bullitnut
4 awesome repairs with SMG
Here we have a story i recently read featuring a young women who discovered she had hair loss....it's not an educational post as such but it does show some of the emotions everyone goes through after discovering hair loss....esecially the constantly checking in the mirror. This story probably won't help anyone but it will show that sufferers are not alone. I do wish however that when these articles are printed in the media that they would show information of support groups or online forums that could potentially help individuals deal with such problems.
Settling into the hairdresser s chair, I allowed myself a sigh of relaxation as I melted into the hands of the stylist.
It was October 2011 and I was having my expensive blonde highlights topped up for a reunion party with a group of much-loved friends I d lived with when I first came to London in 1996. Not having seen them for years, I wanted to look my best.
A futile hunt for a new dress saw me dusting down an old favourite a navy-satin slip in the knowledge that at least my freshly blonde hair would be swept into a chic updo. I knew I could no longer pass for 23, but I hoped not to look all of my 38.
And so, a double espresso at my right hand, I happily turned my full attention to the glossy magazine in my lap. Until the stylist leant over my left shoulder, with her comb pointing to the top of my head near the crown: excuse me she whispered. Do you know you have a bit of a bald patch?
I looked up, initially irritated to be interrupted. But then, through the mirror, my gaze fell upon a 2 ½in (5cm) circle of pink I d never noticed before. There was, unquestionably, a bald patch in the middle of my scalp. I stared at the spot, unable to say anything. Then the tears descended.
Stylists and curious customers crowded around. Is it skin cancer? asked one, helpfully.
For the next two hours, I sat there red-eyed, trying desperately not to cause a scene, while they finished the highlights.
When I got home, my husband , was waiting at the door: How can a hair cut take six hours, he asked, irritably. Silently I pulled back my hair to reveal the bald patch.
That looks dreadful, he said, horrified. Not a man to mince his words, I knew it must be really bad, and burst into tears once again. My three children, crowded around, curious to see what had caused Mum to cry. They were too little to understand, but they parodied their father s horror, gasping to one another, which only made me feel worse.
I felt wretched as I got ready for the party that, only hours earlier, I d so looked forward to. Now I was dreading the very thought of being in a room with anyone but my husband and children.
It s hard to describe why losing a small patch of hair was so devastating. After all, despite what that ignorant customer might have thought, it wasn t cancer. It wasn t life threatening.
But you have no idea just how much you value your hair until it falls out. I ve always been proud of my looks and tried so hard, despite three children, a full-time job and encroaching middle age, to look my best.
My hair, if not my crowning glory, is jolly nice on a good day. Long and blonde (with some help) I devote a vast amount of time to cut, colour and products. A bad hair day can ruin my mood and even a special occasion. This was, by far, the worst of all. Suddenly, I felt old, unattractive and deeply unsexy.
Upstairs, as I slipped on my dress, pinned back my hair and slathered on some red lipstick, a smile eluded me. At the party, I could only manage one glass of champagne before I had to slip away.
In the taxi on the way home I watched the bright lights of London blurring as my eyes filled with tears. I spent the whole weekend obsessing about that small bald patch checking it over and over in the mirror and worrying that it was getting bigger.
On Monday, I went to my GP. It s probably alopecia areata, he said, oblivious to my distress.
(The areata type of alopecia simply means it comes out in patches rather than all over. )
He prescribed a topical steroid, to be applied to the area every day for a few weeks, which might or might not encourage the hair to grow back.
After that, every morning I would angrily inspect the hairs that had fallen out on the pillow, then despair at the amount that came away as I shampooed my hair in the shower.
Then there were the tricks I learned: I d sit with one hand over the side of my head, covering it up, and wear wide hairbands, hair clips and hats. Windy weather was a nightmare. Nobody said anything but I lived in fear of someone pointing and laughing.I started to avoid going anywhere with crowds of people, especially any loud-mouthed teenagers who might snigger. I did all my shopping online.
I told every single person I knew. I was like the Ancient Mariner of the bald patch world, talking (and crying) about it constantly. Woe betide any school mother who bumped into me on the street and asked how I was. It was a coping mechanism I found it cathartic to worry out loud, and to my friends eternal credit, they were kind, patient and sympathetic.
Another comfort was talking to others who had had it. Everyone knows somebody who lost their hair. The sister of an old school friend was especially helpful she had had it a few years previously and recovered completely. It gave me hope that I might spontaneously recover.
Hair is so psychologically rooted in sexual function, showing that you are youthful, virile and fertile, says a prominent consultant trichologist. Losing it takes away your sense of youth.
People often associate beauty with luxurious hair, agrees the charity Alopecia UK. Yet there are many negative associations with baldness ageing, illness, or something scary.
Alopecia areata is something that one in 500 women may be affected by during their life, although eight million women in the UK suffer hair loss of one kind or another and there s no guaranteed cure.
It ranges in severity from a single patch, which will recover in a matter of months, to total and irreversible hair loss. For those with alopecia areata like me, four out of five will have just one bald patch, but one in ten lose more than 40 per cent of their hair.
There s no definite cause, although it can be brought on by stressful events: bereavement, moving house and childbirth are particular triggers (strangely, removing the cause of stress doesn t necessarily mean the hair will grow back).
But it was nearly three years since I d had my last child and, while we were thinking about moving home, that didn t seem a strong enough reason for it to start.
I ate healthily, exercised regularly and looked after myself.
However, three months previously I d had a health scare, which I believe might have been the trigger.
There are also genetic links. I have a family history of auto-immune conditions not alopecia areata but a couple of relatives have had thyroid problems.
Meanwhile, the hair loss accelerated. Just after Christmas a couple of months after the party the bald patch was twice its original size, now about 3 ¼in (10cm) across, with more coming out every day.
It was then I sought out specialist London-based consultant dermatologist . He recommended a six-week course of oral steroids and suggested that I apply Minoxidil, sold as the hair-loss product Regaine.
I had no reservations about taking the drugs, rather I was delirious with relief that there might be a solution.
On New Year s Eve, 2011, I took my first steroid and celebrated by going to a fancy dress party so I could wear a headscarf without feeling ridiculous.
One virtually sleepless week later (courtesy of the side-effects of the new drug), my hair was still shedding and I d put on 5lb.
Weight gain can be the most pronounced side effect of steroids they can depress your metabolism and increase water retention.
I also suffered horrendous mood swings, furious one minute and tearful the next. I felt like a terrible wife, a grumpy mother and horribly ugly to boot.
Just a few thin strands now covered the patch. I touched my head incessantly, trying to work out if more hair was falling out.
Then one day around the end of February, as I performed my daily bald-patch check, I put my hand to my head and felt a slight bristly sensation. You couldn t see anything, but it was like running my fingers over Velcro.
My hair was coming back! I ran to my long-suffering husband to insist he felt the area, too.
I almost danced with joy. I started to look forward to waking up in the morning so I could inspect the fresh growth in the mirror with the same rigour I had previously reserved for hunting down evidence of hair loss. Day after day I felt it improve.
When I had my next appointment in London, I was jubilant and grateful. He agreed that things appeared to be looking up.
I continued to apply the minoxidil and the topical steroid until I had a whole centimetre of new hair.
It grew back dark and curly, compared to my usually straight hair, but after just over a year it was almost the same length as the rest.
I didn t let a hairdresser touch it for a year I was too worried about it falling out again though there is absolutely no link to any hair product or dye. It took me six months to lose the weight.
Looking back, I can t believe how badly that small patch affected me and my confidence. In the same situation again, I would like to think I d cope with it better, that I wouldn t take the steroids and perhaps turn to meditation, healthy eating and yoga to help de-stress.
And I may well have to cope with it again. Although there are no definitive figures, alopecia often returns and you never know when that might be.
Two years on, I still go to the mirror every morning just to check all strands are present and correct.
However, I also know now that the truly frightening part was not the hair loss. It was the uncertainty and I hope that if it happens again, I ll be ready to handle it.
Settling into the hairdresser s chair, I allowed myself a sigh of relaxation as I melted into the hands of the stylist.
It was October 2011 and I was having my expensive blonde highlights topped up for a reunion party with a group of much-loved friends I d lived with when I first came to London in 1996. Not having seen them for years, I wanted to look my best.
A futile hunt for a new dress saw me dusting down an old favourite a navy-satin slip in the knowledge that at least my freshly blonde hair would be swept into a chic updo. I knew I could no longer pass for 23, but I hoped not to look all of my 38.
And so, a double espresso at my right hand, I happily turned my full attention to the glossy magazine in my lap. Until the stylist leant over my left shoulder, with her comb pointing to the top of my head near the crown: excuse me she whispered. Do you know you have a bit of a bald patch?
I looked up, initially irritated to be interrupted. But then, through the mirror, my gaze fell upon a 2 ½in (5cm) circle of pink I d never noticed before. There was, unquestionably, a bald patch in the middle of my scalp. I stared at the spot, unable to say anything. Then the tears descended.
Stylists and curious customers crowded around. Is it skin cancer? asked one, helpfully.
For the next two hours, I sat there red-eyed, trying desperately not to cause a scene, while they finished the highlights.
When I got home, my husband , was waiting at the door: How can a hair cut take six hours, he asked, irritably. Silently I pulled back my hair to reveal the bald patch.
That looks dreadful, he said, horrified. Not a man to mince his words, I knew it must be really bad, and burst into tears once again. My three children, crowded around, curious to see what had caused Mum to cry. They were too little to understand, but they parodied their father s horror, gasping to one another, which only made me feel worse.
I felt wretched as I got ready for the party that, only hours earlier, I d so looked forward to. Now I was dreading the very thought of being in a room with anyone but my husband and children.
It s hard to describe why losing a small patch of hair was so devastating. After all, despite what that ignorant customer might have thought, it wasn t cancer. It wasn t life threatening.
But you have no idea just how much you value your hair until it falls out. I ve always been proud of my looks and tried so hard, despite three children, a full-time job and encroaching middle age, to look my best.
My hair, if not my crowning glory, is jolly nice on a good day. Long and blonde (with some help) I devote a vast amount of time to cut, colour and products. A bad hair day can ruin my mood and even a special occasion. This was, by far, the worst of all. Suddenly, I felt old, unattractive and deeply unsexy.
Upstairs, as I slipped on my dress, pinned back my hair and slathered on some red lipstick, a smile eluded me. At the party, I could only manage one glass of champagne before I had to slip away.
In the taxi on the way home I watched the bright lights of London blurring as my eyes filled with tears. I spent the whole weekend obsessing about that small bald patch checking it over and over in the mirror and worrying that it was getting bigger.
On Monday, I went to my GP. It s probably alopecia areata, he said, oblivious to my distress.
(The areata type of alopecia simply means it comes out in patches rather than all over. )
He prescribed a topical steroid, to be applied to the area every day for a few weeks, which might or might not encourage the hair to grow back.
After that, every morning I would angrily inspect the hairs that had fallen out on the pillow, then despair at the amount that came away as I shampooed my hair in the shower.
Then there were the tricks I learned: I d sit with one hand over the side of my head, covering it up, and wear wide hairbands, hair clips and hats. Windy weather was a nightmare. Nobody said anything but I lived in fear of someone pointing and laughing.I started to avoid going anywhere with crowds of people, especially any loud-mouthed teenagers who might snigger. I did all my shopping online.
I told every single person I knew. I was like the Ancient Mariner of the bald patch world, talking (and crying) about it constantly. Woe betide any school mother who bumped into me on the street and asked how I was. It was a coping mechanism I found it cathartic to worry out loud, and to my friends eternal credit, they were kind, patient and sympathetic.
Another comfort was talking to others who had had it. Everyone knows somebody who lost their hair. The sister of an old school friend was especially helpful she had had it a few years previously and recovered completely. It gave me hope that I might spontaneously recover.
Hair is so psychologically rooted in sexual function, showing that you are youthful, virile and fertile, says a prominent consultant trichologist. Losing it takes away your sense of youth.
People often associate beauty with luxurious hair, agrees the charity Alopecia UK. Yet there are many negative associations with baldness ageing, illness, or something scary.
Alopecia areata is something that one in 500 women may be affected by during their life, although eight million women in the UK suffer hair loss of one kind or another and there s no guaranteed cure.
It ranges in severity from a single patch, which will recover in a matter of months, to total and irreversible hair loss. For those with alopecia areata like me, four out of five will have just one bald patch, but one in ten lose more than 40 per cent of their hair.
There s no definite cause, although it can be brought on by stressful events: bereavement, moving house and childbirth are particular triggers (strangely, removing the cause of stress doesn t necessarily mean the hair will grow back).
But it was nearly three years since I d had my last child and, while we were thinking about moving home, that didn t seem a strong enough reason for it to start.
I ate healthily, exercised regularly and looked after myself.
However, three months previously I d had a health scare, which I believe might have been the trigger.
There are also genetic links. I have a family history of auto-immune conditions not alopecia areata but a couple of relatives have had thyroid problems.
Meanwhile, the hair loss accelerated. Just after Christmas a couple of months after the party the bald patch was twice its original size, now about 3 ¼in (10cm) across, with more coming out every day.
It was then I sought out specialist London-based consultant dermatologist . He recommended a six-week course of oral steroids and suggested that I apply Minoxidil, sold as the hair-loss product Regaine.
I had no reservations about taking the drugs, rather I was delirious with relief that there might be a solution.
On New Year s Eve, 2011, I took my first steroid and celebrated by going to a fancy dress party so I could wear a headscarf without feeling ridiculous.
One virtually sleepless week later (courtesy of the side-effects of the new drug), my hair was still shedding and I d put on 5lb.
Weight gain can be the most pronounced side effect of steroids they can depress your metabolism and increase water retention.
I also suffered horrendous mood swings, furious one minute and tearful the next. I felt like a terrible wife, a grumpy mother and horribly ugly to boot.
Just a few thin strands now covered the patch. I touched my head incessantly, trying to work out if more hair was falling out.
Then one day around the end of February, as I performed my daily bald-patch check, I put my hand to my head and felt a slight bristly sensation. You couldn t see anything, but it was like running my fingers over Velcro.
My hair was coming back! I ran to my long-suffering husband to insist he felt the area, too.
I almost danced with joy. I started to look forward to waking up in the morning so I could inspect the fresh growth in the mirror with the same rigour I had previously reserved for hunting down evidence of hair loss. Day after day I felt it improve.
When I had my next appointment in London, I was jubilant and grateful. He agreed that things appeared to be looking up.
I continued to apply the minoxidil and the topical steroid until I had a whole centimetre of new hair.
It grew back dark and curly, compared to my usually straight hair, but after just over a year it was almost the same length as the rest.
I didn t let a hairdresser touch it for a year I was too worried about it falling out again though there is absolutely no link to any hair product or dye. It took me six months to lose the weight.
Looking back, I can t believe how badly that small patch affected me and my confidence. In the same situation again, I would like to think I d cope with it better, that I wouldn t take the steroids and perhaps turn to meditation, healthy eating and yoga to help de-stress.
And I may well have to cope with it again. Although there are no definitive figures, alopecia often returns and you never know when that might be.
Two years on, I still go to the mirror every morning just to check all strands are present and correct.
However, I also know now that the truly frightening part was not the hair loss. It was the uncertainty and I hope that if it happens again, I ll be ready to handle it.
