The Hair Massacure

Last week I had the pleasure of shaving my brother's head. 

It was super satisfying.

For those of you who don't know, the Hair Massacure is a local fundraiser for our children's hospital and the Make a Wish Foundation.  Participants collect donations and then head down to West Ed on the event day to line up and have their heads shaved.  Most participants opt to dye their hair pink in January as a way to bring awareness to the campaign and add a little more fun to the fundraiser.

My brother did just that. 

I wanted to shave Michael's head for 2 reasons:

1. When else do you have the opportunity to take clippers to your brother's head and not get in shit for it?

2. I wanted to know what it felt like to shave someone's hair off (I was always too chicken to do the event on my own and now won't really have the chance ;) )

I was surprised at how nervous my brother was to shave his head, especially considering he had participated in the event before.  He mentioned how many people had commented on how 'brave' he was to dye his hair pink but no one had really mentioned anything about the hair shaving bit.  It's funny how people just assume that men will be ok with having their head shaved but not ok with having funky coloured hair.  For Michael, the apprehension was in the head shaved itself, he would walk around with pink hair for a long time and not really been fazed by it but the thought of having a closely shaved head bothered him.  I don't blame him.

I think men affected by alopecia are often over looked. 'Oh it's easier for men. It's normal for them to be bald' is often uttered but how true is it? Sure, it is more common for men to lose their hair or have receding hair lines but does it mean that it affects them less? I mean, here is my brother who is not an overly vain man, who knows his hair is going to grow back, and he's still a bit nervous about shaving it off (of which I don't blame him and he took it like a champ.  The only potential for watery eyes was from when I got hair in them because apparently you're supposed to shave it front to back not back to front.  I don't have hair! How am I supposed to know????). Point is losing your hair sucks. Man or woman.

After the shave we got interviewed by the news (see clip below....hopefully.  If it works fast forward to 12:00) Not going to lie, because this fundraiser is for cancer research I felt obliged to tell the cameraman that I do not in fact have cancer.  Hard to say if he was going to ask about it but I wanted to avoid an awkward situation :)

Thanks for letting me shave your head Mikalev :). Let's do it again sometime ;)

http://edmonton.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=811262&binId=1.1203553&playlistPageNum=1

The Final Hair

It’s much less obvious when the rest of the hair on your body starts falling out. 

It took me 3 weeks to notice.

I looked down at my legs one day, counted back to the day that I had dropped the boy off at the airport, and my heart sank.

But I was in denial.

‘Its not falling out, its just not growing’ I told myself ‘There’s still hair there, its just stunted but it will come back’.

Now you may be thinking to yourself ‘Why is she complaining about not having to shave her legs??  That sounds amazing!’

Not going to lie, it is rather convenient.  The problem is I knew what would come next...the rest of it.  And I mean everything.

I decided to bring a friend to my final dermatologist appointment and gave her strict instructions to not let the doctor leave the room until I had all my questions answered (even if it meant she had to stand in front of the door).  I just wanted some answers, and I wanted someone to tell me the truth.

We sat down in the office and in walked the resident.  After explaining my story to him, he went out to get the Attending (can I still call him the Attending if its in an office and not a hospital??).  He shook my hand and then made me sit in the dentist-esque chair.  And then....get this...he LOOKED at me.  Imagine that?!!!  He looked at my head, he looked at my face, he looked at my arms, he looked at my legs and then he sat down beside my friend.  And then we had a chat.  A real honest conversation about what was going on.  

‘Well its definitely alopecia.  We know that.  You seem like you’ve done your research.  I’ll try whatever treatment you would like to do but you know its not likely to work right?’

What?  No scalp biopsy?  No steroids?  No injections?  No products to sell?

But of course I knew none of it would work and it was honestly a huge relief to have someone of a credible background (aka not just my own research) finally tell me the same thing.

‘Again, if you want to try something, anything, you can come by my office anytime.  Just let me know if you change your mind.  And there are a few ongoing studies now that are showing some promising results so its not like people aren’t working on it.  I just don’t have much to offer at the moment.’

‘And the rest of my hair?’

‘It will likely fall out too’

He let me look over my list of questions and made sure I had nothing else to ask him before he left the room.

And then I cried.  Ugly cried in the parking lot of Tim Hortons for an hour.  Straight up.  All the while my friend tried desperately to make me feel better.  (Sorrrrrry MA ;) )

I knew the hair on my legs was already starting to fall out but about a week earlier I had taken a look at my eyebrows and noticed some thinning.  I had a bit of a panic attack/full on ‘why me’ session and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t true.  But after this appointment I knew that it was.  Even though I knew in my heart of hearts that it didn’t matter what I did, I have no control over my hair growth, it took me a full month before I started washing my face normally again and not being super careful around my eyebrows so as to not ‘disturb’ the hairs that were holding on.

I had told Paul after he shaved my head that I could live with being bald, but heaven help me if my eyebrows fell out.  Anything but the brows.

It may seem stupid but I’m very attached to my eyebrows.  I’ve always been quite proud of them.  I never really had to do anything to them, very minimal plucking, no shaping, they were just right.  And they framed my eyes well and they made me look like me.  When I realized that they were going to fall out too I straight out lost my mind.  I cried at the drop of a hat and didn’t want to leave the house.  It got so bad that the boy was considering flying for another visit.  I couldn’t handle it and I didn’t want it to be true.

I know it all sounds a bit dramatic but I dare you to try it.  Being bald is one thing.  Not having any eyebrows is one thing.  Not having any lashes, ok.  All three?  It’s shit.  Complete and utter shit.

My biggest fear was if I would be able to draw on my eyebrows and not make them look like a disaster.  I knew people already would be looking at me because I was bald and I’m quite comfortable knowing that people are likely talking about it.  But I really didn’t want them saying rude things about my feeble attempts at making myself look a bit more ‘normal’.

I don’t know, I’m having a hard time putting this into words.  Could be because this is where we finally get up to present day me and I’m still trying to figure out how I feel and where I’m at.  Maybe that’s why its taken me so long to write this post.  Because its finally wrapping up my journey thus far and I can start to write about current events, but I don’t know how to properly ‘wrap’ it up.  

Hmmmmmm

Well lets go with this:

-I am done with dermatologists and don’t really feel the need to ever see one again (unless its for a prescription for a wig to see if Blue Cross will cover something)

-I’ve gotten to be ok at drawing on my brows.  (I have 3 hairs left on my right brow and about 10 on my left brow).  Up close you can absolutely tell that they aren’t real but I feel like from farther away they seem to blend in to my face.

-That being said I HATE waking up without eyebrows so I am seriously looking at getting them tattooed (not the block tattoos, a newer technique called micro-blading that creates realistic looking hair strokes.)

-I’m unimpressed with my eyelashes at the moment.  Again, I knew it was coming.  I was prepared.  But in the last week or so they’ve decided to vacate the premises.  I told myself that losing my eyelashes wouldn’t be that big of a deal because I can glue on fake ones every day, but lets be real, that’s not happening.  I am hella lazy and do not have enough time to be worrying about fake eyelashes when I start work at 6:45.

-I’m comfortable with the unpredictable pattern of alopecia.  At one point a couple of months ago I had a ton of hair growing back and now its all fallen out again.  That is what alopecia does and why I say that hair growth means nothing to me for the rest of my life.  Even if I were to have all my hair grow back again, I’d be happy sure, but I would never attach myself to it like I had been before.  It takes waaaay longer for hair to grow back than it does to fall out.  And fall out it may and likely will.

-It is amazing to me how quickly you forget what it was like to have hair.  I don’t remember what its like to wash my hair or brush it.  I don’t remember what it feels like to have wet hair or have to dry and style it.  I don’t remember what it feels like to have my hair brush my shoulders or tie it up in a ponytail.  It’s kind of sad, but more just weird.

-I love the amount of support that everyone has given me and I am truly grateful for it.  It has made this process a hell of a lot easier.  However, please do not be offended if I don’t try your suggestions for how to make my hair grow back.  There is no magic pill, no shampoo and no special food that I can eat that will make my body decide to stop attacking itself.  If there were, there’s about 150 million other people that would know about it.  This is an internal and complicated problem.  

-I’m ok.  Really.  I HATE being bald.  Its not an easy thing.  It makes my life a bit easier when it comes to everyday maintenance but I don’t like it.  I don’t have to like it to be ok with it though.  And I am ok.

-I’m looking into making my own wigs (if I ever get some time off).  I took a wig maintenance class a couple weeks ago that I will write about, it was really good.  I’d like to maybe create my own line of cool, sort of funky wigs that could be an alternative for other people going through similar things (or just wanting a rad new look).

-I have other ideas too that I’m super stoked about so stay tuned :)

Next time I’ll talk about what the heck alopecia actually is since I haven’t really told you that much aside from the fact that its an auto-immune disease that makes your hair fall out.  I’ll talk a bit more too about treatment options and why I’ve decided to stay clear of them.  Other than that, the continuation of my blog will be that of my everyday life as an alopecian.  Stories, opinions and projects.  If you have any questions I haven’t answered yet or something you would like me to talk about please feel free to send me a message, I love feedback :)

Thanks for reading my sob stories friends.  Much love x

Sometimes my hair grows back...

And my boyfriend becomes my hairdresser

And then it falls out again...

At least my razors are being put to use

Bye bye brows :(

Dermatologists Are Dicks

l feel like I need to start this post with a disclaimer so here it is:

Number one, the following are my feelings about my situation and my feelings only.  If you are currently experiencing any form of acute hair loss you must absolutely go see your doctor.  It could be a symptom of a serious health issue.  They will most likely refer you to a dermatologist if they can not figure out an answer, because yes, dermatologists are the experts.

I have the utmost respect for physicians in general.  I feel very privileged to have had the opportunity to work with a number of incredibly talented, compassionate and intelligent physicians over the course of my career thus far.  I’ve watched them work tirelessly in the pursuit of finding the ‘answer’ and see a genuine concern for the patient’s well being.

I also know, that despite my medical knowledge and experience, I am not a doctor.  I will never claim to know more than a specialist on such issues.  I am however a fairly reasonable person who is able to keep medical issues in perspective.  Therefore, if you lie to my face and make me feel bad about my decisions regarding my COSMETIC loss, we are NOT going to be friends.

I did my research.  When something in your life changes so dramatically for no apparent reason its only natural to want to know why.  And when you have to wait months before you can get in to see a doctor, you’re going to want to try and find some answers a bit sooner.  

I read articles, wikipedia pages, pulled up medical journals and spent hours on message boards.  I combed through other people’s experiences and compared them to mine.  I knew it was alopecia, I just needed someone to confirm it.

Warning: Rage is coming.

My first stop was my follow up appointment with the initial dermatologist I had seen when I still had hair.  Remember the one who barely looked at me and then diagnosed me with Telogen Effluvium?  That one.

I walked in to his office bald.  No scarf or wig in sight.  Shortly after I sat down in the room the doctor walked in along with his nurse.  He took a quick look at my lab work, said everything looked normal, and then went to explain our next steps:

‘Ok, so now we have to do a scalp biopsy.’

‘Well, do we really have to do that?’ (Because despite the fact that I put needles in people’s arteries on a fairly regular basis, I myself am fairly needle-phobic).

‘Of course we have to do that.  How am I supposed to treat it if I don’t know what it is?’

After I continued to hesitate about the necessity of a biopsy, he laid this one on me:

‘I’m only trying to help you.  Let me help you.’

SCREW.

YOU.

He walked out of the room after telling me to ‘make another appointment when you change your mind’.

I burst into tears, full on ugly crying as the nurse handed me some Kleenex (thank God for nurses).  I felt embarrassed, overwhelmed and I was LIVID.

I’m not good in the moment but if I could go back these are the things I would have said:

1. You’re a dick

2. Friggin LOOK at me.  I walked in to your office bald, I’m not trying to hide it.  That means that no matter how important my hair is/was to me, I’m clearly coping to some extent.

3. You diagnosed me pretty easily last time without a biopsy.  Why do I need one now? (My mom pointed this one out to me).

 4. You’re a dick

 5. If I can figure out its alopecia by doing my own research, why can’t you?  I’m pretty sure you’ve been a dermatologist longer than I’ve been alive.  Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve seen this?  And since it’s not, why aren’t you being honest and straight forward with me?

6. I’m not dying.  Stop acting like I’m refusing life saving treatment.

7. Piss off

I walked out of his office with my mascara running down my face and an awfully snotty nose.  Needless to say, I won’t be going back.

My next appointment was with the dermatologist I initially had been referred to.  My hair had been trying really hard to grow back and I had some solid peach fuzz at the back of my head.  I was stoked.  Absolutely elated.  I was positive that this was a good sign and that my bout with hair loss would only be temporary.

Again, I walked in to this doctor’s office bald.  Absolutely no attempt to hide it.

The doctor came in to the room, quickly reviewed my chart, took a quick look at me and said

‘I’m sorry you’re going through this.  Alopecia is a hard thing to deal with.’

(Funny how he could diagnose me without a biopsy, isn’t it??)

Ok, I thought, this doctor could be good.  He seems sympathetic and honest.

Wrong.

The next thing he did was take a quick look at my head,

‘Hmmm, not much hair there’

Now, I’m not entirely mad at him for pointing this out, but that one, simple, off handed comment completely crushed me.  I had just begun to pull myself together again and I was feeling so much more confident now that I had peach fuzz on my head.  In an instant he completely destroyed that.  I was right back to square one.

He wanted me to do some blood work,

‘I’ve already had that done’

‘Well sometimes things change’

‘No, like 2 weeks ago.  I had all the blood work done 2 weeks ago.’

Now this is the part that really irritates me, and maybe I expect too much, but he then made no apparent attempt to locate said blood work.  Didn’t check his computer, didn’t say he would contact the lab to find out the results, nada.  If you think you need blood work but your patient has already had it done, wouldn’t you want to know the results?  If not, WHY are you ordering it?  And what if the other physician had missed something?  

So instead of looking up my blood work (which I know was normal, that’s not the point), he came up with this treatment plan:

1. A month long tapering dose of Prednisone (an oral steroid)

2. Rogaine (a topical hair growth medicine)

3. Repeat blood work

4. Latisse all over my head every night (I’m pretty sure Brooke Shields does the commercial for this one.  It’s a serum that you put on your lash line every night to make your eyelashes grow longer.)

5. Come back in a month and we will see where we are at

‘You will have to be patient but I am confident we can get your hair to grow back.’

You doctor, are a friggin liar.

I will explain in an upcoming post about treatment options for alopecia and why they are not for me, but this is what you need to know right now:  generally speaking, the more extensive your hair loss, the less likely it is to grow back.  Also, any treatment becomes less effective.  Call me crazy but I expect a dermatologist to tell me that.

Doctors, take note:  It does NO GOOD to try to give your patients hope if you’re not going to be realistic and honest about it.  It’s rude and it’s irresponsible.  (If I hear the term ‘short term intubation’ one more time..... ;) )

I walked out of that office with a $200 bottle of Latisse in my hand (because of course his office conveniently sold it and I wasn’t sure what else to do), feeling more confused than ever before.  Do I start the steroids?  Do I really need more lab work?  Is any of this really going to work?

(Side note: the Latisse that he wanted me to rub all over my head?  The one that I paid $200 for (and am still irritated about)?  The bottle was 5 ml.  FIVE mls.  FIVEEEEEEEE.  So that was supposed to last me what?  A week?  Also, for $200, the applicators are shit.)

About a month later I had my final dermatologist appointment.  Third time’s a charm.  I walked away from this appointment with tears as well.  Difference is, they weren’t angry tears or frustrated tears.  Just sad.

This dermatologist was honest with me.  He treated me with respect, compassion and understanding.  And even though these words broke my heart, they still meant the world to me,

‘You’re going to lose all of your hair’

Braving the Bald

Being bald sucks....sometimes.  But then sometimes so does having hair.

Walking around bald is scary....the first time. But then you realize the general public is actually more concerned with themselves than with you. 

Realizing you are likely to be bald for the rest of your life hurts...for the first while. But then you remember that your hair isn't the reason that people love you.

Walking into a dermatologists office bald is ...intimidating, infuriating and heartbreaking 2 out of 3 times. Why? Because dermatologists suuuuuuuuuuuuuuck 2 out of 3 times.

But more on that next week. 

After the boy shaved my head we decided to go see a movie and chill out for a bit. Despite the immediate relief I felt by not having any hair anymore, I was still hesitant and quite frankly terrified to walk out of my house with nothing on my head. So on went the scarf and off to the movie we went. 

My head was feeling pretty hot and a bit itchy after the big shave so as soon as we got into the dark and sparsely populated movie theatre I decided to remove my scarf so that my head could cool off. Not long after the movie started my pea size bladder gave me the signal. As I went to put my scarf back on my head, the boy snatched it out of my hand and with a little smirk said 'go on then'. 

I'm sure if I protested a little more the boy would have given me the scarf back but I really had to pee. Time was of the essence. And you know what? It wasn't so bad. Now this might have something to do with the fact that I only ran into a single person during my mad dash, but the world didn't end.  Actually, she barely even looked at me. 

I still wasn't ready to do this 'bald' thing totally so over the next couple of days I decided to try out the wigs. First there was a dinner out with my parents the night before the boy left.

Platinum blonde.

There were some looks, I'm not going to lie. Mostly from a family that was sat about two tables down from us. The father and son were facing me and the mother and daughter kept turning around to look. I was half tempted to march on over to their table, whip off my wig and say 'Is this better??!'  But I didn't because a) it doesn't matter that much and b) my steak showed up. 

The next day I had to take the boy to the airport. 

Purple bob. 

Maybe it was just the fact that m eyes were slightly watery the whole time but nobody made any sort of fuss over it. Sure people glanced as anyone would do if you saw someone with hair that wasn't a normal colour, but they certainly didn't stare. 

Third day bald. Third wig to try out. 

Blonde bob. 

This was my first day back to work after 3 weeks off. I had gotten Paul to take some pictures of me in my wigs and posted a collage of them on Facebook the day before so that people wouldn't be quite as surprised when they saw me for the first time. I was still really nervous to see everyone though.  It's one thing to walk around in wigs knowing that you'll probably never see anyone again, completely different story when it's people you see every day. I was secretly miserable inside but sooner or later it had to happen so I put on the wig and headed off to work. 

For those of you who don't know me, I work as a Respiratory Therapist at a large trauma hospital in my city. That night I was scheduled to work on the wards which for the first time I was actually relieved to find out. It meant that I wasn't forced to hang out in one particular area with a set group of people but rather I could wander around and be by myself if I felt like I needed to. 

The first part of the night went pretty well. Again, a few looks but nothing crazy. When my coworkers came down to the department for dinner break, my photos became the topic of conversation. My wig was getting pretty hot and a little bit itchy so I offered to take it off and show everyone my bald head. 

I stayed like that for a while letting my head cool off when all of a sudden there was an overhead page....

'CODE BLUE UNIT 43

CODE BLUE UNIT 43

CODE BLUE UNIT 43'

*not the actual unit :)

(For all my non medical followers a code blue is what is paged overhead when someone's heart stops or there is some other type of medical emergency. Respiratory Therapists always respond to these calls). 

There was no time to put my wig back on and do a proper job of it so I said 'screw it' and ran to the code. 

Just like in the movie theatre, no one cared. 

In fact, they LOVED it. 

What I kind of failed to realize when I posted my wig montage on Facebook is that I hadn't really explained what had happened. One day I had all my hair and the next time I showed up I was bald. So when I stopped in the Intensive Care Unit later that night to grab some equipment, everyone who had responded to the code kept stopping me to comment about my new look. 

'Oh my God, I LOVE it'

'That looks so cool!'

'You're head looks so perfect!'

Shortly followed by

'So what charity did you shave it for?'

'I thought that picture of you was photo shopped'

'Are you ok?'

Oh right...about that.... :)

(For the record if you were one of the people who felt bad about asking me why I shave my head, please DON'T. This kind of thing doesn't exactly happen every day). 

Next week: Why Dermatologists Are Dicks

The Head Shave

Let me just start by saying that I never would have voluntarily shaved my head.

I used to hear stories about people shaving their heads for various reasons and think-that's crazy, I could never, would never, do that.

I had short hair for a large part of my childhood.  One time in grade 6 my mom 'accidentally' gave me a pixie cut.  When the woman at the flu clinic complimented my mom on her 3 boys instead of her 2 boys and 1 darling daughter, I finally was allowed to get my ears pierced....so that was nice.

From that point on the goal was to grow my hair long. As long as it could grow. At one point I got annoyed with my growing, always frizzy hair and decided it would be a good idea to chop it all off.  I went into the salon with hair past my shoulders and came out with it just below my ears.  When I went to wash my hair the next day I cried because there was nothing there. I felt like a boy. 'Never again' I told myself. I'm growing it long. 

Grow it long. 

Grow it long. 

Grow it long. 

After our meeting with the dermatologist, my boyfriend (aka Paul, aka the boy, aka Hilly) and I made a quick pit stop at the hair salon. Now that a doctor had formally told me he thought it was something other than alopecia I had renewed hope. I thought that if I trimmed some length off of my hair it somehow would make less of it fall out. Less length to pull on, less wear and tear...or something like that. 

We walked into the the salon which seemed pretty busy at the time. I asked if there might be an appointment available at some point that day but unfortunately they were all booked up. 

'What is it you're looking for?' the hairstylist asked

At which point I removed my scarf and explained my situation. 

'Can you wait 10 minutes?'

Now this is something that I think is important for everyone to remember: People are generally good. There's some crappy people around for sure but for the most part, people are good. 

The woman who was in the seat at the time I walked in offered her spot to me saying that she could wait. Nobody gawked or stared, the hair dresser was incredibly professional and I got to feel a bit like my normal self. 

After my hair cut was finished I pulled out my wallet to pay but my money was not accepted. 

'You don't owe me anything' he said 'It was my pleasure. I'm glad I could help.'

Why?  Because people are good. 

The next day we left on our road trip to Seattle and Vancouver to visit some friends. Under the cover of a hat it looked like I had just gotten a haircut but upon removal of my new security blanket my friends were (understandably) shocked. Shocked but incredibly supportive and loving which is exactly what I needed. 

A week later we were back home. A week of wearing hats and scarves in the hot summer sun. A week of being increasingly upset every time I looked in the mirror. A week of watching even more of my hair fall out. 

Finally, I'd had enough. 

I had talked about shaving my head about a week and a half into my hair loss misadventures. Losing your hair is one thing but having to watch it fall out bit by bit, day by day is like a never ending horror movie. As much as I wanted to stop watching it fall out, I hesitated because I whole heartedly thought it would stop. I never in a MILLION years thought that I would end up bald, so I held off. Why shave all my hair if I wasn't going to lose it all anyway?

I was also scared. I didn't know if I was going to be able to handle being a bald woman, I didn't know how my head was going to look and I didn't know how people were going to react. And, more importantly, I was absolutely terrified that this would be the last time that I would ever see hair on my head. My own hair anyway. 

So I held on to it, a little longer than I should have (not that there's a reason I should not have or an appropriate time frame for making these kinds of decisions) until with a lot of love and support from the boy, I took the plunge. I was so sick of letting my hair run/ruin my life. So sick of vacuuming up hair everyday, cleaning out clumps of hair out of my brush, looking like friggin Gollum from Lord of the Rings and freaking out every time I got in the shower thinking my dried hair balls were spiders. 

I was still terrified at the thought of being bald and still a bit traumatized from my first wig shopping experience so I was left in a bit of a pickle. How the hell was I going to do this?? That's when Paul made a suggestion....if you're going to wear a wig, why don't you make it LOOK like a wig??

Yes. This could work. Not only would I be taking control of the situation by shaving my head, I was going to wear a WIG. No awkward questions because it would be obvious. No worries about showing my bald head because I would have a WIG. And if people want to look, LET THEM LOOK! Because I am a bad ass mofo and you know nothing about my story. (Besides, I always wanted pink hair). 

Wig shopping the second time around was a much different experience. I was in a different head space and it felt good. I was a woman on a mission and I was ready to get 'er done. Paul and I spent the full day shopping for wigs, going from store to store until I was finally satisfied. At the end of the day I went home with... A blonde bob (that still looked like a wig but was looked just real enough in case I wimped out when the time came), a PLATINUM blonde bob for my Marilyn Monroe days, and my personal favourite... The purple bob (because they didn't have pink). 

{Also, quick side note: mad love to the boy who equates shopping with 'a fate worse than death'. He didn't complain once as I dragged him all over the city. You=the best xx}

When we got home it was head shave time. As much as I was ready for it to happen I was still nervous so I made the boy use a longer blade to start. As I put the towel over my shoulders and felt the first wave of hair fall off my head, I felt....

Relieved. 

So unbelievably relieved. 

I didn't even cry. I thought for sure I was going to lose it and have some sort of Britney-esque style melt down, but...it didn't happen. I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, there was nothing left to worry about because there was nothing there anymore. 

After deciding that using the blade on the clippers was really a waste of time, I let the the boy take it off and trim my remaining hairs as short as they would go. When he was all done I turned around and looked at him with my newly bald head. 

'Well, what do you think?' I asked

'I think it suits you'

Next week: 'You shaved your head! That's so cool!' 

                   'Well actually....'

#alopecia #alopeciaawareness #autoimmune #thebaldmovement #baldisbeautiful #bebrave