Hair Loss? What’s This Sudden Loss All About?

Are you worried about sudden hair loss? This post might help you decided if you should inquire further in to the reasons for loss, and what you should do about it.

This post will focus on the importance of seeking early diagnosis and treatment for hair loss.

A summary of the beginnings of my hair loss journey:

In the late spring of 2010, after the sudden and unexpected death of my daughter, I began to notice extensive hair loss.  At first, I was not concerned. I’d noticed a bald place developing at top backside of my head several years earlier, and while I did not like the optics, I chalked it up to thinning hair due to aging. My mother had thinning hair as she aged, so I assumed I would too. I took vitamins and tried styling options, but mostly I ignored it until I noticed an acceleration of loss of hair when I washed my hair. I also remember that after my daughter’s death my clothing was covered with silver white strands of hair. I particularly remember my signature black hoodie, the one I wore all the time, covered with so much hair that my neighbor, and kind and caring woman, would actually begin picking the hair off my hoodie as she lovingly asked how I was doing. She commented on my hair loss, wondered if I had checked it out with a doctor as she consoled me over my recent loss. She also alerted me about getting some answers for the hair loss. She had gorgeous thick silver hair, striking in its style and color, and she too had known great loss and stress, so I valued her advice even as I dismissed my own hair loss by saying, “Yes, the tinsel is falling off the old tree.”

I had more going on in my life at that time to worrying about my hair, so it didn’t make an appointment with a dermatologist right away. In fact, I didn’t even know who I should consult for hair loss. At the time of this acceleration of hair loss, I was deeply grieving, in shock over my daughter’s death, and I also began to have arrhythmia symptoms in my heart, and worsening GI symptoms. I was seeing a mental health therapist too, so the prospects of seeing one more doctor did not appeal to me.

When I did consult doctors regarding the hair loss, I was told the loss was from stress. “Your hair will come back. Don’t worry,” I was told. Yes, stress was certainly involved in my hair loss, but it was not the total reason for it.

In a nut shell, after the initial dismissive answers for why I was losing my hair and experiencing other worrisome scalp symptoms, I went on to consult a number of uninformed and dismissive doctors, including dermatologists over the next three years between 2010 and 2013. In that timeframe, the continued hair loss, and scalp redness, itching, flaking, and pain I was experiencing could no longer be ignored by me.  None of these medical professionals took me too seriously and continued to say my hair loss was stress related.  Even as I lost my eyebrows, suddenly and completely, my primary care doctor seemed dismissive and asked if I had been plucking them.  (Yes, she did!  That is exactly what she asked.)

Finally in 2012 I spoke to my my endocrinologist about my hair loss as I was seeing her for a regularly scheduled appointment for treatment of Hashimoto’s thyroiditis and pre-diabetes. She clearly stated she did not believe thyroid condition, age, nor genetics were the primary reason for my hair loss and advised me to get a biopsy of my scalp.  It took me more time than it should have to act on her advice,  but finally sometime in 2013, I saw a new to me dermatologist and requested a biopsy. Please note that I requested a biopsy. I was prepared to demand one if I had to do so. I was not accepting anymore dismissive answers. My endocrinologist had stressed that I must get to the bottom of my problem by having a biopsy.

I didn’t know it then, but with a diagnosis of my condition, I was about to experience a completely new learning curve regarding treatment for the condition.

The results of the biopsy came back with a clear diagnosis of lichen planopilaris/frontal fibrosing alopecia or LPP/FFA).  I had never heard of such a thing.  He showed me photo of what to expect as my condition progressed and said there was nothing at all that I could do about it.  Almost as an afterthought, he said there were some treatments, but they were not proven effective and caused side effects I did not want.  I asked what the treatments were, and he said plaquenil was sometimes prescribed, and clobetasol was a topical treatment sometimes used to quiet symptoms.  I told him I had used Protopic or tacrolimus, a topical medication that had been prescribed by a doctor I’d seen earlier about very sore and inflamed follicles. This new doctor said I could continue to use tacrolimus on occasion for symptoms and he added clobetasol solution to my treatment plan, but did not include any solid instructions on how to use it. Basically, he said, “You can try this too, but nothing will stop the loss.” He did not want to prescribe plaquenil because of the side effects. 

Post-diagnosis, I promptly went into denial believing I would never lose all that hair like the ladies I saw in his exhibits, and I guess I trusted him enough to go with what he said and looked no further into the diagnosis because frankly, I had other issues that seemed more looming than my hair. I remained firmly planted in the land of denial even as my hair fell out all the more. 

When I think back on that time, I was dealing with so much loss that my sadness, while at time overwhelming me, hair loss was not the only loss I was dealing with. As the hair fell out my very identity was being altered. I no longer recognized myself in the mirror as my hairline marched ever upward and backwards. My eyebrows were totally gone, and I felt that my face disappeared with them.

My hair was more than noticeably thin, it was patchy. I could no longer hide my loss. I also had such redness along my scalp, and such flaking, that I was embarrassed over my appearance. I remember feeling helpless.  Helplessness gave way to hopelessness, and as the hair fell, so did my mood.  I became withdrawn, afraid, anxious, and socially isolated.  

Finally, I stepped out of my isolation and wrote of my hair loss on my blog, a place I previously mostly wrote about family and grief.  At the same time, I also connected with an alopecia site on the internet and began to learn a bit about my specific type of alopecia.  I still could not find a doctor who knew how to treat FFA. 

By writing on my blog, I connected with others who read my posts or sent them to friends. From there, I learned there was a support network for my condition: Cicatricial Alopecia Research Foundation (CARF). I contacted the foundation, signed up for their newsletter, and attended the conference they held in New Orleans in 2016.  That is when I finally really learned about scarring alopecia from the experts.  This was nearly three years after my original diagnosis, and ten years after I first began to show symptoms for which I had actually consulted a dermatologist. (My initial consultation for scalp problems was not because of hair loss, but was for an inflamed hair follicle which clearly showed folliculitis, but again, the doctor was dismissive as he also stated he had no idea what was happening on my scalp.)

Remember that doctor who diagnosed my condition? He saw me again six years later. In that time, he had learned nothing more about my condition, but I had.

Let me tell you about a doctor’s visit I had last week.  I was consulting with a kind and knowledgeable physician assistant about the migraines and dizzy spells that have plagued me for months.  I told him about my hair loss and how I was also experiencing scalp pain after years of not feeling such pain. 

In the conversation, I mentioned the dermatologist who had diagnosed me because I thought he was associated with the practice I have used for the last four or five years. I told him how Dr. So and So had said there was no treatment for my condition. I went on to tell him that I had seen this same doctor years later when I had been sent to him again because he had joined my primary caregiver’s medical practice.  At the 2019 encounter with that original diagnosising dermatologist, I was experiencing a sudden and unexplained flare on my scalp that presented as inflamed and painful pustules in three different locations throughout my head.

I told the PA how in that appointment, I confronted the dermatologist by asking him to observe how I had lost all of my frontal hair because I had not received early intervention for my loss when I initially sought treatment from him years before. Sadly, the man was still uninformed about FFA and had never bothered to learn more about the condition than he knew eight years before even as he continued to practice dermatology.  He commented and commended my for my vast knowledge of FFA. Even at that appointment, he did not biopsy to seek the reason for this flare, and I didn’t think to ask for a biopsy. He clearly did not know how to treat a reoccurrence of troubling symptoms.

At that point in my story, the PA interrupted me, “And that is only one more reason why he is no longer a part of our practice.”  Unknown to me, this dermatologist was no longer affiliated with my primary care practice .  To my knowledge that means he has been associated with at least three practices in two different states since I’ve known him.

I guess I feel a sense of believing some justice has been served knowing that others in the medical community of which I am a part held a high standard of care high in the practice where I go for medical treatment for other concerns and removed a practitioner giving substandard care.  As always, I felt seen by this PA.  I knew I was heard. I knew I was respected. I felt believed.  I felt upheld in my feelings of anger over the lack care I was given.  I appreciated that he listened, gave me compassion, and then told me that the doctor would no longer be giving bad medical information in the capacity of being associated with this clinic.  

Fight for your hair.

My point is:  seek the best medical advise that you can if you begin to experience hair loss Don’t be dismissed with an “I don’t know” diagnosis. Find another doctor if you are able to do so. Fight for you hair.  In the end, the outcomes may not be what you hoped for, but at least you will know that you armed yourself with the best advice and treatment you could get. You will know you fought to the best of your capability and capacity.  

Coming to terms with hair loss

I long ago came to terms with this bad treatment plan (no treatment plan) I was given.  Hair loss acceptance is a process and a journey.  I have met the most amazing community of intelligent, beautiful, informative, and supportive people because of my hair loss.  I am mostly at peace with where I am in my journey. 

If you are suffering from hair loss, know that I care. I am here to support you on your journey to diagnosis, treatment, and acceptance of the condition. Please feel free to contact me by leaving a comment. If you have a friend or a family member suffering from hair loss, please send them a link to this post. I hope my post has been informative and helpful for all who experience hair loss.

Also, please sign up for my newsletter. I will be writing more on this topic on the blog, and in my newsletter.

I’ve added a few photos at the bottom of this post to give you some visuals about the hair loss I experienced.

My bio hair in February 2010, on my 65th birthday, was already changing in its texture, but I didn’t think much about it.

Three years later: my hair the year of my diagnosis. This photo was taken at a professional conference where I was presenting with a friend. My hair could still be styled somewhat, but that little curl in the middle of my forehead was getting pretty thin.

Five years later: my hair loss on my birthday of 2015. I remember being so self-conscious when we went out to celebrate. I hated how high my forehead had become, and the loss of eyebrows which I tried to draw on. Also, it was nearly impossible to hide all the loss. I bought my first alternative hair covering later that year.

Hair loss 2020 - all frontal and side hair is gone. There is scarring in its place. I now shave the remaining few hairs several times a year. I had eyebrows tattooed six years ago. And, I’m still wearing that same black hoodie I was wearing when this all started! I gained my self-confidence back, and I don’t mind being seen in public sans hair.

Strands of Silver

I thought I would be brave and that I would not cry,

But cry I did,

when I made that call to have my 

strands of silver 

shorn.  

Shorn.

So many images come to mind when I speak the word.

Sheep in the pasture after a shearing looking so 

naked.

So exposed.

Powerless,

 they are led to the shearing shed

 where their wool is cut and gathered.

Shorn.

The word can be used to describe depriving someone from power once wielded.

Shorn.

Yes, the days when my hair could be brandished,

shown off for its natural curl and color,

are gone.

I held on to those silver curls even when they were getting thin

because I needed to twirl them in my fingers,

wash them,

shake them out,

ply them.

I remember when once they wielded power over all the other girls with straight locks.

They looked at me with envy after a day of swimming.

In those days,

days of my youth,

I did not flaunt my curls on purpose.

In fact,

I did not love them.

I did not embrace them.

I fought them.

I straightened them.

Tape.

Orange juice cans.

Wrapping strands of hair on great big rollers,

before I went to bed.

Blow driers.

Hot irons.

Curling irons.

Reverse perms.

I tried all methods I ever knew of to try to achieve the looks the other girls had.

I did not want my curls.

I did not want those unique locks.

And yet,

curls 

have always been a major part of my identity.

There once was a little girl

With a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead.

That was me.

When I was older,

I let my hair go silver, and it was a beautiful silver.

I finally learned to embrace my curls.

And then,

I began to lose those silver strands of hair.

Strand,

By 

strand

hair fell from my head over many days and nights,

eight years of days and nights where hair fell out.

Silver would cover my clothing.

Silver strands would tangle in my fingers as I washed my hair.

It was a 

Slow

Shedding

Of

Silver 

Strands.

Shorn

By a strange disease,

scars

replaced where each of my hair follicles once flourished.

Today, 

I ran my fingers through those very few 

strands of silver

for

one last time.

My fingers where tangled in the 

silver strands

that have been deserting me.

Silver strands on a headband

I am done.

It is now time 

to wield

 my own power.

Today, I will be 

Shorn

Of these 

Silver strands forever.

A Trip to Philadelphia ~ Memorial Day to the Fourth of July ~ Part Two

These days, I do not travel alone.  I may go to Utah without Jim to visit my children, but other than that, as I have gotten older and have had a few health challenges, I do not like to travel alone.  Utah is a place where I spent many years living, and I have spent all of these thirty plus years since I left Utah returning at least once during the year for a visit, so I am very familiar with my surroundings there.  It is like returning to my old hometown. 

Also, I have friends and family there, so I never feel adrift when I am there alone.  I no longer drive to Utah alone.  I make the one hour flight so easily that I often wonder why I don’t make the trip more often.   Once I am there, I generally rent a car so I have my independence while visiting friends and family.  

Philadelphia 

This year, I made decision I rarely make these days. I decided to fly to Philadelphia alone so that I could attend conference. When we were working, Jim and I went to different destination spots to attend educational conferences. It was always fun to make those trips where we would learn new things, meet new people, and explore new places.  This trip to Philadelphia was different from many of those professional conference trips that we once made.  The conference I planned on attending in Philadelphia, while educational, was a medical conference where I would learn the very latest about living with and treating a medical condition that I have called Frontal Fibrosing Alopcia.  

Jim always so supportive of me in dealing with this condition, encouraged me to attend the conference.  I wanted to make a trip out of it for both of us, yet when we discussed the trip, we decided that he really would not enjoy being at the conference with me, and since the conference was being held at a hotel at the airport, it would be difficult and expensive for him to make trips into the city from the conference hotel to explore the historical sites found in the city.  We even discussed extending the trip so that we could explore the area together once the conference was over. We thought we might rent a car and drive to Scranton, Pennsylvania, to visit my son and his family.  

Flights, rental cars, and hotels are very expensive in the east during the first of June, so that also was a factor that we considered when we thought about making this trip together.  As it turned out, my son and his wife were going to be packing up and getting ready to move back to Colorado about the same time I would be attending the conference.  In the end, it just made more sense for me to travel alone to Philadelphia.  

If you have read my blog before, you may have read my accounts of living with alopecia.  I first wrote about my journey with hair loss in 2016.  You can read that post here:  Hair: A Journey of Loss.  The most recent I wrote can be read here:  Life Lessons Learned from Hair Loss.  

CARF

Cicatricial Alopecia Research Foundation

I attended my first CARF Conference two years ago in New Orleans.  When I was in New Orleans, I made great friends among the wonderful people whom also have some form of scarring alopecia.  One would never aspire to join the CARF community, yet one is so grateful to have a group that offers so much support when one is hit with scarring alopecia.   It is a shock to be hit with alopecia!  I often welcome new members to the scarring hair loss community by saying, “This is one of those clubs you never wanted to join, but you will find it is one the best clubs you can ever join because it is where you find so much understanding, support, and friendship.”

When I finally left for Philadelphia, I could hardly wait to meet all my friends that I had met in New Orleans two years ago.  Some of these friends, from all over the country, have been there when I have called them on the phone and we have talked for over an hour at a time sharing hope and help when it seemed no one else even knew anything about the disease we share.  We send emails, and we support each other online forums. We have an awesome community!

You won’t see photos of my alopecia friends in my posts because this is a condition many choose not to share with others.  I honor and respect the privacy that others wish to have.

********

I posted the following on a private internet support group page when I first arrived in Philadelphia:

I’m here in Philadelphia attending the CARF Conference. Ben and I have a lot in common. I never thought I’d end up looking like him, but FFA hit me, and now he and I have a real connection. I’m looking forward to learning more about this condition from the shared wisdom of this awesome group of people.

Good old Ben and I really do have a lot in common these days.  We share the same hairline.  Actually, Ben’s hairline is not as far back on his forehead as mine is, and he has more hair in the back than I do.  

My forehead is not even a “fivehead” anymore.  It is more like a “sixhead.”  In other words, I need the width of six finger to measure how far my hair has receded.  This is not the look I was going for as I aged!

*********

Once I landed in Philadelphia, I boarded a bus to take me to the hotel and happily realized that my dear, dear friend that I officially met two years ago was on the same bus.  She was the first person I ever spoke to by phone who also had the same form of scarring alopecia that I have.  We “met” over the net because I wrote a blog post about my condition.  Someone else with this condition read my post, called this friend to tell her to read my post.  Once this person read my post, she commented on my blog about what I written.  I read her comment, and then tracked her down, sent her an email, and then we spoke by phone for nearly two hours!  That was two and a half years ago.  I now count her among my dearest friends.  

*********

I saw little of Philadelphia itself.  Most of my time was spent at the conference.  I hope to write about the conference itself later.  I did however make three short trips into the city.  

The first day I in Philly, one of my friends and I took an Uber into the city, did a little bit of walking, and ate lunch while we caught up with each other about life and about our shared hair condition.  She took a photo of me while we were in town.  That’s me wearing one of my wigs while I am standing in front of Independence Hall.  

I learned from ConstitutionFacts.com, that those wig-wearing men whom frequented Independence Hall when our country was first founded were wearing wigs made of goat and horse hair.  Those wigs were seldom washed properly, smelled terrible, and tended to attract lice.  (Yuck)  That is why these wigs were called  “powdered wigs.” The wig wearer sprinkled a powder that was made of “finely ground starch and scented with lavender” over their wigs. (Was this the first dry shampoo?)

I can’t even imagine how heavy those wigs must have felt, and it makes my head itch to even think of having goat hair or horse hair next to scalp.  Scratch, scratch, scratch.  

Ben Franklin was truly a wise man.  He rocked his bald head.  He did not wear a wig.  

***************

My next trip into the city came when on the second night of my conference my son surprised me with a phone call saying that since the flights bringing his wife and baby to Pennsylvania had been disrupted by late flight connections, she was now flying into Philly.  He and his oldest son picked me up after my conference Saturday night dinner, and took me into town for dessert at Max Brenner’s.  What a fun time that was!  I didn’t think I’d get to see these two when I was in PA, but it turned out we had a special adventure of driving around downtown Philly at night while looking for that special place where chocolate addictions are fed by wonderful concoctions heavily flavored by chocolate. 

*************

On the last night of the conference, after nearly everyone else had gone home, one of my dear friends with scarring alopecia whom I met in New Orleans and then was able to spend time with again in Philadelphia, asked me to join her and her mother on a trip into the city for dinner.  We took a taxi to Reading Terminal Market.  What a fun place!  We ended up eating dinner at a place called Molly Malloy’s.  The hamburgers there were seriously the best I have eaten in a very long time!

It had been raining when we arrived at Reading Terminal Market, but since the rain had stopped when we finished eating, we decided to do a bit of a walking tour of Philadelphia.  

I recognized a few of the landmarks from my trip into town with my son Jonathan, so I suggested we go to Max Brenner’s for dessert.  I thought that Google Maps would help us find the way.  I think I also must have been thinking that the guy on the horse was pointing in the direction we should go.  

My friend took a walk through the water fountain...

We then got out to the street where we were supposed to go, but I learned that I am very challenged about direction in big cities.  Actually, I already knew that.  Also, I learned that when following Google Maps, one should make sure that the “walking” instructions are on instead of the “driving” instructions.  Oppps.  There are a lot of one way streets in Philadelphia, so the driving instructions kept telling us to turn when we should not have turned while walking.  

We were very turned around, and we were walking in the opposite direction from where we wanted to go.  My friend and her mother suggested that it seemed we were heading into a neighborhood that didn’t look too safe.  They were right.  Thankfully, a couple came along, and we asked them for directions.  Yep, we were truly walking in the opposite direction from our destination.

We turned around and soon we arrived at Max Brenner’s where for the second time, I enjoyed a wonderful chocolate dessert.  

***********

On my last day in Philadelphia, I only had time for breakfast at the hotel before I had to leave for the airport.  I was sure everyone from the conference had left when I went downstairs, but I was wrong.  As I headed to the restaurant, I heard the familiar voices of a few of my friends.  We all were so happy to have one last time to share a meal, some conversation, some words of support.  Departing hugs were given, and we all promised to meet again in two years for our next conference.  

My trip to Philadelphia was memorable for so many reasons.  I reunited with so many friends, and I made new ones.  As I have said before, some of the most intelligent, successful, and beautiful women I have ever met are the women I have met whom also suffer from scarring alopecia.  There are also some men in this group whom have given so much to make sure we have the support and information we need to deal with this disease.  I can’t imagine having this disease without the support of all of the wonderful people associated with CARF.  I’m so grateful I had the opportunity to attend this conference and spend some time in Philadelphia.

More on the conference itself later...

Life Lessons Learned From Hair Loss

In 2013, I was officially diagnosed with Frontal Fibrosing Alopecia (FFA).  When I was diagnosed with this hair loss condition, I had never even heard of it.  Somehow, after my diagnosis, in my internet search, I was able to find an online support group for those suffering from alopecia.  Within the online Alopecia Foundation site, I found a group specifically formed to support those diagnosed with FFA.  It was by participating in this internet group that I first found answers to the questions I had  regarding my hair loss journey.

June 2013 My hair right after diagnosis for hair loss.

If you have recently been diagnosed with scarring alopecia, or if you have been suffering from it for years, I am writing this post for you because I hope that you will find support from others whom have learned to live with this disease.  If you have not already done so, I hope you will one day be able to look back on the journey and say, “I am a better person because I have this disease than I was before I had it because now I have learned so much about who I really am as a person.”  

When I was first diagnosed with this condition five years ago, I never would have believed I would one day lose over 50% of my hair, nor would I believe that I would be able to say that I that I have gained more from having this condition than I have lost.  The process of getting to this point has taken much time, many tears, much pain, and a lot of searching for answers. 

June 2014 My son’s wedding I thought I could still hide my hair loss, but then the wind would blow!

 It was not until at least a year after my diagnosis that I first learned of the Cicatricial Alopecia Research Foundation (CARF).  It is a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing patient education and support for this little-known condition.

In June of 2016, still searching for answers, searching for a cure, and searching for that silver bullet that would give me the solution that I believed had to have, I registered for the 7th International Patient-Doctor Conference in New Orleans, Louisiana, that was sponsored by the Cicatricial Alopecia Research Foundation (CARF).  I was interested in participating in CARF, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing patient education for the little know condition of scarring alopecia or cicatricial alopecia, because it is dedicated to providing “education and patient support,” while also raising public awareness of this baffling disease, and the organization is also dedicated to promoting research into the causes and potential cures for the disease.

 

June 2016 My hair loss when I attended the CARF Conference could still be camouflaged  by wearing a headband.

Determined to find answers for this strange and baffling condition that had turned my life upside down, I was just sure if I attended this particular conference and had a chance to learn from all the experts in the field of scarring alopecia, I’d find what I was looking for: a cure.  

And so, in 2016, my husband I journeyed to New Orleans, the first time we’d ever been to this wonderful city, so I could learn more about the disease itself, find answers I had about treatment, and gain the support I needed to live with this rare condition that had struck me seemingly out of nowhere.  

While, the world of hair loss was still a very new world to me, I wasn’t a complete novice.  I’d learned a great deal about my condition from the previously mentioned support group for those suffering from Frontal Fibrosing Alopecia that was sponsored by the Alopecia Foundation online.  

I’d even written a blog post about my journey with hair loss that I had posted in the online support group.  From that post, I’d made a new friend, one whom was not a part of the online support group, but she was one whom was very knowledgeable about the condition and led a support group in a major city on the West Coast.  She had directly responded to my blog post in writing and gave enough identifying information that I was able to track her down by sending an email to her support group.  She responded by calling me.  I think we spent nearly two hours on the phone the first time we chatted.  Finally, and for the very first time, I actually was able to speak with a real live person who had the same disease I did, and who knew so much about it.  She was involved in helping with the CARF Conference, and she encouraged me to register and attend.

My ever-supportive husband also encouraged me to attend the conference.  He said he would accompany me and would spend the time I was at the conference exploring New Orleans.  And, so when the conference time arrived, off we went to NOLA.  

I remember not long after we checked into our hotel, Jim left the room to get ice, and returned saying, “You know you are at an alopecia conference when you start seeing bald women.”  I was horrified.  Bald?  My worst fear would be realized if I went bald, I thought to myself.  

Later that night, the night before the actual conference was to begin, anxious and yet hopeful, I put on my rather new custom-made hair piece that I had recently started wearing to camouflage my hair loss, and boarded a bus hired to carry fellow scarring alopecia sufferers to a pre-conference reception that was being held in a meeting room at a fancy restaurant near the French Quarter.  Before I’d even left the bus, I actually connected with women I’d already met online.   Conversations with these women soothed my nerves and made me feel less alone as I faced actually walking into a room where other conference attenders had gathered for a reception welcoming them to the conference. 

 

Custom made topper 2015

As I walked up the stairs to the meeting room, my mind went back to so many other receptions I had attended during my career in education.   Those meet and greet gatherings were always so enjoyable because I had a chance to mingle with colleagues that I knew and respected from my professional world.  I always looked forward to the conversations we would have that helped us form more personal connections, but this meet and greet with others afflicted with hair loss petrified me.  My confidence in socializing and in meeting new people had always been high, but after suffering from hair loss, I found social gatherings had suddenly become stressful.  I had lost a great deal of the confidence I had always possessed.  I felt very alone in my struggle, and I also felt very alone as I attended the function.  I only knew a few others because of “conversations” I’d had with them online, and I knew my friend I had spoken to on the phone, but she had many duties that night in making sure that all went well for conference attendees, so I didn’t feel I could latch right on to her for support and encouragement.

I’ll never forget entering that meeting room because as looked around, I was struck by how beautiful the women in that room were.  I don’t know when I’ve ever been in a room filled with more beautiful, gracious, and well-put-together women.  And the hair!  I saw the most amazing hair!  All I could think was, Why are these beautiful women with these amazing heads of hair attending a conference for those suffering from hair loss?  Soon, I was being introduced to others by the friends I made on the bus and by the friend that I made on the phone because of my blog post.  The women I met were so authentic and confident, I found myself asking myself as I studied each woman’s hair style, hair line, and hair color, Is that hair real, or is it a wig or hair piece?  Those of you who suffer from hair loss will probably chuckle when you read this because that is what we do.  We study hair lines, don’t we?

Soon, I learned each woman there was there to learn the same hair secrets I wanted to learn, and I learned we were there for each other.  In fact, by the end of the meet and greet, I was actually asking others, “Is that your bio hair?”  “How much hair have you lost?”  “What has your journey been like?”  “How have you disguised your hair loss?”  “Where DID you get that AMAZING hair.”  Others were asking me the same thing. 

Suddenly, I had a whole new group of friends who knew and understood the journey I had been on.  I could relate to them.  They could relate to me.  We were interested in each other’s stories.  Finally, I was not alone. 

The next morning, the conference finally began.  There was an impressive list of doctors and experts in the field of hair loss listed as speakers.  Always the student, and having attended so many educational conferences during my professional life, I was ready to learn as I entered the conference presentation room armed with my registration packet, a newly purchased composition book, and writing utensils

The first speaker gave an overview of the basics of cicatricial alopecia.  I took few notes, as I already knew the basics:  cicatricial alopecia is a form of hair loss accompanied by scarring.  I knew this.  I was attending the conference to learn more than just the basics about this condition, or so I thought.  Really, deep down inside, I was attending because I was just sure I would find a cure, a solution, something to STOP this dreadful disease from playing havoc with my life, my appearance, and my emotions.  

The speaker giving the overview had my attention, my pen was ready to take notes, but my mind could not seem to accept what I heard her say, “permanent and irreversible.”  I wrote those words down almost against my will.  Even as I knew these words were true, I could not fully accept them as truth.  As she spoke, I found myself thinking: She is a specialist in the area of hair loss, chairman of the board, and she knows all there is to know this awful condition, so how could she start off the entire conference program by saying scarring alopecia is permanent and irreversible? Wasn’t there something she could say that would give me hope?  I didn’t come to the conference to hear that I had a permanent and irreversible condition.  Those words confirmed what I already knew but could not accept.  

In truth, once scarring has taken place where hair once grew, the condition is permanent and irreversible.  The goal is to stop the progress before scarring has occurred.  There was so much unknown about the condition I had that I just could not begin to process it all.  Perhaps, whenever one is diagnosed with a disease that is life altering, it takes time to process what the condition or disease means to the person with the disease.  Words on a screen after doing an internet search that describe a disease or condition or disorder do not convey the full impact that diagnosis has on one’s psyche, nor do those words speak to how difficult it may be to accept and live with a diagnosis.  

Case in point: I attended the CARF Conference two years ago, and I am just now able to write about the impact it had me on my blog.  As a blogger, I had written about my family, the death of my daughter, health issues I had regarding my heart, and about a disastrous fall I had taken which resulted in six months of putting my life on hold, but I could not write about experiencing hair loss.  I had to process much of what I learned for years before I could write in depth about it.  I sank into a pretty deep depression.  I cried.  I hid.  I spent money on wigs, toppers, scarves, headbands, and hats, but I could not write about it all.

When I attended the CARF Conference in 2016, I was sure I would find the perfect treatment option for me so I could stop the devastation that comes from losing one’s hair, and so I could stop the sometimes “severe itching and burning” in the scalp that accompanies this disease.    

I did not find a cure for this disease at the conference.  No one has.  I did not find the silver bullet that would stop my hair loss.  My hair continued to fall out.  Today, much of my scalp is now covered with scar tissue that is permanent and irreversible.  

At some point in my journey, I decided that if I could even find a treatment or solution for the itching and burning that accompanied flares to the scalp that I’d be happy even if the hair continue to fall out.  Somehow, I did finally come to a place where most of the time I do not often suffer from intense pain, burning, or stinging in my scalp.  My scalp rarely feels like it is crawling these days. In fact, my dermatologist recently told me that my scalp is the “quietest” it has been in all the years he has been treating me.  But, I am not cured.  I may finally be in more or less remission, or my disease may have more or less “burned out.”  Only time will tell.  

I do not know what caused me to be at this stage in the physical manifestation of the form or scarring alopecia that I have now apparently entered.  I dabbled in using many of the drugs known to help with the disease, but reactions to the drugs, or unwanted side effects caused me to not use the treatments.  I stopped all medications and treatments except for the rare days when I have flare.  On those days, I apply a small amount of clobetasol solution, or tacrolimus to inflamed area on my scalp. 

When I was diagnosed, my disease was so advanced, and there was so much scarring that really there was little I could do about the condition. I had an advanced case before it was ever treated because I was not diagnosed until I had significant scarring.  Early diagnosis and treatment is thought to give the patient with scarring alopecia a better chance for stopping or at least slowing down the progression of the disease.

Since those early days in my journey into the world of hair loss, I have learned there is more to this journey than just finding the right medical treatment.  This journey involves doing a lot of work in the innermost parts of the mind, the heart, and the emotions.  As I have sought healing for this condition, I have learned healing is an inside job.  I have learned I must heal from the inside out.  

February 2015 My 70th Birthday Wearing a hat which is pulled down to hide my hairline at the beach in Florida.

As I look back on the nearly two years since I attended the CARF Conference, I have to ask myself what I have learned about myself.

• I have learned that my journey with hair loss is similar to the journey of loss that I experienced after the death of my daughter.  Certainly, the loss of one’s hair can never be compared to the loss of a loved one, but the journey itself is one also marked with five to seven stages that have been identified as the stages of grief.
• I’ve learned that my identity is not found in my hair, my appearance, or how I present to the outside world.  Learning this truth, is a gift.  I have more freedom in self-expression now than I had when I had a head covered with hair.  My identity has nothing to do with how I look or how others see me.  
• I have learned that I am resilient.  Resiliency can’t be taught.  Resiliency is only achieved when one goes through loss, trial, or hardship.  Resiliency is also a gift because according the definition to resilience in Mirriam-Webster, it allows one to adjust to and easily accept misfortune or change.  I don’t think that most of us actually easily accept misfortune or life altering change, but I do think that once we learn that we are resilient, we find it much easier to be resilient each time we meet misfortune.
• I’ve learned that the fear of losing most of one’s hair is much worse than actually losing a large portion of one’s hair.  Quite honestly, in those early days after I was diagnosed with FFA, and after I saw the photos of what might happen to my hair, I was consumed by fear.  After the initial shock of the diagnosis, I went into denial.  I told myself I would have a different outcome than the poor women in the photos illustrating FFA which can be found in the literature about this disease, yet when my appearance began to resemble that which I feared most, I no longer was afraid over how I might look.  
• I have learned that as in so many other areas of life, acceptance is the first step in getting on with the hard things in life.  Acceptance itself is a process.  It takes time.  It takes making peace with those things over which we have no control. 

 

My New Wig November 2017

Recently, as I spoke with another hair loss sufferer, we spoke of how we are almost thankful that we have had to have this journey because we have learned so much about ourselves on the journey.  We have learned resilience and authenticity.  We’ve learned to adapt and live life to the fullest anyway.  We’ve learned that reaching out and helping others along the journey gives us joy and enriches our lives.   

I am passionate about being involved in educating others about this disease.  Beauticians and doctors are on the front lines when it comes to being the first to observe what might be happening when a woman first begins to show signs of losing hair, but unfortunately most beauticians and many, far too many, doctors have never seen scarring alopecia and don’t recognize its symptoms.  I consulted the first dermatologist six years before I was diagnosed.  During those six years, I consulted three more dermatologists.  None recognized my disease until I finally insisted on a biopsy.  By that time, I had advanced and significant loss.

I am passionate about research for this disease because I do not want my daughters, my sons, my grandchildren, my nieces or nephews, my cousins, my siblings to have to suffer from this terrible condition.  I don’t want anyone to go through the effects of this disease.  It breaks my heart when I read of each new diagnosis.

I am passionate about providing support for others whom have been diagnosed with scarring alopecia.  I am so very grateful for those whom went before me because of the way they have taken an affliction and turned it into ways to help others.  There are so many of you out there that have led the way for me.  Thank you.

For all these reasons, I intend to write more about the hair loss journey I have been on. I will add my voice to all those others suffering from little known orphan diseases.  Scarring alopecia or cicatricial alopecia is just one of many immune disorders that qualify as orphan diseases. 

This is my disease.  I own it. I will not let it own me.

Girl Friend Party Christmas 2017 Wearing a wig and my favorite boots - a winning combination.

Living with Hair Loss

It seems I must learn the lesson of living in the now on a daily basis.  I recently came across this photo taken by my husband about six years ago when we were on a trip to the eastern part of my country.  The image stunned when I first saw it because I saw myself as I was then.  I'd forgotten what I looked like. Quite honestly, the tears fell because the pain of hair loss screamed at me again.  "What would it be like to have hair again?" I wondered.  Was I living in the moment then?  Was I appreciative that I didn't have to figure out what to do with my head sans hair as I now have to do each morning and throughout the day? The takeaway lesson that I had from viewing this photo was that life is best lived in the moment  because you never get that moment again.  

Each day, I wake and try to live anew with a condition called Frontal Fibrosing Alopecia.  The hair falls in the shower, it comes out in the brush, my head itches, it hurts, it burns, and I have to decide what look I will have for the day.  

I don’t want to wear head coverings that scream cancer.  I don’t have cancer.  I don’t want to look like I might be dying from some condition.  This condition, the hair loss condition that I have, is killing me, but I’m not dying from it.  There is a big difference between dying, actually dying, and feeling like something is killing you.  

This is not the look I was going for, but it is the one I have

FFA (Frontal Fibrosing Alopecia) has killed my hair.  It took my eyebrows.  It took my bangs.  It is still taking.  It also killed my attachment to my hair, my bio hair, along the way.  It killed the link between my hair and my identity.

It has not killed me.

So much of my identity was tied up with my hair.

It still is, but now, I am learning a new identity.  The identity I wish to project is one I have struggled to accept.  It is the identity of a woman who wishes to live life as she is: nearly bald, altered on the outside, but changed on the inside.  I have progressed through the stages of grief over this new appearance of mine.  I’ve cried.  I’ve hidden.  I’ve screamed.   I denied that this could really happen to me to the degree to which it has happened. I’ve spent a lot of money on cures and cover-ups. I’ve been through the bargaining stage where I thought if I just changed my life style, the creams and lotions I used, changed my diet, this condition would die out.  None of that helped much or changed the advance of this progressive and permanent condition.  Those words progressive and permanent, I was just sure would not apply to me when I first heard them, but those words are true, and they are my reality.  Acceptance has been a long time coming, but day by day, I accept that there is so much in life that I can not change.

There is a meme that makes its way around social media where an image of a crazy haired woman is paired with the saying, “You can’t control everything.  Hair was put on your head to show you that.”  I fought and cursed my wild and crazy curly hair from my earliest days.  I wanted hair like all the other girls had:  smooth, under control, and straight.  I never embraced the hair I had until just before I started losing it.  I always tried to make my hair look different from how it was.  I wanted it to not have a mind of its own.  I wanted it full and straight, or at least I wanted it to have body without all the curves it seemed to want to take on its own.  I wanted to tame my hair.  I looked for the right styling aids, shampoos, conditioners, gels, and techniques to achieve the head of hair I wanted instead of the head of hair I had. How I wasted the times I had to just live life the way I was in that moment.

I was always looking for the perfect hair stylist. I had one for a short time.  Deborah was that perfect hair stylist. She was beautiful, stylish, glamorous, smart, a great business woman, a true professional, well read (we talked of books and literature), and she knew hair, especially curly hair.  She transformed my experience with my hair.  She helped me embrace the hair  God gave me.  She cut, and styled, and dyed my hair and loved on me and spoke her wisdom about life as she lovingly worked on my hair. Every trip to her salon made me feel like I had been transformed and lifted up inside and out.   

There was the time I was unfaithful to her and went to another salon and had my hair cut as short as I could get it so I could see what my real color was.  She said, “Was he drunk when he cut your hair?”  She thought I was too young and too young looking to go gray, but she went along with my desire to try and rock my natural color. 

I think of her often as I go through this journey of hair loss.  She shaved her own head and was stunningly beautiful before she sold her shop and before she got cancer.  Cancer took her quickly.  She died from cancer.  I am just living with hair loss.  There is a big difference.

I know Deborah would say to me, “You go girl.  Get the best hair piece you can and take good care of it.  Don’t be afraid to try new hair styles/wigs.  Wear fun scarves, headbands, and hats.  Don’t forget to get big, dangly earrings.”  Once, she fixed my hair right before a big social event.  She loved my outfit, but said the earrings would never do.  She left her shop with me by her side and walked me down the street to a little shop selling fun accessories and picked out the earrings she said I needed to wear.  I still have them.  Maybe, I’ll go put them on in celebration that I have what  she was denied: life. 

You just never know what look I will come up with. Summer 2017

Who knows, maybe I will shave my head.  I will never rock a shaved head like Deborah did, but I learned from her that hair is just fluff.  No one really needs fluff.  Hair, hairstyles, the perfect body, glowing skin, and just the right touches to clothes and accessories are fun, but when we think that we are projecting who we are through these expressions of outward appearance, we fool ourselves.  We probably aren’t fooling anyone else.  I know what few others get to learn: acceptance is an inside job.  

Hair ~ A Journey of Loss

Today, after consulting with one of the specialists at the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus,  I made a decision that I regret not making nearly two years ago.  Now that the decision has been made, I wonder why it took me so long to make it.  I think the main reason for not making the decision was denial and fear.  I am not one to take medicines.  I resist taking medicine until I know I have no other option.

I hardly know where to begin in telling you this story about a journey I have been on that started more than ten years ago.  I've never written about this journey.  Oh, I written many a blog post in my mind, but I've committed none of these posts to writing.  I've only written about this journey in my journal and in my writing group.  Now the time has come when I am finally ready to tell you about my journey into the world of hair loss.

I don't really know when the journey began because it was a completely innocuous journey in the beginning.  I noticed many years ago that I no longer had hair on my arms, but then, I never had a lot of hair, so I thought little of it.  Then, I noticed I didn't need to shave my legs because I didn't have hair on my legs.  

Score!

That is a benefit that I get from going through menopause

, was my first thought.

Next, as I innocently proceeded on this journey I didn't know I was on, I started noticing that I had a red inflamed spot on the left side of my hair line.  It didn't itch.  It just looked terrible.  I also noticed that hair would fall out when the spot seemed to heal and move to a new spot.  Finally, on April 6, 2006, nearly ten years ago, I consulted a dermatologist.  I told him it looked like I had an infection or inflammation of some type on my scalp.  I somewhat sheepishly told him I didn't know what to do about it so I was treating the area with Listerine.  Seriously, I did that!  My logic was that putting this antiseptic on the weird looking sore would be better than doing nothing.  I had also stopped using the hair product I was using because I thought my scalp was reacting to it.

I was already into a hair loss journey in this photo, but I didn't know it.

2011

Frankly, I was dismissed by the derm.  I think he thought I was a nut job.  I guess I can forgive him for that.  I'm sure he hadn't seen anyone else that was using Listerine on skin problems that day.  He asked me if I had tried Windex.  Funny.  He then said he didn't know what it was.  He'd never seen it before.  He thought it might be psoriasis, but it didn't really look like it.  I have a history of psoriasis, so I accepted his diagnosis.  He did not offer to biopsy the area.  He gave me a prescription for Protopic and sent me on my way.  The Protopic cleared up the worst of the inflammation, and I thought little about it again.

My hair continued to thin.  I fretted, but I also figured it was a part of aging.

I remember that during the summer of 2010, just months after my daughter Julie died, my hair started falling out enough to notice.  My clothes would be covered with fine silver hair.  When my friends or family would start picking it off of my clothes, I called it my tinsel.  

The tinsel is falling of the tree,

I'd say.  I was told by doctors that stress was causing my hair loss.  "It will come back."

In July of 2011, I was visiting my daughter in Utah during a time of great stress for her.  The morning after I arrived, as I was putting on my makeup, I noticed my eyebrows were completely gone.  They'd been there the day before.  I called to my daughter, "Keicha, come here.  Do you see any hair where my eyebrows should be?  Where have my eyebrows gone?"  She confirmed that the eyebrows were indeed gone.  She didn't know their whereabouts.  This seemed really odd.  Under my breath, I said "I rather liked my eyebrows."

Another doctor visit about the the loss of the eyebrows received this response, "Have you been plucking them?"  Seriously.  In the doctor's defense, I must say that it was actually a legitimate question.  Perhaps, she thought my stress had started manifesting itself with

trichotillomania

, otherwise known as hair-pulling disorder.

I saw a new dermatologist.  She was a personal friend and knew of my recent loss.  She was compassionate and supportive.  She thought I had a form of alopecia.  She said stress could have triggered it, but she thought we should take a wait and see approach. She said it wasn't really presenting like alopecia areata.

Alopecia

al·o·pe·ci·a

ˌaləˈpēSH(ē)ə/

noun

MEDICINE

5. the partial or complete absence of hair from areas of the body where it normally grows; baldness.

Alopecia, a word I couldn't even pronounce if I did remember the term when describing a person who suffered from the condition.

I remember coming home from the appointment and looking up the condition on Dr. Google.  I wrote the term down and practiced saying it.  I didn't want to forget what it was.  (Believe me there has been no forgetting!)  This doctor was the third doctor that I had seen for my hair loss.

I looked up the specialist for alopecia areata on Dr. Google.  I found it was

Dr. Norris at UC Health

.  I felt I was a bit premature to try to get an appoint with him.

The next time I saw my endocrinologist, I asked her what she thought was going on.  She said that my thyroid was not the problem.  She said that it could be stress that was causing the problem, but she wanted me to get the scalp biopsied.

Heaven only knows why it took me a year to get a scalp biopsy.  There are legitimate reasons:  I had a fall that resulted in a head injury.  I suffered from visual vestibular disorder and couldn't drive for a year.  I had heart problems I was chasing down.  I had digestive problems I was trying to solve.  We sold our house.  We moved.  I had a lot going on.  My hair continued to fall out.

Finally in March of 2013, I saw another new to me dermatologist in Colorado Springs. He immediately diagnosed me as having

frontal fibrosing alopecia

, but he said that he would have to biopsy my scalp for a solid diagnosis.  I had never heard of FFA before.  The biopsy came back confirming FFA and

lichen planopliaris

.  He sat me down and painted a grim future for me and my hair.  He showed me pictures from the internet.  I was in shock and disbelief.  "Surely this won't happen to me."   He said that there was really no treatment, and he said that the treatments that might help were dangerous.  

Plaquenil

was mentioned as something I could try, but he thought the risks out weighted the benefits.  He said nothing would bring my hair back.  The plaquenil just might stop the process of loss.  I chose not to take plaquenil.  He prescribed clobetasol as a topical to help with the itching, pain, and soreness.  Yes, FFA and LLP are quite painful.  The pain is physical and not just emotional.

I saw Dr. Norris at UC Health in early to mid 2014.  He wanted to give me plaquenil.  He also prescribed

finasteride

, using its non-generic name of

Avodart

.  He said, "Avodart is being seen as having success in fighting FFA in the literature coming from the research being done at Duke University.  It is given to men with enlarged prostate, but it seems to stop the progression of FFA."  I was in shock, and quite frankly, I thought to myself that the man was grasping at straws.  Well, I was too, but I wasn't quite ready to be a lab rat.  Later that evening, I received a call from the pharmacist.  "I just received a prescription for finasteride for you from a doctor at the University hospital.  I've never seen this prescribed to a woman before.  I think there has been a mistake."  I assured him it was not a mistake.  I asked for his input.  In the end, I decided against taking any oral medications.  I did not want to be a science project.

I found another dermatologist.  This one prescribed topical steroid treatments.  I also began getting

Kenalog

shots in the scalp.  I broke out in rashes from the shots.  I broke out in rashes from all the traditional steroid treatments.  I took pictures of the rashes to show my doc.  He said "No more steroids for you."  My hair continued to fall out.

I learned how to cover up a lot of the loss with headbands, scarves, hats.  Then, I bought a hair piece.  I then bought three different wigs.  I cut up the wigs and made my own hair pieces.  I had a hair piece handmade for me to match my hair loss pattern.  I had not counted on having the loss spread even more to the crown of my head over the last couple of months.  I was truly in denial that it would ever get that bad.  I no longer can disguise my condition.

Below is a selfie of my new hair piece that I had designed and made for me.  Only the bangs and the top part of the sides are not my real hair.  The back of my head is covered with my own hair.  I love the solution that my amazing cranial prosthesis hair dresser at made for me.  My eyebrows are drawn on everyday.  I must do a pretty good job because I've fooled more than one doctor when I've told them my eyebrows are gone.

After Christmas, I called Dr. Norris and made an appointment.  I was now willing to take finasteride and plaquenil.  My doctors at National Jewish encouraged me to try these medications and assured me of their safety.  I was told I had to do something about the inflammation levels in my body.  Inflammation has  destroyed much my hair by causing it to to fall out and leave behind scar tissue that will never again produce hair.  I don't need inflammation to destroy my heart or my joints or any other part of my body.  I have several auto-immune diseases now.  Two of them are quite rare.  I don't need any more.  I have made my decision.  I'm taking the medicine.  I giving this terrible, disfiguring, destructive disease a good fight.  I hope to stop the loss.  Who knows, maybe I will even grow back a bit of my hair.

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