Words from Dic(tionary)

Alopecia: (n.) a condition in which partial or complete loss of hair occurs from areas of the body where it normally grows; baldness

I think I’ve finally found a word that’s worse than “bald.” I just don’t believe I could bring myself to tell folks that I suffer from “alopecia.”

It’s hair.

I have to admit that having hair is a very positive experience.

Somehow or another I knew even when I was in my early twenties that the hair that was visiting my scalp had no intention of staying over for more than a summer vacation. Yes, by the time I was in my mid-thirties I was fairly depleted of hair, although I made a few vague attempts to cover up my lack.

There was even a spray that you could squirt on your head, and if you matched the color just right, from a distance it appeared as if you still had your pate covered with some sort of hue. But it was messy, ugly, and after a while people became aware that it was available so they would ask you embarrassing questions like, “Is that hair, or have you just been sprayed?” (You realize, there is no dignified answer for that question.)

For a season I wore hats, which made it appear that there might be hair growth underneath, but kept it a secret so as not to age me or make me feel vacant.

I cannot tell you that I wear my baldness with pride. But sometimes, I am grateful. Honestly, you don’t have to wash the top of your head nearly as much as you do your hair. Most of the time, I just don’t notice.

Yet I must be honest–if there were a cure for baldness that didn’t make a ridiculous appearance on the top of your bean that looked like a miniature golf course turf, I might consider doing it.

I’m not sure.

But I have avoided getting a toupee, though on occasion I have threatened to do so.

I realize this article is very scattered–all over the place with different thoughts and emotions.

Think of it as symbolistic of my sentiments on hair loss.