An interesting article at The New York Times about what happens to all that hair that people donate to charities like Locks of Love. According to Locks of Love, as much as 80 percent of the hair donated is unusable for various reasons (too short, processed, grey, wet). The hair that does make it through often ends up being sold, and not being made into wigs for those who have lost their hair due to cancer treatments.

Most of the wigs that Locks of Love do make actually go to children with alopecia areata, an autoimmune disorder, and not cancer patients.

According to Madonna Coffman, president of Locks of Love, the organization receives up to 10 postal bins of hair a day, most destined for the trash. Coffman notes that checks would be "easier," but "Would the donors get out of it what they do? No."

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

Losing my hair was one of my most traumatic cancer experiences. When first told I needed chemotherapy, I didn't fret about the poisons that would circulate throughout my body, or the nausea that might strike me. What I feared most was losing my hair. It seems silly now. I mean, hair is just hair. If I could trade my hair right now for a guarantee that cancer would never return, I'd do it. But three years ago, when cancer was new and my self-image was faltering, I couldn't stand the thought of losing it.

I did OK once my hair was gone. I found great human-hair wigs and I learned to enjoy my shower-and-go morning routine. I could get ready in an instant. It was all kind of liberating really. Now, don't get me wrong. I was glad when my hair came back. And every day when I look in the mirror, I am comforted by the fact that long dark hair now covers my head. Yes, hair is just hair. But there's just something about it that makes me feel well, happy.

Today, I am grateful for my hair.

Hilary Swank is not your average Hollywood celebrity. She is private, talented and driven to do good things. One of her current projects will benefit the charity Pantene Beautiful Lengths Campaign. This charity collects hair from woman and then creates wigs for patients who have lost their hair to cancer therapy.

Swank, who is currently sporting long locks, will have to grow enough hair to produce an 8 inch pony tail. As per the Pantene requirements, she will not be able to use permanent dyes on her hair and cannot have more than 5% gray in her hair. The actress reports that she is looking forward to donating her hair to a good cause and sporting a new look.

Most women who are faced with hair loss due to radiation or chemo usually get at least one wig and alternate wearing the wig with hats, bandannas, and scarves. Here are a few tips to get ready for wearing a wig and tips on choosing a wig.

If your hair is long, consider having it cut shorter so that switching to a wig or other head attire will be less noticeable. Once your hair begins falling out, many former patients advise shaving your head. This puts you in control of the situation and eliminates finding your hair all over the pillow or in the shower.

Some women rush out and buy an expensive natural hair wig and then regret it later because not only is it expensive but it requires a lot of upkeep. Synthetic wigs are less expensive and are easier to maintain and they look and feel natural. So keep in mind that six months after your last treatment you should have your hair back again. It may not be the same color and texture as before your treatments but it is natural.

Before starting treatments take a current photo of your hair and even save a swatch from the top front of your head in case you want to find a wig close to your present color. Use lighting near a window or outside to match the wig to your hair swatch or photo. if You want to purchase your wig before your hair falls out, measure your head with your hair slicked down. Always measure around the back of your head with a tape measure above your eyebrows and ears. If your head measures between size ranges, choose the larger size. You can also consider buying or using a hat sizer.

The wig will not look natural if it's pulled too far down in front and it should never be placed over your ears. Treat your wig like your own hair when styling and remember your beauty shop or hair salon personnel can always help you with styling your wig just like your own natural hair.

Oakland Athletics center fielder Nick Swisher appeared at Saturday evening's pregame event wearing three ponytails. Prepared to donate his locks to the Pantene Beautiful Lengths non-profit campaign, Swisher said just before his ponytails were snipped, "I feel like Pippi Longstocking. I look so goofy right now. But if I can make a difference in one or two women's lives, it's worth it."

Swisher's father -- major league baseball player Steve Swisher -- did the cutting honors. And it was fitting the two men were in on this endeavor together because Swisher's grandmother -- his dad's mother -- died from brain cancer two years ago.

"The initial idea was out of respect for my mom -- but the second thing is: It's time for a haircut,'' Steve Swisher said. "I'm so proud of Nick. He's bringing attention to a good cause and that's what it's all about.''

Pantene creates free wigs for women dealing with hair loss from cancer treatment.

She said she hopes we get to visit again sometime soon -- without feeling the need to talk solely about breast cancer. I have the same hope. Yet I am deeply satisfied with the conversation we shared about our similar cancer journeys -- mine two years old; hers brand new.

We had never before met -- or even spoken -- and knew each other only from an exchange of e-mails. It was this Cancer Blog that drew us together. She left a comment on one of my posts, I sent her a personal e-mail, and swiftly, our friendship blossomed.

I met my newest cancer friend this weekend -- face-to-face, up close and personal. It was lovely. We talked about chemotherapy -- she just completed her second treatment -- and wigs and radiation and about how our husbands and children cope with cancer. We talked for more than an hour, and then went our separate ways.

And now we are back to e-mail correspondence and our shared hope -- that we will one day meet again, to talk about more than just breast cancer.

I'm sending off my wig to a new friend tomorrow. It's all wrapped and boxed and packaged and ready to travel from Gainesville, Florida to the east coast of the sunshine state where it will land in the hands of a young women newly diagnosed with breast cancer.

This new friend found me here -- on The Cancer Blog -- and we have been corresponding back and forth via e-mail about all sorts of cancer topics -- like surgery and pathology and chemotherapy and most recently, wigs. She asked me just the other day what type of wig I wore after I lost my hair to chemotherapy. I told her I didn't like full wigs, that they felt too unnatural, that I feared my little boys would rip them off my head in the middle of the grocery store. I told her I opted for underhair -- a hairfall of sorts made of plain, white, soft cotton on the top with hair hanging only from the sides and back. It is worn with hats, to cover the cotton part, and it feels quite secure -- although it did sail off my head at the beach one day, compliments of a strong breeze.

I told my new friend that I was completely happy with my choice. I told her the underhair is made of human hair and that customers get to choose the color, texture, length, and size. The wig can be washed, dried, curled, styled, and cut. It looks so real that some people didn't even know chemotherapy took my hair. It was the perfect disguise for me.

I led my new friend in the direction of this wig -- www.hiphat.com -- where she could order her very own handmade underhair. I told her to ask her doctor for a prescription for a cranial prothesis and to see if her insurance company would reimburse her some of the cost of this fairly expensive wig option. And then I realized it would be silly for her to do all this work and spend so much money when my wig is tucked away in my closet, sitting pretty on a nice styrofoam head, doing nothing more than collecting dust.

I don't need my wig anymore. But my new friend does. So tomorrow, it begins traveling her way. And she can keep it for as long as she needs it, for as long as I don't need it. Which I hope is forever.

I've written twice before about a young woman named Diem Brown. I first wrote in August about her appearance as a contestant on MTV's Real World/Road Rules Challenge reality show. I wrote about how despite a recent diagnosis of ovarian cancer, she took herself to Australia to compete in physical and mental challenges with other spunky 20-something competitors. Brown, 25, fought for a cash prize of $250,000 -- while fighting cancer at the same time.

Brown did not win the grand prize, but she did win the admiration and respect of her castmates who on an MTV reunion show applauded her tireless and heroic efforts. In my second post, in September, I wrote about Brown's presence on the reunion show, about her strength, about the great mindset she acquired prior to returning home from Australia for treatment. I wrote about her foundation -- Live for the Challenge -- a wedding-type registry that allows patients to register for prescriptions, wigs, anything that helps them manage their illnesses. I did not write about the wig Brown wore on the show -- but it was apparent she had lost her long, blond hair and was masking the most visible side effect of chemotherapy.

Brown reluctantly yet powerfully unveiled her head on national television just a few nights ago during the beginning of another MTV Real World/Road Rules Challenge. During this installment -- The Duel -- Brown competes again, this time with the shortest of brown hair covering her scalp and with a fierceness that rivals anything she's offered on past shows.

Brown is back. She's in Brazil. And she is beating cancer.

The most recent season of MTV's Real World/Road Rules Challenge reality show has just ended. Customary after each season finale is a reunion show -- where a sampling of contestants recap their experiences, answer questions, confirm or dispel show rumors, and update viewers on the status of their post-television lives. The winners -- a twosome who took home $250,000 -- sit front and center at the reunion and get to bask in the glory of the physical and mental prowess that allowed them to win the big bucks. Two contestants clearly won -- they have the money to prove it. But another contestant -- who didn't take home a dime -- is the true winner in my book.

Diem Brown, 25, was cast on the MTV challenge show before she knew she had ovarian cancer. But prior to the start of the show, Brown did know of her diagnosis -- and she still decided after just a few treatments to head for Australia where she competed in physical stunts and tough competitions. The producers never knew of Brown's illness and she confided in only two castmates while she battled through fatigue and nausea to complete her own personal survival mission. She succeeded -- and she returned home victorious in her own right. And she has no regrets.

On the reunion show, Brown said the show made her more fierce, that she came out of the experience a stronger person, that she tried her hardest, put everything on the line, and didn't feel sorry for herself. And it put her mindset in a great place prior to returning home for continued treatment.

And now Brown is home. She is receiving treatment. And she is managing her foundation -- Live for the Challenge -- a wedding-type registry
where patients can register for wigs, prescriptions, anything critical to the management of their illness.

Ovarian cancer affects one in 50 women, mostly in a silent fashion -- with no overt symptoms until it's often too late. And there is currently no accurate screening for this life-threatening disease that can have tragic outcomes.

Brown seems to be managing just fine with the cancer she calls "the disease that whispers." She is strong, spunky, enthusiastic and positive about life, about her future. She is clearly a winner.

The topic of my hair is often the subject of conversation -- and is a constant reminder that this brown curly hair I have covering my head is nothing like the straight blond hair I was born with, grew up with, was known for. Because my little boys have white blond hair, I am consistently asked by strangers, "Where did your boys get that blond hair?" "From me," is what I want to say because it's the truth -- but that would make no sense to anyone who does not know me, anyone who does not know that my hair -- that once looked much like my boys' hair -- was lost to chemotherapy and returned shockingly different. So sometimes I just chuckle in wonder with these strangers who may not expect an answer anyway. Or I tell them the story -- if they seem to really want in on the details of the mystery. Most people are surprised that my hair grew back like it did. I am not surprised -- I was warned that it might happen -- although it is still a startling discovery each time I look in the mirror, each time I look back at photos, each time I see gray hairs emerging through my dark hair -- gray that only slightly showed up in the midst of my blond locks.

The memory of my blond hair keeps popping up. My husband told me the other day that he had a dream about me -- I was in a restaurant, at a table, by myself. He was walking toward me. And I had blond hair. The rest of the dream is insignificant. The blond hair is significant. And the other day, I pulled my brush out of my purse. It hasn't been used in more than a year -- because I don't brush my curls at all -- and at the base of the brush, wound around the bristles, were long blond strands of hair. My blond hair. My old hair. The same hair I showed my friend who visited from Ohio last week -- the hair that was once on my head, was cut off in preparation of the great fallout, and is now kept in a ziplock bag.

I like my brown hair. I like my curls. But I miss my blond hair. I am sad that I no longer match my children, that I don't look like the bride in my wedding photo, that I will attend my 20-year high school reunion in two years and will wear a photo name tag that looks nothing like me. I like the familiar -- which is why I never wanted to show my bald head, why I covered my head with blond wigs and hats to keep my appearance as close to normal as possible. And then in a strange turn of events, my hair grew back in an unfamiliar fashion -- and somehow the question, "I see where your boys get that blond hair" flip-flopped into "Where did your boys get that blond hair?" It is all still new to me. I know one day it will become familiar and normal and not such a big deal. Some day. I hope.

Willie Hendry, international hairstylist to celebrities -- like actresses Liv Tyler and Keira Knightley, supermodel Kate Moss and pop singer Victoria Beckham -- will donate his collection of professionally-styled wigs to cancer patients at the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh, Scotland.

In addition to donating the wigs, he will be on hand to individually style the wigs for cancer patients. According to the news report, Hendry decided to donate all his wigs after meeting two cancer patients. Hendry's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, so he is sensitive to how devastating chemotherapy-induced hair loss can be during the struggles to survive cancer.

"It isn't the fault of the health service, because a lot of their wigs are absolutely beautiful, but I know that there is a special wig bank that has been set up to help patients and I was very keen to donate all of the wigs I have to them. To get a real human hair wig, you have to pay around £200 and for some people that is an awful lot of money. This will allow them to have a top quality wig for practically nothing," explained Hendry.

This sounds like such a nice gift and gesture -- that he is not only donating wigs but that he will be there to professionally style the wigs for each woman.

Diane Lane, award-winning actress, appeared on NBC's Today Show this morning and had her hair cut off on live television in the official launch of the Pantene Beautiful Lengths campaign. At the same time, 50 women volunteers across the country are having eight inches of their hair cut in a hair donation that will go to making no-cost wigs for women who have lost their hair during chemotherapy cancer treatment.

The campaign is hoping to inspire women and men to make a gift of their healthy hair, cutting it to create wigs for women in need. In addition, Pantene will launch the program with a $1 million donation to the Women's Cancer Research Fund for cancer research.

"This simple act of cutting my hair is going to make a profound difference to a woman who is fighting to regain both her health and sense of self," Lane said. "My dream is that every woman who hears about Pantene Beautiful Lengths will become inspired to grow her hair and donate a natural resource that only she can give." You can watch pre-show outtakes of the broadcast, as well as the Hope Pass it On video at Pantene Beautiful Lengths website. For those that missed the early morning show, NBC has not posted any video coverage of Lane's appearance. Not yet anyway, I checked.

It is said that a heart cannot open until it has been broken. Kevin Paves, called Hollywood's hottest hair guru, was interviewed on the television entertainment news show Extra TV this evening, and as I watched I realized I was watching a human being of genuine and extraordinary kindness shaped by a moment of life-changing tragedy. When Paves was still a teen, his little nephew was born with severe birth defects and died shortly after birth. Pave shared, "At 17 years old, I was holding this still baby who was no longer with us, and I begged him to open his eyes, and I begged God to tell my why."

Paves has gone on to a large measure of success as a hairstylist to the stars, but he has given much in return. Eight years ago, he met and became close friends with Jessica Simpson. The friendship has taken both of them to Congress for Operation Smile, which provides surgeries for disfigured children around the world.

The two have also teamed up with Hair U Wear, a wig manufacturer, to help chemo patients by providing them with wigs and hair extensions. Pave speaks highly of Simpson, saying she has a heart of gold. He speaks humbly of himself. "We're not curing cancer or doing any of these things -- but we can help." Have you ever noticed the some of the best human beings are also the most humble? You can view the interview with Paves as a video feed or slide show at Extra TV.

According to a Look Good Feel Better survey, women who are undergoing treatment for cancer believe they are being treated differently at work because of the physical appearance changes that often occur due to cancer treatments. The survey is being released as part of  National Cancer Survivors Day. Some of the findings in the survey report that:

• 69 percent of women indicated their appearance changed during chemotherapy or radiation.
• 83 percent of women indicated they were self-conscious of their appearance during treatment.
• Almost 50 percent of women indicated that the change in their appearance during treatment resulted in friends and co-workers treating them differently.
• Less than 50 percent of women sought help to cope with appearance-related side effects of cancer treatment.
  

Look Good Feel Better is a free, nationwide cancer support program that matches volunteer beauty professionals with small groups of cancer patients to show them how to use cosmetics, wigs and head coverings to camouflage the hair loss, skin discoloration and extreme dryness that can result for cancer treatments. When you go from struggling with a momentary bad hair day to a continuous no-hair day, or unflattering skin conditions that you did not have before cancer treatments, it can get your spirits down. It can be shocking to look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back. Look Good Feel Better helps 50,000 women each year. For more information about the program, go here.

I always notice women wearing ball caps. I wore them almost every day while I received chemotherapy last year. I used them to cover my bald head -- along with wigs made for ball caps -- because I never could muster up the courage to show the world what was happening to me. So I look at others who wear these hats and wonder if they wear them for the same reason I did. Most times, I can tell they are worn for nothing more than fashion or for a means to disguise a bad hair day -- but there are times when I spot a ball cap that covers the battle scars of a war with cancer. And this makes me sad. And proud. And connected to these women who share an experience with me -- even though we never meet or speak or realize the bond we share. It's like watching another mom with a brand new baby in a stroller -- and knowing how it feels to be that mom with a new life at her fingertips and all the joy and potential (and lack of sleep and worry and tantrums) that lie ahead. It's a silent sisterhood -- being a mom in the world with other moms and being a cancer survivor in the world with other cancer survivors.

I never thought ball caps would be so important in my life. I observe them and analyze them and remember how they cushioned the blow I took when my blond hair left me for good.

My blond, straight hair never came back. Dark, curly hair took its place -- and it now sits underneath a ball cap because I'm having a bad hair day.