Hair today, gone tomorrow

You know, I never loved my hair.

In fact, I was pretty sure I hated it until about four months ago when it started falling out.

In bunches.

In the shower, over the sink... on my pillow, in my food. My hair volume is about 50% of what it was earlier this year. I had my thyroid re-tested, miscellaneous bloodwork.. all normal. I eliminated common causes of hair loss, until I was left with one explanation...

Stress.

It may have triggered my follicles to cease and desist. This equally pisses me off and makes for, yep, MORE STRESS.

Brace yourselves...

Yes,  my actual head.

Notice anything BESIDES the thinning hair?

Like red prickly marks?

That was where my dermatologist shot 15 needles INTO MY HEAD.

Scalp to be exact.

I had no idea where he was going with the appointment when he asked, can I give you a steroid injection? To see if it helps your situation? To which I said, yes, whatever.. PLEASE FIX MY HAIR.

I kinda had a panic attack shortly after ... I VAGUELY remembered him asking me to collect my hair in envelopes over the next week or two, then all of a sudden the injection (that I thought was going into my arm) was aimed at my head. Oh, and the best line yet...

"this may hurt a little..."

OMFG. It paled in comparison to the, oh, 1000 or so shots I endured during my active duty in infertility.    I'd sooner shoot an intramuscular needle into my flesh blindfolded than endure this torture.

He kept injecting and injecting all over my head. My eyes started to water when he proceeded to massage my scalp.

Then he smiled sent me on my way with my homework assignment and set up my next appointment.  I am forever changed.  And I have a headache.

The only thing scarier than this visit will be the bill when it comes in the mail.

Or if I go bald. (please noooooo)

Ten Years

It's been ten years.

If you've been a reader around my blog for awhile, you know that I try to somehow touch on the remembrance of 9/11 each year this date rolls around, whether it be in a blog post, Twitter, Facebook, or just with a pen to paper in my own thoughts. You can read some of the posts here,  here and my original story here.

I am feeling a bit unsettled this year. I know that people are naturally drawn to "milestones" so of course ten years does mark an important passage of time. It seems like yesterday, I suppose. But then again, it seems like a lot has happened since then.

So, we all grieve in different ways, ways right? No way is the right way. All of them are valid, of course, depending on how close or far your were to the day's events.

I consider myself "once removed", that is... I worked a block away from the World Trade Center that year (traveling in from Jersey on a regular basis). My heart was there that day, but I wasn't... just by the sheer luck of a meeting reschedule. I didn't personally know anyone that perished, but I knew quite a few that escaped (narrowly).

I watched all the TV coverage over the initial months, fearful that I could have certainly been a casualty if not for a random event. Wondering what may have been, feeling gut-wrenching sorrow for those families and co-workers, alive and dead, enduring the pain of loss.

In recent years, I stopped watching any media coverage. Why? Well, it's hard to say this but each year after, I started to feel "dirty". Much of the coverage seemed a lot less to do about recovering and more to do with "news that sells".

You know what I mean... or maybe I should explain. Why is it that only certain families losses are featured over and over? Some have become mini-celebrities in spite of themselves. Out of all of the thousands of people that died? I must put a disclaimer here, as I don't want to offend anyone. I just find much of the news coverage to be....

indulgent.

A local news radio in my area is replaying their segments from September 11th this Sunday. And the point of that is.....?

For me, remembering is all about paying our respects to those who died and continue to die because of what happened that day. I feel sorrow for the victims, the families, friends, co-workers, and loved ones that continue to live life in memory of the ones that can't.

I pay respect to our servicemen/women who have worked tirelessly to keep our country safe, even losing their own lives for it.  

What I don't want.. the drudging up of emotions for shock value. Such as, replaying a live segment (which I heard last year) when a broadcaster realized that the "thumps" they were hearing behind them were not bits of building, but bodies dropping from the towers before they fell.

Is this how we remember?

It just doesn't seem right to me. But then again, we all find our own way to lessen the pain I guess. I hope you find your own, and that this weekend finds you safe with those you love.

xo