Snip Snip Sass: Haircuts, Biopsies & Owning My Timeline

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Why I Cut My Hair Before Chemo: Taking Control of Breast Cancer

December 29, 2018

If cancer’s going to show up uninvited, the least I can do is make it follow my rules. So I took the scissors into my own hands—well, Leah’s hands—and started phase one of Operation Sasscut.

I’ve decided this journey—this battle, this dance, this storm—is going to happen on my terms.

Instead of sitting around and waiting for clumps of hair to fall out, I grabbed a spot on Leah’s chair at Moda Hair Salon in Renton and said, “Let’s go short. Real short.” One month of short. Then shorter. Then full-on Guggenmos buzz cut, baby!

Because if you’re going to lose your hair, you might as well look fierce doing it.

Leah worked her magic and gave me a sassy, swingy little crop. She even taught me how to curl it with a flat iron. (This should absolutely be part of oncology training—life-saving AND style-saving tips.)

I walked out feeling empowered. Not because I beat cancer today, but because I made one small, powerful choice. Because I claimed my reflection. Because I started preparing my heart and scalp for what’s next.

Here’s what’s next:

December 31st: Ending the year strong (and slightly sedated) with two more biopsies at 8:15 AM at Overlake.
January 8th: A 4-hour deep-dive meeting at Valley Medical. This will cover planning, treatment options, timelines, and all the gritty details. I’m genuinely excited to meet with them. It took me just 15 minutes to get there yesterday—no traffic, no drama. A small mercy.

As always, we’re praying the new “guests” in my breast are just inflammation. No more unchaperoned tumor parties, please.

Whatever 2019 brings, I’m ready to meet it with humor, grit, reindeer slippers, and freshly curled sass-hair. Happy (almost) New Year to all of you. May it be kind, healing, and wildly filled with love.

You don’t always get to choose the fight. But you do get to choose the wardrobe. The attitude. The haircut. You get to reclaim every inch of power cancer tries to take. And I plan to.

Letter to Self

Dear Me,
You did something brave today. Not because it’s just hair. But because it’s your hair. And you took charge. You made the first move. This is your timeline now. You are allowed to feel scared and strong all at once. Own every strand, every scar, every moment.
With courage and curls,
Me