About Chantel Simmons
A firm believer in the rule "If it's not pretty, what's the point?", Editorial Director Chantel Simmons promises to share her sweetest finds - from lipgloss that shines (not sticks), jeans that flatter and books that will make you want to turn the page, not rip it out.
Blonde Ambition
the cherry on top Canada
(Oct.08.09)
Guest blog post by Claudia Infusino
Last week I had long, dark hair that hung to my waist.
Today, I have a platinum blonde mohawk that’s channeling Madonna circa 1992. And I’m loving it. Since my hair’s going to fall out in a few weeks, I figure I might as well have fun with it.
I have cancer.
I’d actually been growing my hair since my mother died of lymphoma almost five years ago. I was planning to donate it so that someone else going through cancer could get a really nice wig made from parts of my virgin brown hair. Ironic, I know. Then my boyfriend proposed and so I decided I’d wait to chop it until after the wedding next April. Then I found out I had breast cancer.
So to recap: I’m blonde because I’m going to be bald in a few weeks, with chemotherapy and radiation on the way, and a spring wedding to plan. Did I mention I’m only 25?
How I found out: Last April I was showering before bed and felt a small, hard nugget in my right breast, so the next morning I went to see my doctor. She sent me for an ultrasound and mammogram but reassured me I was too young for cancer and that many women have hard nodules and cysts in their boobs, too. So I didn’t panic. Those tests came back inconclusive and the doctors advised me to come back in six months or have a biopsy if I wanted to clear my mind. So we did the biopsy – just to be sure – and then waited for the results.
With all the reassurance and discussions I’d had with other women about having similar breast issues, I wasn’t worried. The day I went to get the biopsy results, I waltzed into the doctor’s office without a care. And then the doctor dropped the cancer bomb. Insert me, a look of utter shock and disbelief on my face.
After many more tests and doctor appointments, and thinking about whether or not I needed to lose my entire breast, I ended up having just the 0.8-mm tumor removed, along with a hunk of flesh a little larger than a golf ball. They also removed some lymph nodes to check for microscopic spreading of cancer cells. Luckily there was none.
My cancer is also hormone sensitive, which means once I’m done chemo and radiation I’ll be taking anti-hormone pills for three years to keep my hormones as low as possible. It’ll put me into temporary menopause but aside from the mood swings and hot flashes, I don’t have to worry about my period. See? There is an upside.
My wedding is on schedule despite the fact that I’ll be bald when I say “I do”, but if my husband-to-be can say it back knowing I’ve got a shiny head under my wig and veil, I think it’s a pretty good sign he’ll stand by me through anything. I feel great with my short blonde hair, and even anticipate buzzing it all off before it falls out. I’m also stoked to buy sexy wigs and play around like some sort of movie star. I’m obviously not thrilled to have to go through this ordeal, but I feel confident and know that everything I can do and that can be done for me is being done.
Instead of being angry with someone or something, I’ve decided to stick to the bright side. Rocking anything but a positive vibe just wouldn’t be much fun, now would it?
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