READER WARNING: Content and photos in this post may be considered graphic by some individuals.
I remember the day, April 9, 2012.
I had spent the last 10 months to the day wedding planning. The excitement was both thrilling and overwhelming while trying to balance a full-time job and planning what everyone believes to be one of the biggest days in your life.
I woke up just like any other morning to go to work. I followed the normal, day-to-day routine. I showered. I dressed myself in a collared shirt and slacks. I put on make up. I brushed my wet hair.
My hair wasn’t laying right. I mean, I have strange hair that does its own thing, so I just needed to tousle it so it would not look like a cowlick. And then I noticed it.
…A round showing of skin about the size of a quarter on top of my head
I thought I had brushed my head too hard and pulled some hairs out. No clumps in the brush. I thought there might have been gum, or a huge tangle, or a culprit that pulled it out. No clumps on the ground.
There wasn’t anything wrong with me, right? Do I have cancer? Did I roll on it in my sleep and yank it out? No clumps in the bed. Did I accidentally and sleepily run my razor on my head during my shower? No clumps in the shower.
It didn’t hurt. It was straight bald. There were not the usual prickles of hair that had been broken off or shaved.
With tears in my eyes, I told my fiance. He told me not to worry. He was probably right.
How do you get a bald spot in the middle of your head? I brushed my hair back and pulled it in a ponytail at the back of my head, covering the spot.
It was nothing, right? I went through every scenario on my way to work like a typical hypochondriac. I wasn’t crazy, right? I touched my head. Yep, it’s still there.
When I arrived at work, I’m pretty sure I told everyone out of shock and paranoia that someone might notice it. I mean, it was a bald spot in the middle of my head that anyone would notice if my hair slipped away from it.
What in the world could this be? During my lunch break I took the above picture. I sent it to my dad in a text message saying,”I guess I got a bald spot lol.” But in reality, I was afraid.
I couldn’t tell the difference between laughing about it and crying. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I couldn’t stay off of Web MD at work. If you’ve ever been on the website, you probably know exactly what it pulled up when I searched random bald spot. EVERYTHING!
Researching didn’t help. I couldn’t find comfort in myself. I struggled to find comfort in everyone else’s opinions and thoughts.
“Go to the doctor,” they said. “It’s probably wedding stress,” they said. I couldn’t decide what to do.
So I did nothing.
It hurt my heart. With a smile on my face I laughed about it, but on the inside I struggled to hold back the tears. What happened? What did I do? Was it the shampoo? Was it something I ate? Did it just fall out?
My wedding was in five months. This would be fixed, right? This is all just a dream, right?
I couldn’t sleep that next night. I contemplated what I should do.