Today's rambling: Why did I bother?
Written on Friday, Nov. 07, 2003 at 10:01 p.m.
while feeling a bit

Today was the date of my dermatologist appointment. Y'know, the one I've been waiting over a year for? It was at 9 this morning, and I was dead tired because Mom and I had gotten home so late last night. And then I forgot to turn back the clock in my room, so I woke up at 5:30 instead of 6:30...and didn't realize it 'til later. :

At the medical place, I had to fill out a questionnaire thingy about my hair loss, and then when I was finally called back I got asked more questions by a nurse. Then a doctor-in-training came in, asked me even MORE questions, and finally he said he was going to go get the doctor.

The doctor, having heard my story before he came in, checked my scalp and said that this was a classic hereditary hair-loss case. I thought that was a good thing. I thought that if it was such a common thing, surely they'd be able to do something about it.

Essentially, he told me there was nothing he could do.

Nothing.

I'm supposed to try the 5% strength Rogaine (y'know, the kind made for men) and come back in a year to see if there's any change. He took a picture of my head. Just like in those Rogaine commercials where they show you the women's thin-haired heads. I'm not quite sure how I kept myself from bawling right there in the office, but I made up for it after all the paying and information-correcting was over with. Mom asked if he'd given me any hope at all, and I just started crying and shook my head.

Oh, I know there are worse things that could be happening to me. I could have cancer, or AIDS, or some other type of terminal illness. In that respect, I'm quite lucky.

But nonetheless, it's not such a lucky thing to be such a freak. Women are supposed to have thick, beautiful hair. What cruel force decided that some of us would not be able to have those same luxuries? How could I go from having such thick hair as a child to getting up 2 hours early each day just so I can cover up my thinning spots?

And WHY is it that science can fix so many things--some of which that aren't in need of being 'fixed'--yet it can't do anything for girls who are losing their hair?

I came home and slept all day. Geoff called around 4:30, asking if I wanted him to swing by and pick me up. I didn't even want to get out of bed, much less stare at my reflection long enough to fix my hair. But I felt bad just saying no to him, so I ended up waffling for about 5 minutes. And then finally he just made the decision that we wouldn't do anything tonight. "You sound out of it anyway," he said. When I laughed a little, he said bye and that was that. So I cried some more, then slept for another 2 hours.

Mom told me not to give up, that we're going to try again. She just wasted--literally wasted--150 dollars today so that a guy in a white jacket could tell me there's nothing that can be done. There's no way in hell I'm going to let her waste another couple of hundred so that other doctors can tell me the same thing.

The powers that be are constantly helping me out with trivial matters, but why is it that with things that mean so much to me, I get nothing? And when did this turn into a rant against the heavens?

I just feel like dying right now, basically. Not that most of you can understand where I'm coming from (something for which you should be grateful for, since it probably means you don't have this problem). I've been stressing so much about this that I've actually had nightmares about losing my hair. My daydreams of late have been filled with images of me having hair again, and my dreams at night are filled of horrible images. I shouldn't be stressing out about something like this. But I honestly thought something would be done. I wasn't aware that hair loss is such a difficult thing to fix.

Now I can only hope that people never stop selling non-shimmer black eyeshadow. Because it looks as though I'll be buying it in copious quantities for the rest of my life.

I'm going to go back to bed now.