Managing My Chemotherapy Hair Loss

I have naturally curly hair, but not the good kind. It takes a lot of work to make it look presentable, rather than a birds nest. As a result, more often than not, I scrape it up into a mum bun and have done with it. Or at least I did. So it was a bit of a surprise to me that I cried when I was told that I would more than likely lose my hair when I started chemotherapy.

As with all cancer journeys, each one is incredibly unique and personal. Before I begin to share how I have been managing my chemotherapy hair loss, I want to say that what has worked for me may or may not be the same as what works for you (or your friend/relative who is going through this). This blog post reflects my personal experience. For more information about managing chemotherapy hair loss please visit the NHS website here.

Cold Cap

When my oncologist told me I would lose my hair, and handed me a tissue to mop my subsequent tears, she told me I could opt to use a cold cap. Essentially, a cold cap is worn before, during and after a chemotherapy session. It works by cooling the scalp and slowing the blood flow to it down. The theory is that this prevents the chemotherapy drugs attacking the hair follicles, thereby protecting the hair. This sounded appealing for about thirty seconds, before my oncologist went on to say it would have a 50:50 chance of working.

My gut reaction, given that at this point we didn’t even know when I would be able to start chemotherapy because of my stupid wound, was that the way things were going I would be on the losing side of that 50:50 chance. She put me down to have it as part of my treatment, but told me I could change my mind at anytime. I left it at that but had pretty much decided that I would not use it.

When the chemotherapy ward called to book my first round, the lady on the phone said that the cap was also booked. I explained that I wasn’t entirely sure that I would want it, but she said that she would book it anyway, just in case, and I could cancel it on the day if I still wanted to. She then read further into my notes and said “actually, with the dose you have been prescribed, your hair will definitely fall out”. We both agreed that it wasn’t worth putting my body through that extra stress.

Cutting my hair off

A couple of weeks before my chemotherapy was due to start, I went to the hairdressers to have my hair cut short. I have never had short hair, and have never even considered it until this moment. I decided to do something that I would never ordinarily do, given it was all likely to be falling out within a few weeks.

Everyone told me it looked great, and that it really suited me etc etc. I hated it. I felt like I was making a statement with my hair cut, and it wasn’t a statement I wanted to be making. I tried hard to reframe it as “I will be so glad to have this hair in a year’s time”, but in reality I was miserable. If I am honest, this was actually my lowest point in this journey so far. I just didn’t feel like me.

After my first round of chemotherapy, the nurse said that my hair would most likely all be gone by my next treatment in a fortnight. The very next morning my husband shaved my head. I cannot tell you what a relief I felt. Somehow, having no hair was much more comfortable for me than having short hair that I would never have had if it weren’t for this stupid cancer.

Watching My Hair Fall Out

I had my second chemotherapy session on Monday, two weeks later. My hair was still there, and had even had to have a trim with the clippers.

However, on the Friday following my second session I noticed that it was falling out in significant quantities when I washed my hair.

From then on, for the next week I noticed significant hair loss. Weirdly it followed the pattern men take when they go bald – top then sides.

Over my Good Week, the hair loss slowed. My remaining hair may even have grown a little. We thought about shaving it off, but my scalp was really sore.

Nobody tells you that chemotherapy hair loss actually hurts. My head hurt to touch, even if I just brushed the ends of my hair, not my actual scalp. It was sore and uncomfortable to put head wraps on, but it was also cold without one. Tricky.

The sore scalp lasted about five days, and settled once most of my hair had fallen out.

After my third session of chemotherapy I lost a bit more hair. I had my fourth round three days ago, and am seeing more coming out daily. I am also starting to notice my eyebrows and eyelashes thinning.

Wigs

The hospital I go to has a specialist wig shop on the ground floor. I had studiously avoided it each time I had a hospital appointment, but once it was confirmed that I would be losing my hair, I bit the bullet and went in. I found it a bit disconcerting. All the wigs were displayed on head mannequins who all had faces. Somehow that made it hard to visualise the wig on me.

Note to wig sellers: consider faceless models so that they don’t have a personality before the client/patient tries it on.

I got given a wig form, which may entitle me to a discount on the cost of a wig. At the time of writing, I have not used it, and have chosen to stick with head wraps. I reserve the right to change my mind as my treatment progresses.

Eyelashes

Before I started chemotherapy, a friend told me about C-Lashes – false eyelashes made especially for chemotherapy patients. (This is not an ad by the way, I bought my own). I haven’t needed to wear these yet as my eyelashes are hanging in there right to the bitter end. I have practised wearing them though. I chose natural ones, and they are actually better than my own natural, pathetic lashes.

I am a contact lens wearer, and I hope that having these falsies in my armoury will help me continue to wear my lenses throughout my treatment.

Eyebrows

When I first found out that I would need chemotherapy, and would likely lose my hair, one of my first thoughts was “what do I do about my eyebrows?”. I have never bothered with my eyebrows. At least, not since the 90s when they were plucked and waxed to within an inch of their lives. They never really recovered, and didn’t need a lot of maintenance as a result. However, I vividly remember reading an article in a magazine when I was about 16, where they printed photos of celebrities without eyebrows. They looked like aliens. Not looking like an alien was suddenly the most important thing to me.

On one of my many visits to my breast cancer nurse to have my dressing changed, I asked her what people do about eyebrows. She said that some people go without, some pencil them in, some have them microbladed. I knew I wouldn’t get on with pencilling (I would never be able to get them to match) and going without clearly wasn’t an option. Cue a google search for microbladers near me. I soon discovered that it isn’t exactly cheap, but for my self esteem I felt it was worth every penny. Pretty much everything I read said that the eyebrows last for about 18 months, which would be enough to see me through treatment and regrowth. Everyone I have spoken to since, who have had microblading done, said that theirs have lasted 4-5 years and are still going strong.

I found a practitioner who specialised in medical tattoos, including 3D nipple tattoos for mastectomy patients. I knew immediately that this was the person for me. I gave her a call, explained my situation, and that time was of the essence. At this point chemotherapy was potentially starting in two weeks time, and I needed to be able to heal before my immune system came under attack from the drugs.

The lovely therapist heard everything I said, and managed to squeeze me in within a couple of days. All I needed was a letter from my oncology team to say that I was ok to have the microblading done. Because I still had my natural brows, she was able to match colour and shape to what I already had. Hopefully when the eyebrow hairs fall out, nobody will actually notice.

If you were having microblading done under normal circumstances, you would go back after 4-6 weeks to have a touch up to your brows. Obviously this wasn’t an option for me, so I will be having mine touched up once chemotherapy is completed.

I have just had my fourth and final round of my first regime of chemotherapy. My second regime starts in a week and a half, and will also cause hair loss. At the time of writing, my hair is still falling out, my natural eyebrows are thinning and my lashes are thinner than they were before. Weirdly I am finding this all ok. It is what I expected once I started this journey, and I can cope with it. For me personally, wearing a wig and having to react to comments like “oh you’ve had your hair done” would have been harder to cope with.

I wonder whether I will make more of an effort with my hair once it grows back. I am hoping that it will either come back super curly, or poker straight. Only time will tell, and it currently seems a long way off.