Inland, Dreaming of Waves

Shave and wig

I actually paid money to see a tough-love dermatologist today.

No, I don't have skin cancer. I'm losing my hair.

Slowly.

So I go to see Dr. Sheila Boyle in Westminster, who has very thick dyed blonde hair. Oh, no, I'm not bitter.

And I tell her that I think the diagnosis of telogen effluvium that I received from my GP is wrong. It's usually caused by an illness, or childbirth, or great stress. I haven't had any of those in the last five years.

So she agrees that I probably have genetic hair loss and tells me there's nothing to be done. For women, that is.

"You're healthy," she says, hiding behind her hair (wisely).

"Buy a wig."

I wonder how much this little 10-minute pick-me-up visit cost.

Today was the second time I've gone to a "cosmetic" doctor and really not enjoyed it. I once went to see a plastic surgeon about laser surgery to remove some acne scars. I just wanted to see what the options were; I knew insurance would never pay for it. He told me all about the risks of having laser, but none of the benefits. What is wrong with these people, anyway? Are they desperate to be taken seriously by their colleagues, you know, "real" doctors who don't do cosmetic procedures?

I just read a book titled "Hair Savers" that has dozens of options for treating women's hair loss. I get the distinct feeling that Boyle doesn't know what she's talking about.

And I'm also annoyed because I quizzed her assistant on the phone. "Well, does she regularly treat WOMEN with hair loss?"

"Oh yes. There are injections and things."

Buoyed by visions of needles being stuck into my scalp, I sallied bravely into the office today.

To be told: Buy a wig.

Aaaargh.

posted by Price of Silence @ 10:27 PM