|With my sister Sue, in NYC, wearing my wig, towards the end of my chemo treatments.|
The wig has been meandering around my bedroom for a while. When I first stopped wearing it back in the spring as my hair started to come back in I kept it in its box on top of my dresser for a while, feeling somehow reticent to put it away quite yet.
Then I packed it up and stored it in a nice shiny bag in the back of my closet, along with a bunch of hats I used to wear last year when I was bald. I would see the wig box every now and then and wonder what to do with it.
I even took it out once in the summer, and put it on just to see how it felt now that I have hair, but was so freaked out by the memories of chemo that flooded back as I looked in the mirror that I quickly pulled it off and stored it back in its box.
I had kind of a love-hate relationship with my wig. In some ways I was so happy to be able to go out incognito when I wore it, because when it was on not everyone would immediately know I had breast cancer. But on the other hand, the damn thing itched and was so hot during all my hot flashes from the chemo that I really couldn’t stand it by the end.
And then it took so long for my hair to grow back in and I was so anxious to just get on with my life that I started to see the wig as a symbol of my BC and started to really loathe the sight of it.
I didn’t know what to do with the darn thing. I’m not the kind of person who likes to throw perfectly good things away; I’m a believer in recycling and re-purposing things that are perfectly useful for someone out there. So, I held onto it.
And then last week, my friend Andra (a fellow BC survivor who helped me through so much last year) sent me an email about a local group she was working with and on the spur of the moment I sent them a message asking if they could use my wig. They said yes, they’d love to take it.
Today I dropped it off and it was pretty uneventful. The woman thanked me, took it, said it was in good shape and that was that. I had somehow expected something more momentous after all the angst I had been feeling, but I really just felt good that it was out of my house and would be useful to someone else.
Done. Moved on with that part of my life. A nice feeling.
And of course, I had to celebrate in my now traditional post breast cancer landmark fashion, by stopping off for a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts.