Dropping the facade…

My hair is falling out.

And not at the normal, regenerative pace.

In October of 2022, I had emergency surgery.  One day I was fine and the next day I was not.  In fact, I remember clearly that night in the ER, the surgeon telling my husband and I that I may not survive the surgery.  The next three weeks were a blur.  After surgery, I was kept for recovery and rehabilitation for nearly three weeks.  I had a 15-inch incision, which require a wound vac (if you’ve never heard of a wound vac- I hadn’t- they are no fun!).  But through all of this, I maintained my sense of optimism.  I told myself that I was strong and that I could get through anything! 

Two weeks ago in the shower, now mostly healed, my hair began to come out in clumps.  I felt panicked inside.  I was shaking.  There were lots of tears.  I called my husband, and he held me for a long time.  I’ve learned that this condition is called telogen effluvium and it is the result of being under general anesthesia.  Long-term antibiotics don’t help either. 

I have a lot to be grateful for in this life.  But there is a big part of me that feels like this is not fair!  Not my hair!  For me, so much of how I perceive my own attractiveness is tied up in my beautiful, thick, long dark hair.  My hair is part of my femininity.  My hair is part of my identity as a person.

I am in week #3 of losing my hair.  I have a small bald spot on the back of my head which isn’t too noticeable yet.  I’d guess that about a third of my hair has fallen out.  Every time I run my fingers through my hair, more comes out.  My hair is everywhere but on my head.

I am feeling sorry for myself.  I know that others have it worse and that I should be grateful that there is a darn good chance that my hair will eventually (over the next few years) restore itself…but for now, I am going to mourn my hair a bit.  Life has been hard lately, and this feels like the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

Thank you for not judging my pity party too harshly.  I’ll try not to let myself stay stuck here long, but sometimes, you’ve gotta just let yourself feel.  Goodbye, my beautiful hair.     

If you are needing a musical pick me up, like I was, here is a little ditty from the 80’s to make you smile.

The sun WILL come out tomorrow!

Finding my sparkle,

Grace