Support

This morning Becky called me while I was getting ready for work. She told me she'd gone ahead and shaved her head yesterday. She starts radiation on Monday, and they're going to give her a tatoo to mark where they will be focusing the laser. She said "I have a question for you, and I understand if you say no. You don't have to answer right now, just think about it. Would you consider shaving your head in support of me?" I knew my answer as soon as she asked. I said "Yes, I will do that!" then, knowing she wouldn't take the answer right then, added "I will definitely consider that," and we talked about the possibilities of my coming out there for a few days.

I couldn't concentrate for very long at a time at work. I spent the morning mulling over the idea of shaving my head as a way to experience a small part of what she was going through. The significance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ stuck out boldly in my head. He's experienced EVERYTHING, even Becky's cancer. I can't do that, but I can give my hair up for a few months, like she's doing, and share a small part in her experience. It hit me that for the past week I'd been thinking of her cancer as a life and death scenario. Either she was going to get through this or she might not...but considering the reality of the fact that she'd shaved her head made things a lot more real. This isn't an 'I make it or I don't' kind of situation. It's a million little different things that she's going to endure. It's the diagnosis, and seeing the progression of the cell growth over just days on two different MRIs. It's losing that beautiful hair. It's wearing bandanas and scarves. It's headaches and fatigue. It's wishing that the people around her would just cry with her. It's starting radiation therapy. And steroids. And medications. And then Chemo. And...and...

This is a trial with - only God knows how many - different tiny experiences. Something to endure through. And all I can really do with her is cry and pray and shave my head. But not the really scary stuff. I can't even fathom what it's like for her.

A few years ago, Becky came home to find me talking on my phone, with a turtleneck sweater wrapped and tied around my head in a somewhat turban-like fashion. I had absentmindedly worked it up so that it would stay on my head while I carried on a conversation and cooked some dinner. Occasionally, I'd turn up with my hair tied up in a dish towel, or something, and she'd laugh at me and point out the headpiece I'd forgotten about. We decided I had some kind of subconscious obsession with things on my head. A few weeks later, she gave me a large green and gold-ish cloth for my birthday. It was my very own head wrap. I wore it several times, out around the city, to church, or just to lounge in in the house. I loved it. I haven't worn it in a few years, but when I see it in my drawer, I always smile.

This morning the thought crossed my mind how full circle this situation has come...I have an opportunity to put the headwrap to good use, and as I wear it on my bald head, I get support the woman who gave it to me all that time ago.

She called me again after lunch to tell me that if I could work it out, she really wanted me to come be with her. I said I would, and that I was going to shave my head tomorrow.