 Part I of Tricia's blog |
 Part II of Tricia's blog |
 Part III of Tricia's blog |
 Part IV of Tricia's blog |
 Part V of Tricia's blog |
 Part VI of Tricia's blog |
 Part VII of Tricia's blog |
 Tricia Andron-One Year Later HOT by Hair's How first had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Tricia through Michael Albor of Michael Albor's The Loft Salon & Day Spa in Boston. Here, we reflect on Tricia's first chemo session and when she, her husband, Lee and crew of friends ceremoniously headed to The Loft Salon & Day Spa to support Tricia as she shaved her hair. One year later, Albor reflects on his journey with Tricia-from the perspective of her hairdresser. "As a hairdresser, you feel like you're helping other people, but they end up helping you," says Michael Albor. He says that Tricia has handled the whole experience with optimism and grace. "She brightens up the entire salon when she comes in. She was sensitive in the beginning, but through the support of her husband Lee and friends, she has embraced it all." To match her spirit, Albor created a radiant platinum blond color for Tricia. "She's definitely found that platinum blonds have more fun!" Stay tuned. HOT will soon be posting updates from Tricia on where this courageous, optimistic woman is-exactly one year later. |
 Part VIII of Tricia's blog |
Our trip to Greece now in question, it had become something more than just a fabulous vacation and a time to reconnect. We needed this trip…to be together, to recoup and to gather our strength as a family for what lay ahead. A week before we were scheduled to leave, we met with the doctor at Boston IVF, who told us that if we were able to harvest any eggs, the procedure would have to be done during the coming week and we would not be able to go to Greece. We were scheduled to retu July 27th, with chemo scheduled for July 29th. Prolonging treatment any further was too great of a risk. The doctor stressed that there were no guarantees that IVF would enable us to have another child.
Before my diagnosis, my intent was to have another baby-I wanted it more than anything. I went home that night, awaiting test results from the clinic, feeling as though I had to make a choice between another child and a trip my family so desperately needed. 
In my head, I knew that it wasn't that simple, but my heart ached. I've often had people tell me how strong I am or how well I'm doing, and I wondered, "What else would I do? Curl up in a ball and cry?" I'd rather make the most of things and have a little fun. With a little humor, I do my best to avoid that moment when it would come crashing down… when the enormity of the situation would be too much to ignore and you finally do curl up in a ball and cry. Standing in the driveway in front of the fertility clinic, I called my best friend and had a meltdown, crying for all of the plans that cancer had forced me to rearrange, the awful situation I found myself in and for myself. By the time I hung up the phone, I had cried myself out and was determined to regain control of the situation in the best way I could. I decided to go to Greece.
In the remaining week before leaving for Greece, I had to pack, prepare for my sister's wedding, and do "chemo prep" - which included filling various prescriptions, least popular of which was a prescription for a prosthetic hair piece (aka wig). I found myself wondering if perhaps, by chance, I would be the one woman whose hair was strong enough to withstand chemotherapy. I wish I could say that I was one of those women who just didn't care, but I'd be lying. I was told that my hair would fall out nearly three weeks after my first treatment. With everything I was juggling, I couldn't imagine how I would have the time to find a wig, much less think about how I might feel about losing my hair. I had visited "Windows of Hope," the gift shop on the oncology floor of my hospital that sold wigs, hats and scarves. Everyone in the shop looked like my grandmother and I couldn't find myself relating to any of it. I felt like screaming, "This is not my grandmother's breast cancer!" and running away.
So, I did what any girl would do and tued to an expert…my hairdresser. I had been going to The Loft Salon & Day Spa on Newbury St., Mass. for the past six years, and had an appointment scheduled for a cut and color in the last days before my trip. I tentatively shared my diagnosis with my stylist, still not fully comfortable with my membership in the breast cancer club. Before I knew it, Michael Albor, the owner of the salon, had a plan in place, setting up a meeting with his team to help me find a wig that suited my face, style, coloring and life. They said they would email me some options while I was on vacation, and I could have my new "prosthetic hairpiece" as soon as I got home. I left the salon that day with a reinforced conviction that I could make the most out of this situation, have a little fun and have the upper hand over cancer. Not only would I not have to wear a grandma wig, but I could still look and "be" fabulous throughout this treatment. Soon, I was hatching a plan to throw a head-shaving party at the salon upon my retu from Greece. If I was going to lose my hair, I was going to do it my way. I began sending emails to my best girlfriends and making preliminary plans for the party at the salon. I only hoped Michael would be as excited about it as I was.
Before I knew it, I was sitting in Logan airport, awaiting our British Airways flight to London, where we would connect to Athens. I absentmindedly watched Lee chase Gracie around the terminal waiting area as I pulled my "cancer gift" from the bag. Lee had given me an iPad just before we left for the airport, a gift he hoped I would use to write. I've always wanted to be a writer, but as a full-time working mother and wife, I never seemed to have the time for it. I decided to start off with a travel joual. Documenting our vacation somehow seemed easier than writing about breast cancer and my feelings, though I knew that it would all come out in the wash. I hardly imagined that two months later, what began as a travel joual would end up as a blog on the HOT by Hair's How website.
Here's one of my entries: Friday, July 22nd - I don't have words for this place. Best. Vacation. Ever. It's hard to focus on writing and not just staring into the caldera." We spent a week living in a historic cave house in Oia, Santorini. Every moing, we put Gracie in her sling and walked up a steep path that wound up the hill and through the maze of cave houses. As we walked to our favorite cafe, shop owners would stop to say "kalimera" (good moing) and fawn over Gracie, giving her gifts of grapes or sweets. Moings were spent napping, writing or swimming in the little pool outside on our patio. We took Gracie everywhere, exploring the black sand beaches of Perissa, on a nail-biting drive up a mountain to the temple of Thira and on a catamaran cruise. After putting Gracie to bed each night, Lee and I sat on our patio sharing a bottle of wine and marveling at our good fortune.
We had the most amazing vacation and, in spite of knowing that the rubber would meet the road as soon as we got back, we relished every second under the Santorini sky. Toward the end of our trip, I lay in bed, feeling the tumor in my left breast. It had become frighteningly large. As wonderful as our time in Greece had been, I knew it was time to head home and start kicking some cancer ass.
| Part I of Tricia's blog |
| Part II of Tricia's blog |
| Part III of Tricia's blog |
| Part IV of Tricia's blog |
| Part V of Tricia's blog |
| Part VI of Tricia's blog |
| Part VII of Tricia's blog |
| Tricia Andron-One Year Later HOT by Hair's How first had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Tricia through Michael Albor of Michael Albor's The Loft Salon & Day Spa in Boston. Here, we reflect on Tricia's first chemo session and when she, her husband, Lee and crew of friends ceremoniously headed to The Loft Salon & Day Spa to support Tricia as she shaved her hair. One year later, Albor reflects on his journey with Tricia-from the perspective of her hairdresser. "As a hairdresser, you feel like you're helping other people, but they end up helping you," says Michael Albor. He says that Tricia has handled the whole experience with optimism and grace. "She brightens up the entire salon when she comes in. She was sensitive in the beginning, but through the support of her husband Lee and friends, she has embraced it all." To match her spirit, Albor created a radiant platinum blond color for Tricia. "She's definitely found that platinum blonds have more fun!" Stay tuned. HOT will soon be posting updates from Tricia on where this courageous, optimistic woman is-exactly one year later. |
| Part VIII of Tricia's blog |
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