no idea where to find such a ring. One night, as he was walking through the poorest quarters of Jerusalem, he came across an old merchant who was laying out his goods on a shabby rug. "Have you by any chance heard of a magic ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?" The old man selected a fine gold ring from his collection and engraved something on it. Upon reading it, the minister smiled.
"Well, my friend," said Solomon, "have you found what I sent you after?" All the other ministers snickered and Solomon himself grinned.
"Here it is, your majesty!"
As Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The merchant had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: gimel, zayin, and yud, which began the words "Gam zeh ya'avor" -- "This too shall pass."
My scans came back negative, and I am now officially in remission. I wish I had remembered this tale much earlier in my journey, through all of my pain, tears, mucositis, infections, neutropenia, fainting, fatigue, transfusions, bruising, bleeding, loneliness, and fear because this too did pass. I’m over this bump and moving forward on this winding road we call life. On Sunday, I’m returning to school, I’ve been accepted to a college, and eating no longer hurts. Now, if only someone would tell my nose hairs to get their furry asses back into my nostrils, my life would be much more pleasant.
I am thankful for how much this cancer transformed my family. My younger brother has practically become my older one, as he is constantly looking out for me and reminding me to take my meds; my father has transformed from a virtual workaholic to overly protective nurse, caretaker, and friend; and my mother has always been with me for every blood draw, procedure, and emergency room visit, always bringing with a supply of food to meet my special dietary needs. I am thankful for learning the definition of true friends: the ones who ditch school to accompany me to the hospital, the ones who go out of their way to pay me surprise visits, the ones who join me on long walks in the Botanic Gardens, and the ones who make me delicious muffins, gheimeh, mandel bread, plum tart, pumpkin bread, and soup. I am thankful to all of the wonderful doctors, nurses, and hospital staff who took such wonderful care of me. I am also thankful to my aunt Tania, who was particularly instrumental in my diagnosis. Lastly, I would like to thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me for so long.
Soon after being afflicted with this disease, I realized that I was fortunate to be receiving the great healthcare that I received. With the knowledge that not every child battling Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is as fortunate as I am, I wanted to make a difference. Approximately six weeks ago, I was granted a wish by the Make a Wish Foundation (http://www.wish.org/). My wish was to save a life. Currently, I am waiting to hear back from them as to if and how they can help me accomplish my wish, and I hope to report back to you in the near future. Perhaps this blog will continue with a second life, dedicated to that worthy cause.
The great Persian poet Rumi once said, “What strikes the oyster shell does not damage the pearl.” My bald head and spirit are shining with all their might. Now that I am this much closer to a full recovery, I must always remember never to take my health for granted. Gam zeh ya'avor.
