Between the time I first noticed something was wrong with me and the time I started treatment was a very short time. I had just started to come to grips with the fact that I had cancer… and then my hair starting falling out. This hit my family hard as it was concrete thing they could visualize. I decided that morning I wasn’t going to let cancer take my hair. I took charge and shaved it myself. My mom, my best friend and I had a shave party in my hospital room. We strategically planned the cut and went from punk, to hipster, to mohawk rocker to the “papa cut.” It turned a horrible experience into a fun, happy memory. In the end, I continue to rock my baldness.