March 20:
Guy cutting my hair frowns and looks perplexed, looking at the back of
my head. I think it is because of my
poor home dye job and I grin stupidly, and think—maybe next time I should have
it done at a salon.
April 5:
I notice it the first time: a bald patch at the crown of my head on the
right, an inch and a half or two inches in diameter. Horrors! I mention it to T, who says he first noticed
it a month ago. I am touched that he spared me a month of knowing. And mindful that he no doubt dreaded
experiencing my reaction to the news…
I decide that since I'm going bald I might as well go gray at the same time. The terrible chemicals can only exacerbate the problem. Most of my good friends, especially those in the States, don't color. I've felt before that it would make me invisible, that strangers treat gray hairs with less interest. Now I am ready.
Mid-May: Conscious realization of the now-familiar
gesture of brushing a stray hair from my arm; pleasant surprise when tickle on
the arm is a dangling thread rather than a hair.
The trials of trying to get it up from the
floor! Sweeping, Swiftering, mopping—pesky truants still there, picking them up
with difficulty off the tile floor by hand. Plucking them from the broom. Knowing the broom, swifter, mop will be full of them
End of May. I really can’t go out in public
now without a barrette effecting a comb-over. Size of hairless patch is about
3” diameter.
Ah, vanity.
Ah, vanity.
Folding laundry, Tom’s socks have a couple
of my hairs stuck to them, having made it through the wash and lighted there.
June 2. Catching a falling hair, knowing
well how bothersome it can be to try and flick it into the trash or other
receptacle, sometimes giving into temptation to fling it off the balcony.
June 4.
I attend a presentation on medical Qi Gong and am very impressed. The
treatment has shown much success with autoimmune conditions. I’m in! The Qi
Gong master is in town for the opening of a Qi Gong clinic, and will see 20
patients the next day. I sign up.
June 5. First Qi Gong treatment. I abandon
my barrette for the visit to Lam Wah Ee Hospital’s Chinese Medicine Center. I sit
for the treatment, and close my eyes.
The healer moves energy around me, touching the base of my spine
briefly. I start to cry. Well, I am a
cry-er. It is emotion from the energy
flow: the beauty and power of it, gratitude for his care, a jumble of other
feelings that have been bottled up, releasing.
It lasts only 5 minutes or so but is powerful. After, I feel both
relaxed and energized, and think I am sitting straighter, taller. He recommends weekly treatments. I won’t be
able to go back for two weeks because I will be busy with visitors, but I
definitely want to continue.
June 6. I must be getting used to it, or
maybe it’s the Qi Gong. I meet some new people and very early in the
conversation bring up my decision to go gray AND my hair loss (Hi I’m Kristine
and I have Alopecia). Well, it was a white-haired woman who shared her skin
cancer details with me almost at once…
mid-June. Second Qi Gong session. Same luscious feeling of energizing relaxation. I want to go back next week but they are full. Next opportunity: late July.
I learn that the insurance company will not cover my return trip to the dermatologist in a few weeks. it is considered a cosmetic issue.
The offending area about 4" diameter now.
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