I'ma 32 year old mother of two. I've kept in shape post-pregnancy and myhusband is very appreciative. In fact, I look as good as I did on mywedding day except for my hair. The color is kind of a lifeless brownwhere it used to be a beautiful chocolate brown. But color is an easyfix. The main problem I have is hair loss. A certain amount of hairloss is normal after pregnancy, but this was ridiculous. It wasrelatively mild after the first one, but after the second one I waspulling out hair by the handfuls. The length is to my shoulders. Anylonger and I fear I'll pull it out even easier. I've taken to wearinghats when I go out because it looks so bad. A few tears have been shed,but I haven't quite reached the point of depression.
Oneday, I was leafing through a Cosmopolitan magazine when I caught asmall ad for hair rejuvination therapy. I was skeptical, but I loggedon to their website anyway. It was a cosmetic dermatology officespecializing in laser skin treatments and hair removal. The site didn'thave alot of information about the treatment I was interested in andthe office just happened to be local, so I called and made anappointment for a consultation.
Whenthe day finally came I insisted that my husband come along. As we satin the waiting room I filled out the obligatory medical history forms,and after not too long of a wait we were ushered back into the clinicarea. Dr. Sherman was a beautiful, well-put-together woman in her midthirties, wearing a smart looking suit and heels. She was gentle andwell spoken. I gave her my story and she listened intently as I rantedabout my fall from beauty.
Atlast she spoke. "I've heard this story a few times before," she said."I can help. First off, this treatment is fairly involved. It takes asignificant time commitment and has considerable expense. I'll explaineverything and you can make your decision."
I sat eager to hear more. "Go on," I pleaded.
"Alright,"she continued. "The course involves biweekly treatments for about sixmonths. The total cost is around 8 or 9 thousand dollars. This coversall medications, office time, laser treatments and follow up visits.Are you still interested."
Igulped and looked at my husband. He said, "Let's listen to all thedetails and if it's still something you want we'll try to work it out."
I smiled back at him. He was always so supportive.
She went on. "Okay,first I'll start you on some oral medication. It's a mild androgendesigned to activate your hair follicles. It does have some sideeffects such as increased libido and increase body hair growth."
"That shouldn't be a problem," I said. "I had all the hair below my neck lasered off a few years ago."
"Good," she said. "The other big thing is that you would have to shave your head."
I gasped. "Shave my head! You mean bald."
Shenodded. "The biweekly treatment involves a topical ointment thatsensitizes your scalp to the laser. The reason we have good resultshere is because we use both a systemic and local approach. The downsideis that you have to shave your head every two weeks for the duration ofthe treatment course."
"Sixmonths bald. I don't know if I could do that," I said. "And what aboutskin cancer? If the ointment is a photosensitizer, doesn't that causecancer?"
"Thelaser I use is not in the ultraviolet spectrum, so the risk isextremely low. But I would probably cover your head when you out in thesun."
"Don't you use a laser for hair removal?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied, "but this laser also uses a less intense beam than the one used for hair removal."
"You can look at some pictures of patients that I have treated in the past," she said and handed us a book.
Therewere several pages of before and after pictures. Some of these womenwere worse off than me but looked great in the after pictures.
"I'll have to think about it," I said. "It's alot of money and time. But we will be in touch. Thank you for your time."
Shethanked us and we left the office. My head spun. What do I do? Ithought. Finally a chance to have great hair again, but after spendingnine grand and being bald for six months, I didn't know if it was worthit.
Ibarely slept that night. I woke up early to get more ideas on theinternet. After two hours of surfing I came up empty. My husband wokeup and asked what was going on.
"I've got nothing," I said. "I think if I don't go through with it I'll be like this forever."
Hegave me a hug and said, "Well, you could always get one of those poodlecuts that those old ladies with thinning hair get." He gave me asarcastic smirk.
I smirked back.
Over the next two weeks I seemed to be pulling out even more hair andwas beginning to get more discouraged. In desparation I called up mysalon and made an appointment for later that afternoon. It had beenseveral months since I'd been in. I sat down in the chair and unloadedto my stylist. I told her of the dermatology appointment and the costsand how my hair still seemed to be thinning. I was in tears by the endof it. She turned me around and hugged me.
"Maybe it is time to go for the poodle cut," I said. "This is my last ditch effort."
"One poodle cut coming up," she said.
Shesprayed my hair and combed it out, cutting it to about three inches allover. Then she put my hair in one inch rollers all over and covered itwith bad smelling perm solutions. After sitting under the setting hoodfor about 45 minutes I emerged and the styling continued. She pulledout the rollers and teased my hair thoroughly until it was evenly set.I looked in the mirror and wasn't thrilled with the result. I lookedabout fifteen years older, but at least you couldn't see my scalp aseasily. I paid and thanked her and headed home.
Myhusband greeted me when I got home. He used to give me lavish praisewhen I restyled my hair, but this time he only reached out and held mesaying, "You'll always be beautiful to me." I broke down again for thesecond time that day. This time with uncontrollable sobs. He just heldme. I cried myself to sleep that night.
Thenext morning over coffee he told me, "If you want to go ahead with thistreatment, I'll support you 100%. But know that this is not about me.I'll love you the same if you have great hair or not so great hair. Doit for you."
Another tear drifted down my cheek. "I love you," I said, and quickly dug the business card out of my purse.
"I want to start as soon as possible," I said over the phone.
"Okay,great," said the doctor. "I'll call in a prescription for themedication I told you about and we'll meet in exactly four weeks. Don'tforget to shave your head before coming to the appointment."
Andwith that my heart sunk a little. I had almost forgot that I had toshave my head. Oh well, I get to enjoy my poodle cut for a littlewhile, I thought, yeah right.
Ipicked up my prescription and began taking it. Over the course of thenext few weeks I did notice some increase in my sexual appetite.Fortunately my husband wasn't turned off by my ridiculous perm. Or atleast he didn't let on that he was. Also fortunate was the fact thatbecause of prior hair removal I wasn't becoming hirsute. At last theday of the appointment came. He husband only worked a half day toaccompany me to my first appointment. He also bought a pair of barber'sclippers and some razors on his way home.
Thekids were still at school. We went into the bathroom, I took off myshirt, and he draped a towel over my shoulders. "Ready to say goodbyeto the old lady?" he asked.
"Shave away," I said.
He switched to clippers and mowed them into my hair from front to backagain and again until there was nothing left but stubble. He then put awarm, moist towel on my head to open up my pores. He lathered my scalpthoroughly with a feminine smelling shaving lotion and with long evenstrokes removed the last of my hair. I stared at my reflection withsome disbelief but mostly with encouragement. One day not far from nowI would have a full head of hair again. I also noticed how NOT ugly Ilooked. It certainly looked better than the poodle cut. We cleaned upquickly and drove in, but not without my everpresent hat.
Wewere greeted warmly and taken in promptly to the treatment room. One ofthe office assistants took care of getting things going. She evenlyapplied the ointment over my entire scalp and covered it with seranwrap. After about thirty minutes Dr. Sherman entered the room.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"More than ready," I responded.
"This is going to hurt a little bit, but probably not as much as your hair removal did," she said.
Shewent over my entire scalp with the laser. I was pleased with howmethodical and thorough she was being. She never seemed rushed. Thesensation was like a tiny electric shock, not painful, but definitelynoticeable. I was left with a little bit of a tingle at the end.
"Don't forget to stay out of the sun," she reminded me.
"Of course," I said, and thanked her.
Ileft the office feeling somewhat fulfilled, even though I knew I had along way to go. So the biweekly ritual continued, beginning with myheadshave and ending with a slight tingle in my scalp. Even toward theend she treated us like a brand new patient, never impatient, neverbored. I appreciated that immensely. Finally the twelfth treatmentcame. The six months had seemed to pass much more quickly. I walkedfrom the office with a feeling of exhileration. We still had follow upappointments at one and three months and I had to continue the oralmedicine for a full six more months. But I was done with the worst ofit. We had budgeted and cut corners everywhere to allow for this and westill had a loan to pay off, but I still felt relieved.
Twomore weeks had gone by and I had 3/8 inch stubble like before, and itwas hard to tell how much thicker it was because the change was gradualand my hair hadn't been longer than this in six months. But I didn'thave to shave it off this time. I returned again to the office for myone month appointment and Dr. Sherman was very pleased at the growth.It was only 3/4 of an inch long, but you could see the difference. Ialso had to remind myself that the last time she saw me with hair itwas long and thin. Definitely a more objective viewpoint than my own.At three months it had grown out to pixie length and was looking reallygreat. Even the color was improved. I gave her a huge hug and told herI would definitely tell all my friends about her office.
Ikept growing my hair out. By six months I had stopped the pills and myhair was to the bottom of my ears. It was starting to look shaggy so Ischeduled an appointment for a trim. My hairstylist nearly flipped whenshe saw how thick my hair was. She couldn't believe how much strongerit was too. There were hardly any split ends, even though I hadn't cutit for six months. She cut it very short in the back but left thelength on the top and sides. It was a super cute bob style. I loved it.
Ayear later my hair was down to my shoulders and just as thick as ever,with that beautiful chocolate brown I missed. I loved my long hair anddidn't want to stop, so I just kept growing it. After another two yearsit was just past my waist, all one length and one thickness the wholeway down. I was the envy of everyone I knew. My self esteem was neverbetter. That sacrifice was so worth it and I would recommend it toanyone in my situation.
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