Yesterday at St. Baldrick's

I didn’t wake up yesterday morning thinking about shaving my head. It was one of those spontaneous moments you have in life where you throw caution, and second and third thoughts, to the wind and just go for it.

This is my daughter’s second go-round for the St. Baldrick’s foundation for her group at Research Triangle High School. She herself participated on a whim last year, and when she came home we all oohhed and ahhed at how soft and fuzzy her head felt. Her hair was only about ½ inch long at prom, so she wore a cute little black bowler hat with her prom dress. I was very proud of her. Society can be a harsh judge when it comes to a young woman’s looks; fortunately, she has never been one to put too much stock in nonsense.

Until she texted me and asked if I had her permission to participate, I never really investigated what, and who, this wonderful foundation supports.

‍St. Baldrick’s Foundation, a non-profit organization, makes this statement on their website, “All childhood cancer research, all the time.” Their goal is not only researching for a cure, but also research for the supportive care for kids on the other side of treatment, where they deal with lifelong issues and chronic problems. 71% of their donations fund this work (a huge amount, some charities only donate 50% of what they raise). They fund cooperative research with the Children’s Oncology Group, which give kids access to the latest research and clinical trials. Their financials are also transparent, which means you know where every part of your dollar is going.

As I walked up onto the stage, I was only a little nervous. I’m not one to be comfortable in front of a crowd, but there was nothing but warmth and good energy everywhere in the room. I met the woman who would be shaving my head, and she greeted me with a big smile. I took a seat. The DJ sat next to me and read my information card.

“I have lost loved ones to cancer, and have cancer survivors among my friends and loved ones as well,” I had written. “I’m doing this for them, and I’m doing it for HOPE.”

When you watch people that you care about go through this struggle, and this suffering, your hope dims. Sometimes, especially when you lose people you love so very dearly, hope can seem snuffed out for good. The grief and pain is visceral, and for a time, inescapable.

But, not yesterday. For me, yesterday was my way of saying, I haven’t given up. I won’t give up on hope for a cure for every child. We have made incredible strides in cancer research. In the 1950’s, almost all kids diagnosed with cancer died. Today, for many children, their prognosis is so much more promising. This is entirely due to the work researchers have done in understanding this illness.

As I watched my hair fall to the floor, I was filled with a renewed sense of hope. I may not be able to pull on a lab coat and help researchers find answers to these complicated problems, but I can do this little thing, this small sacrifice, to enable them to do their work.

Some people grow their hair out for months before this event, but because I hadn’t planned it, I had just been to the stylist, where she worked her magic on my ever-increasing grey locks to grant me another few weeks of illusion. She will laugh when I call her to tell her why I won’t be in next month. She is wonderful that way.

This morning when I woke up, I kept reaching up to brush away the phantom hair I felt on my forehead, only to touch the fuzzy peach head I now sport. I love it. My daughter and I hugged each other and laughed at the bristly contact we made. She is an old pro at this now, and reminds me about preparing for the cold, the sun, and the itchy feeling as my hair grows back in. I feel fortunate, today, to have been part of such a meaningful event yesterday at St. Baldrick's

Leanne Powell, 2017