The Unspoken Power of a Haircut: Dignity in End-of-Life Care
There’s something profoundly human about the act of caring for someone’s appearance, especially when they’re facing their final days. It’s not just about aesthetics—it’s about dignity, connection, and a fleeting sense of normalcy. This thought struck me when I read about Kelly Wingard, a hairdresser in Rockhampton, who volunteers her time to give free haircuts to terminally ill patients at the Fitzroy Community Hospice. What makes this particularly fascinating is how such a simple gesture can carry so much weight.
Beyond the Scissors: The Emotional Impact of a Haircut
Personally, I think we underestimate the psychological impact of feeling put together, especially in moments of vulnerability. Kelly’s work isn’t just about trimming hair; it’s about restoring a piece of someone’s identity. As she rightly points out, when our hair isn’t right, it can affect our entire outlook. For patients dealing with hair loss from treatments or illness, a haircut can be a small but powerful way to reclaim a sense of self.
What many people don’t realize is that end-of-life care isn’t just about medical treatment—it’s about preserving humanity. Kelly’s story highlights a gap in our healthcare system: the need for holistic care that addresses emotional and psychological well-being. It’s easy to focus on the clinical aspects of palliative care, but these small acts of kindness remind us that patients are people first, not just diagnoses.
The Hidden Gaps in End-of-Life Care
The opening of the Fitzroy Community Hospice in 2024 was a significant step for central Queensland, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Megan Anderson, the hospice’s clinical services manager, points out that while facilities like this are crucial, there are still systemic gaps. A 2025 survey revealed that only one in three Australians have planned their end-of-life care. This statistic is alarming, but it’s also a call to action.
From my perspective, the reluctance to plan for end-of-life care stems from a cultural aversion to discussing death. We’re taught to avoid the topic, yet it’s one of the few certainties in life. Megan’s insight that healthcare providers don’t know our personal values or wishes unless we express them is a critical point. If you take a step back and think about it, this lack of communication can lead to decisions being made for us, rather than by us.
The Bigger Questions We’re Avoiding
This year’s National Palliative Care Week theme, Big questions, real answers, couldn’t be more timely. Louise O’Neill, CEO of Palliative Care Queensland, highlights the kinds of questions people grapple with after receiving a terminal diagnosis: Will it be painful? Who will care for my loved ones? What do I want my legacy to be? These aren’t just philosophical musings—they’re practical concerns that deserve thoughtful answers.
One thing that immediately stands out is how unprepared we are as a society to have these conversations. We’re great at planning for births, weddings, and careers, but death? Not so much. Louise’s point that 70 people a day in Queensland die without having planned their end-of-life care is a stark reminder of the consequences of avoidance. Planning isn’t just about the individual—it’s about easing the burden on those left behind.
The Uneven Landscape of Palliative Care
While Australia’s palliative care system is better than many, it’s far from perfect. Louise notes that regional areas, like Biloela, often lack access to specialist care. Patients are forced to travel to larger towns like Rockhampton or Gladstone, which adds stress to an already difficult situation. This raises a deeper question: why is end-of-life care still so unevenly distributed?
What this really suggests is that we’re failing to prioritize palliative care as a fundamental right. The expiration of Queensland’s Palliative and End-Of-Life Care Strategy on June 30 is a critical moment. While the government assures us that care won’t degrade, the lack of a renewed strategy feels like a missed opportunity. If we’re serious about improving end-of-life care, we need long-term commitments, not just promises.
A Call to Action: Small Acts, Big Impact
Kelly Wingard’s dedication to her volunteer work is a reminder that change often starts at the individual level. She makes time for the hospice because, as she puts it, “we’re all going to need it one day.” This sense of collective responsibility is something we should all embrace.
In my opinion, the story of Kelly and the Fitzroy Community Hospice isn’t just about haircuts or hospices—it’s about the kind of society we want to be. Do we want a system that treats end-of-life care as an afterthought, or one that prioritizes dignity, compassion, and humanity?
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on this, I’m struck by how much we can learn from people like Kelly. Her work isn’t just about cutting hair—it’s about cutting through the discomfort we have around death and dying. It’s a reminder that even in our final days, we deserve to feel seen, valued, and cared for.
If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: end-of-life care isn’t just a medical issue—it’s a human one. And it’s up to all of us to ensure that no one faces their final days without the dignity and support they deserve.
