I started Cooler Heads because I remember that cold ripple of fear down my back when I was told I had cancer. I was 42 and there was no history of breast cancer in my family. It was October 2016, and as the rest of the world obsessed over the presidential election, I got ready to face cancer treatment.

I have been lucky–if you can say that about a diagnosis of stage 2b breast cancer. I underwent 8 cycles of chemo (4 of A/C and 4 of Taxol), had a lumpectomy and lymph node dissection, had 6 weeks of radiation, and wrapped up treatment with 8 cycles of Xeloda to make sure the cancer was indeed gone. I found out from nurses that Claritin would help with the bone pain from Neulasta. I realized that if I set a timer for every 8 hours on the dot to remind me to take my Zofran, I could more or less cope with the nausea, even if it meant waking up at 3 in the morning to take a pill. I discovered that arnica really does amazing things to heal surgical incisions and bruising. I learned that Effexor could help alleviate the hot flashes that started with a vengeance about 6 weeks into treatment.

I also had the incredible good luck to find out, before I started chemo, that I could keep my hair.

I am one of thousands of women who have used dry ice caps because that was the only available option. Like most dry ice cappers, I paid a cold cap "coach" because I didn’t want to burden a friend or family member with helping me.  It cost me $8,000 to keep my hair, and I still almost lost it when my "coach" quit halfway through my treatment and I had to scramble to find a replacement.  The financial burden was intense but I was lucky to be able to afford it.  Most patients can't.

It’s time to reinvent cold caps. They should be easy for a patient to use on their own, and they should be affordable. It’s already an overwhelming financial burden to be sick. Why should a patient have to face another huge financial burden just to preserve their physical appearance during treatment?

I am on a mission to revolutionize and evangelize cold cap therapy. I want all solid-tumor patients to have the choice to look in the mirror and see a person they recognize.

Cancer treatment is hard enough. Those who face the daunting gauntlet of treatment have to give up so much of themselves to face treatment. They shouldn’t have to give up their identity too.

Wishing you all strength,
Kate