• Random and Odd

    Mr. Clean. Mr. Clean.

    I called Kaiser (our health care provider) today to find out about getting an appointment about my head.  Not the stuff in my head, but the stuff falling OUT of it.

    Since my divorce…or around that time…I started getting red patches on my head and it itched.  Then it wouldn’t. Then it would. Then it wouldn’t. Then it would. You seeing the cycle yet?  Two years of hearing my sister tell me, “That is NOT right, go get it checked.”  I went in and got it checked.  The doctor told me, “You’re stressed out. Stop stressing out and your hair will stop falling out and the patches will go away. Take this in case I’m wrong.”

    It didn’t work.

    Now fast forward FIVE years later to last night when I lay my head down on the pillow and MY SCALP HURTS.  Yes, it is tender to the touch.  Yeah, time to call the doctor.

    My doctor, who Shaun likes to call the witch doctor because you go in and be VERY direct about your problem and try not to notice that just one of his hands could crush your melon with very little effort.  He then writes something down and says, “You take this. It go away.”  Then he brushes his hands together that makes all the air in the room swirl about and does some Zimbabwean chant, then yells;  “ALL GONE.  Any questions?” and you say, “No.” and hurry out the room.  You don’t dare make direct eye contact because his gaze will surly kill you.  He wasn’t there.  I was somewhat happy that he had taken a vacation.  I could also wait a few days before I would get an appointment and maybe my problem will have gone away.

    No such luck. I guess having hair fall out and not being able to put your head on a pillow merits an appointment ASAP.

    The new doctor seemed like he was going to be a nice one because he had a head of healthy gray hair, warm smile and firm handshake.  I should have known I was in trouble when after I told him what my problem was, he shook his head and said, “Yeah, you’re probably not going to like what I say…but that’s okay…I’m retiring at the end of the week so when you call to complain, tell them it’s the doctor that is now on a cruise ship.”  I just laughed and waited to hear what I had to do to someday be able to touch the side of my head without squealing in pain.
    “You have anxiety right?” He asked.
    “Yes. I have lots of…” He cut me off before I could tell him all the stuff I could stress about in great detail, with pictures to make the details of my anxiety just ‘POP’.
    “What did you stress about 2 days ago?”
    Once again, I start to tell him about all the things, wishing I had brought my laptop so I could show him the power point presentation I had made about all the stuff I have anxiety about, but he cuts me off again.

    Clearly he needs to take a second look at the other side, or he wanted to break my neck to shut me up.  I sit there and just take the abuse, because really…he’s the guy that is going to ultimately be able to fix the problem and he is retiring at the end of the week and he didn’t get his kill quota in last month.  “You’re body is reacting to what is happening in your life. You had high anxiety in last couple of days and your body is trying to tell you to stop stressing out.”

    “Great, so what now?”
    “What? I mean, isn’t there anything you can give me that will make this go away? I mean, I’m going to bald in 2 weeks if I don’t get something to fix this problem.  Did you SEE the size of the amount of hair I am missing? it’s HUGE!”  I’m trying my hardest to be calm, but this guy is cool as a cucumber.
    “Ma’am, this is nothing compared to others I have seen.”  He is writing some stuff down on the paper and I am wishing I had the witch doctor here to give me some salve and do his chant.  Hell, I would stay with his village for a month if it would relieve the pain of my hair falling out.

    “Here, take this and it will relieve the redness and irritation, but ultimately YOU have to the be one to get it to stop falling out.”

    I dared to ask him a few other unrelated questions and he told me, “Stop taking that; Don’t depend on that to work; That will never go away; You’re going to die someday and it’s going to be VERY painful.”

    And I left with a bottle of some stuff and happy that I didn’t have what I thought I had…hair cancer.  I’m not sure if anyone has ever HAD hair cancer, but It would be MY luck that I would be the first.  If I had chemo for hair cancer, instead of my hair falling out…would it grow back in?