We celebrated the last of my six chemotherapy treatments and forty-seven radiation treatments with a hat party. Actually, it was a surprise hat party for me as my neighbor broke into my house and everyone was waiting there after I returned from Tulsa for my last radiation.
Bartlesville readers will probably recognize some of these special people who were part of my support system. A point for each one you identify.
Hats and scarves were integral accoutrements of my wardrobe. I became quite adept at tying and attaching things onto my head. Wigs were not my favorite unless it was a clown wig or a metallic wig or a purple Alice Cooper wig.
But, my very favorite head accessories were my students' caps. As we know, it's frowned upon to let kiddos wear them to school, but for almost an entire school year my students were allowed to bring them to my class. There was a sign-up sheet for me to wear each student's favorite cap. I wore everything from, of course, OSU and OU caps to every business in town, to vacation spots, rock groups, festivals, and every sports team known to man. I advertised products and had no idea what they were for. Signs and symbols that I probably don't want to know what they meant.
The main thing was, we had fun with my baldness. My students were a huge support system. They may not have learned a whole lot from the curriculum in my class that year, but they watched their teacher fight and survive. They learned to never give up. There were days I could hardly get out of my chair, and they understood. They learned compassion. There was not one discipline problem ever. They learned what empathy was.
What did I learn? I learned those sixth graders had hearts of gold. I knew that anyway, but it was especially apparent this year.
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