This entry is a long time coming, 6 years to be exact. It is the story of my journey with Alopecia. I have drafted and thought about writing this for years, but never had the courage until now. The fear of opening the door for the world to see too painful for me to bear, as if I were somehow weak to acknowledge my vulnerability even though consciously I knew the opposite to be true. It is a summary and there are many moments not included, but I’m sure you’ll get the idea…
I always had a great head of hair, thank my mom for the wavy curls, my stylist and friend for keeping it perfectly cut. It was long, flowing and necessarily low maintenance as I’ve never been one to fuss. I took pride in the bouncy pony tail and the feeling of the wind flowing through it when I ran…
It was late in 2005 that I sat in my stylists chair and heard her utter the words ‘you have a small bald patch on the back of your head’ She cut strategically with perfection, it was an area I could scarcely see, it being behind me and all, and the words didn’t really register. A few months went by and I noticed an increase in the hairs on my pillow and strays left in the shower. I pulled out the mirror to see the patch she’d mentioned had grown and other spots begun to appear. I noticed my pony tails, once bouncy and full, looking thinner and more areas of my scalp beginning to show. I vividly recall a friend I hadn’t seen in a while commenting on a spot I’d neglected to cover, I shrugged it off, still unable, or unwilling to face the reality of what was happening to my golden locks. As a woman the concept of losing ones hair was something I’d never even considered and until it happened to me, I’d never even heard the word Alopecia.
Frightened, unsure and a little in denial, I began a journey into strategically placed hats and headwear, bandanas, scarves and clip on pieces to maintain the illusion of a ‘normal’ head of hair. Soon the scarves no longer covered and the clip-ons had little to clip to. Hats and caps became my go to look with what hair I had tucked underneath or sticking out in skinny pigtails on either side. Interestingly no one really commented, I’m certain they noticed, but were too polite to ask, and truthfully if they had, I’m not certain I was ready to share.
It was the summer of 2006 that I finally called upon my stylist and friend, and requested a trip to the ‘wig’ store to pick something to cover my failing tresses. Temporarily, of course, as I still believed that my hair would rebound any day. My first piece was inexpensive as far as wigs go (and my second and 3rd…) as the denial ran deep that this could be anything permanent. It seemed silly to invest in something that was sure to be a short-term thing. I chose auburn curls as I’d always been a blond and a playful change seemed appropriate. The process was kind of fun I kept telling myself, like playing dress up. I refused to acknowledge the pain I felt inside. I felt like an outsider looking in, as I chose the hair I would wear, and listened as my friend instructed on how to wash and style it on a ‘head’ that was not my own.
The small amount of hair I still had continued to fall until finally I could bear it no more. The sight of my scalp and the sparse strands that were left, the tears I choked back as I viewed my patchy head in the mirror morning and eve causing me more pain than the thought of nothingness. An evening of tears and a decision made, the next day I called upon my friend, filled with strength and determination and asked that she come and shave my head. No hair must be better than this. She showed up with clippers and we said goodbye to what was left of my golden locks. I sat raw and exposed as the day I was born with nowhere to hide but no tears fell that day, I was ready.
I stepped forth with confidence, the next day arising to a beautiful sunshiny Vancouver day, I pulled on my workout gear and headed out for a run. Ready to expose my shiny, (and pale) scalp to the world. I felt strong as I ran my usual route by the water, lighter somehow, feeling free of the masks. This is me! I faltered once, as I encountered a friend, his fear and concern visible as he questioned the loss of my flowing hair, apparently the caps had hidden it well. I recovered my ground and let the warmth of the sun propel me forward…
My confidence grew and bathing a breeze! I became quite adept with a razor, maintaining the fuzzy patches that regrew upon my head. I was still quick to cover up for clients and old friends, a little unsure of how to really ‘Rock the Bald’ and consciously avoiding the questioning looks. The ruse of ball caps and my own hair no longer an option, I began to play with other hair pieces and frequented the wig stores in search of something that felt like me. I played with long and short, platinum blonde, red, a dark ‘Posh Spice’ looking number and many in-between. I kept things consistent with work, but played with different looks in my free time, trying to see the journey as a playful experience and continuing to tell myself it was only hair…
As months rolled into years it became clear that my hair was not to regrow, in fact I proceeded to lose ALL of my hair from eyebrows to lashes and everything in between, challenging my make-up skills with false lashes and the perfect painted on brows. I quickly grew tired of hearing how lucky I was to have a nice shaped head and a beautiful face. As if that somehow made up for the fact that I was bald. I know they were trying to be nice but honestly it didn’t’ help. I’d feel the pain and anger bubbling within, seeking acknowledgement…Fortunately, perspective was never far away and the trials and tribulations I saw others face, made my struggles seem tiny in comparison.
The daily discomfort of cheap wigs finally prompting me to up the price point and invest in something of better quality for my head. If this was my fate, I owed it to myself to be comfortable. My friend had sourced out a well made piece that was still reasonably priced as far as wigs go. It was a good colour and reminded me a little of my old hair. We fixed it up with a personalized cut and a little colour and my new/old look was born. I purchased a second so that one could be washed and styled while the other was worn.
Workouts and sports were played in bandanas, colour coded to match the day’s outfit, of course! A few knew of my story, others likely suspected but were too kind to inquire. I shared to those I thought should know, but the moment of vulnerability reserved for those I trusted. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have its share of hurts along the way. I recall many a day on the volleyball courts, trying to tune out the comments of passers-by as I dove around the sand in my bikini and matching bandana, no one brave enough to ask the questions but happy to speculate about the ‘C’ word, unaware of how their voices travel. Daggers in the heart, yet once more I’d remind myself, it was only hair…
As a single person, dating became an even more interesting experience and something I grew to dread. The often superficiality of society making for a conversation that wasn’t easy and although I was otherwise healthy, I could feel the unasked questions as I shared my secret. The inability or lack of desire of another to deal with ‘less than normal’ made clear by the halting of communication afterwards…There were others of course, that would see beyond, see me for me and chose to explore the possibilities…but few asked real questions, although I was open, hopeful even, that they would choose to know more. Wigs were just plain easier most of the time. For everyone.
Did I ever seek answers you ask? You bet. Research. Doctors. My GP saying ‘Autoimmune response. Stress perhaps. We don’t know why.’ My health otherwise good, just a body choosing not to grow hair. Shortly after I’d lost it all, my Doctor suggested I see a local ‘hair specialist’ I willingly said yes, keeping the hope alive that I may regrow more than just the patchy peach fuzz that sometimes donned my scalp. I remember the day well, anxiously waiting the man who may help me to be me again. He walked in with his team of students to examine my health forms and scalp. He proceeded to recommend cortisone injections throughout my scalp that ‘hopefully’ would stimulate the follicle to grow. When prompted if I had questions, I said yes, Why? If I am otherwise healthy, why won’t my body naturally grow hair? Is there something else happening and shouldn’t we find out what before injecting me with steroids? He kind of shrugged his shoulders, glanced at my blood work, said he didn’t know and encouraged me to book for injections the following week. I told him I’d think about it. I left the office knowing I wouldn’t be back. I returned to my car and cried. The hope for answers and the possible return of my golden locks shattered. Finally acceptance and acknowledgement that I would likely not have hair again and that was ok. The challenges I watched others face over the years left me grateful that mine was only aesthetic, easily disguised if I so desired.
December of 2009 things declined for me health wise. I suffered a number of stressful emotional events in quick succession, and my body rebelled. It responded with varying levels of inflammation. I was forced to rest, and worked as much as I could but as little as possible. The remainder of my schedule balanced with rest and Dr visits to try to sort out the underlying cause. No answers on paper, yet visibly unwell, I searched for relief holistically, as the Western system was unable to provide me with more than a prescription for a cause they didn’t know. Massage, Homeopathy, Chinese herbs, Allergists and even psychology. Was it all in my head I wondered?
Relief came slowly, with regular acupuncture and chiropractic seeming to give me the best results and by the fall of 2010 I had begun to heal, regain strength and feel a little more like myself. After the trials of the last year, I was grateful to be feeling better but greedy for more. Inflammation at bay and the re-emergence of a few sprouts of hair on my scalp had me considering going back to the ‘hair guy’ to see what could be done for my Alopecia. I wanted my hair!! Conversations with my chiropractor and Acupuncturist brought forth a few other options before going the injection route, and we decided on once weekly cold laser treatments to see what could be done.
December 2010 had me with the most significant, albeit patchy, growth I’d had in years and it carried forth into 2011. Eyelashes and brows began to emerge and March marked the first haircut I’d had in over 5 years! On March 9, 2011 I stopped wearing wigs. For good. I still had hair to fill in and returned to strategically placed headbands , but the curls poking out were mine once more!! A few short months later, I had enough growth to leave the headbands behind and am happy to report my hair continues to grow. We stopped the laser treatments late spring and have left my body to do what it miraculously does. To heal. To grow.
In hindsight I can only best describe it as my own personal Phoenix process. 5 years of no hair, 10 + months of burning from the inside out, and rebirth in 2011! I am grateful to a talented team of practitioners that guided me along the way and the continued support of family and friends.
I am still met with puzzled expressions, but for a different reason. Everyone wants to know what I did, what changed. Was it the laser? Chiropractic? Acupuncture? Nutrition? Rest? Desire? or a combination of all of the above? I don’t know that we’ll ever really know why my hair has regrown, I do believe something shifted the day I chose to want something different. I wanted my hair and I went after it. The rest all seemed to fall into place…
In health, wellness and hair,
Dayna
Links of mention:
www.canaaf.org Alopecia awareness
www.evolvevitality.com Dr. Shamira Rahim (chiropractor), Patricia Petersen (R.Ac) women of wisdom and healing,
www.evaandcowigs.com – these ladies helped me maintain my ‘do’s', a selection of wigs to purchase, plus washing and styling
www.anxietyandstresshelp.com James Stabler – he helped confirm my sanity!
Booty Walks
Pain is a sign to stop and seek counsel (Dr, Physio, Chiro etc) Learn to know the difference.
