Balding woman’s comb-over

Sunday. August 17, 2025. That’s what I have. A balding-woman’s comb-over. After five cycles of Dato-DxD, I’ve lost most of my hair…everywhere. I was told ahead of starting treatments there was a chance I wouldn’t lose any. Yah. Right.

At the time, I’m sure my oncologist was referring to the hair on my head since that’s the most noticeable. But in cancer treatment, when a reference is made to hair loss, it’s not limited to your head alone. At this point, I no longer have eyelashes (so I always look tired); nose hair (nothing to filter my snotty drippings); facial, leg or underarm hair (no complaints); and only 10% of my eyebrows (mostly on the right). And then there’s my balding head.

I’ve been down the hair-loss road three times in the last six-plus years. As is the past, when my head hair rapidly begins turning into pillow icing, and those thinning locks barely conceal the shiny skin underneath, it’s time to show a little mercy and shear off the remaining sad stragglers just to even things out. That’s my cue to grab the electric clippers, bravely walk into the bathroom, turn on the lights, and shut the door.

Steve buzzed it all off the first time it happened. It was a pretty emotional experience. And not just for me. It’s one of those times when it’s smart to have a box of tissues nearby. Buzzing off my hair made it really real, and it felt like I was getting a big “C” stamped on my head that shouted, “Hey, look at me. I have cancer!”

So when it became obvious I wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones whose locks remain steadfastly rooted to their scalp, I knew it was time.

I stood staring into the mirror for a long time plotting my approach. There were choices since not all my hair had fallen out, just enough to make it look like I was wearing a bad Halloween wig. What to do? What to do? Start at the top and rock a reverse mohawk? Begin at the back and gently ease myself into my new “do”? Run the ominously buzzing shears along both sides and try to rock a mullet? Or simply go for the “patchwork tufts of hair look” and start a new trend? So many choices.

So I started at the back from the bottom and worked my way up. Covered in white wisps of hair, and as the clippers neared the top, I thought, “Why not get the scissors out and fashionably trim the top just to see how it goes from there?” So that’s what I did. The result was not horrible. And I still had hair. Enough hair that to look at me your first thought might not be cancer. Make them wonder. Is it old age? Bad hair products? Bad hair? For me, that’s a win.

Every day when I look in the mirror (and I try not to do that more than is absolutely necessary), I take stock of how much hair I still have and if it’s worth it to keep the comb-over. I guess I’ll just think about it again tomorrow.

The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter. —Mark Twain