My friend Tony began making last minute arrangements for the Cancer Benefit Party in my honor. It would be held in three weeks at a huge bar in the South End in Boston. Already over 300 people had RSVP’d ‘yes’. This would be the first of many parties Tony threw in my honor over the next year. Because of my weakened immune system and susceptibility to getting sick, my doctors told me not to travel during treatments. But how could I not attend a party in my honor? Tony was one of my best friends growing up and was an absolute genius at throwing parties because he had a huge network of friends and is always at the center of the action. By 10:30 p.m., over four hundred people packed the inside of the bar. Many of the people I didn’t know or hadn’t seen since junior high and high school. I chose not to wear the wig, so most people commented on my short hair and reached up to pat it or look at the new cut. They all asked how I was doing. Pretending nothing had changed, I tried to keep up with them by doing my share of shots, trying to forget that in three days I would have my next treatment.

After 1 a.m. I don’t remember much except that Tony dragged me home. By 2 a.m. I was passed out on his bed. The next morning I woke up next to him, opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling trying to remember where I was. Tony and I looked at each other without saying anything but instead moaned in pain. My body ached from throwing up and my head was sore. “Did I fall down last night? I asked. “My head kills and it’s not like the pain of a headache, it’s just sore.” What I didn’t realize was that scalp soreness was the beginning of hair loss. I tried to lift myself from the bed to go to the bathroom and when I did, Tony gasped. “What?” I asked as I followed his gaze to my pillow. There was a huge chunk of hair on my pillow. I gagged. It was happening.

I was terrified. Tony and I looked at each other horrified and then started laughing hysterically with tears streaming down our faces. (I always begin laughing when I"m scared or upset.) “This sucks,” I told him, still laughing. “Yeah, but it’s kinda cool,” he admitted. “Can I try pulling one of your hairs out?” he asked.

We then took turns testing out strand by strand. First he took one piece of hair to see if I could pull it out. It came out easily without any pain. Then I took a turn. He tried a tiny handful at once and it all came out painlessly. I told him not to get carried away, because now that it was happening, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to lose it yet.I dressed in a button down rather than a pullover sweatshirt to preserve any extra hair loss. Nonetheless, by the end of the day, my shirt was covered in shedding hair. I felt slightly better than I had been especially without a hangover to add to my sickness. As I was almost back to normal, it was time for my second treatment.