-You're rocking a sweet ass Halloween costume
-Your best friend has decided to do a 70's themed bachelorette party complete with Afros
-You want to know how 'Pretty woman-esque' you'd look in a blonde bob
Trying on wigs is not fun when:
-It's a cold, rainy and otherwise miserable day very reminiscent of your current mood
-Your doctor has just told you he thinks you have alopecia
-Your long distance boyfriend is coming to visit the next day
Post doctor appointment #2, my friend and I headed to a local wig shop. Considering how heartbroken I was feeling about my situation I was still looking forward to trying on some wigs. I was still in denial about the fact that I was likely going to lose all of my hair, so I was trying to look at wig shopping as a fun thing to do. Something that was just going to be temporary. Something I could do to try out a new 'look'. Something to cover up my growing insecurities.
Let me just start by saying that the woman at the wig store was amazing. Kind, caring and attentive. It just didn't turn out to be the experience that I wanted it to be.
First off, I didn't realize all the wigs that they carried were made out of synthetic hair. Knowing what I know now, this isn't really a big deal. But on that day I just remember feeling really disappointed. The term 'synthetic wig' just reminded me of a costume shop- all I could think was 'I'm going to look like a fool. People will know this is fake hair and they're going to make fun of me or ask too many questions that I don't want to answer'. At the time this was everything I wanted to avoid. I didn't want people to know I was wearing a wig, I wanted to look like myself.
The woman who was helping us explained a bit more about the wigs that they carried, advantages of short vs long wigs and the kind of adjustments or alterations they could make to each style. She then encouraged us to look around and pull the styles I thought would most suit my needs.
Here's the other thing about looking at wigs:
Somehow, no matter what the style, when a wig is on a plastic mannequin head it always ends up looking like a bad 80's hair do.
Again, not thrilled.
After picking out a few styles that I thought might be alright, I took a seat in the salon type chair to give them a go. At first things were alright. The wigs didn't look like my hair but they didn't look quite as unnatural as I thought they might. What it did feel like was a lot of hair. My hair was always super fine and stuck pretty close to my head whereas putting on a wig made me feel like I was at least 3 inches taller. But, 'wigs can be thinned' I was reassured, 'things can be trimmed and styled to make you feel more comfortable'.
Like I said, things were ok at first. The rails came off the tracks when the store worker made a comment about my hair. You see, the wig cap I was wearing underneath the wigs kept sliding off my uber fine hair.
'You're hair is so fine and soft. My hair was the same way'.
At which point she removed her own wig to show me her bald head (which was actually super comforting because I legitimately had no idea she was wearing one).
'You know there are support groups in the city...for alopecia. I know when I was diagnosed I felt super alone but the support really helped'.
Cue the ugly cry.
Like U-G-L-Y
It wasn't anything she said and she was really so so so lovely about everything but this was the first time someone that I didn't know and that wasn't in the medical field had suggested I had alopecia.
I had mixed emotions.
On one hand I was angry,
'How can she say I have alopecia? She doesn't know. She's not a doctor. Just because she has alopecia doesn't mean that I do too.'
On the other hand I was heartbroken,
'Well she has alopecia so she knows what it's like. So I must have it too.'
I managed to pull myself together to try on a few more wigs but soon after decided to call it a day. An emotionally exhausting day.
The next day I headed to the airport to pick up my long-distance-love-of-my-life boyfriend. We hadn't seen each other in 3 months and I was so incredibly relieved to have him around. I spent most of that weekend crying into his shoulder off and on (nothing says I love you and I missed you like crying at the drop of a hat right???).
My GP was able to get me some sort of an accelerated appointment with a dermatologist that Monday afternoon so I put on my scarf and off we went to the doctor.
Now...we will talk about dermatologists in a later post so for now I'll be brief...
Ever been in a dermatologist's office?
I'm not sure what I was expecting but this is what I got:
The set of the Real Housewives of Edmonton.
At least that's what it felt like.
The office was cloaked in cheesy decor and ads for 'longer lashes, fuller lips, no wrinkles!', sculptures lined the counters and when I registered I was informed that the 'skin care record' was a mandatory form. 'But I thought I was here for my hair....'
When we finally got into the room the nurse took a 30 second history and went to get the doctor. My visit with him was brief. He took a quick look at me, pulled out a few of my hairs and said,
'You have telogen effluvium'
'Even though I'm going bald?'
'Yes. It's TE. We will do some blood work to ensure there is nothing else going on but your hair will grow back and you will be fine.'
A wave of relief washed over me. I mean he is the expert after all....
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