Last night, when I washed my hair I noticed a lot more shedding than usual. I was disturbed and researched essential oils that might help stop hair loss. This morning, it was naturally gicky from the oils, so I washed it again and saw even more strands collecting on my comb after. This time I researched more about the hair loss thing. There is a science and an actual career surrounding hair. Beyond the lady at the salon who cuts and chats and knows everything about you and your dog and your cousin’s cat. (And probably styles your cousin’s spouse’s hair, too) This person is called a Trichologist. I know, it sounds like a disease, but it isn’t!
I learned that hair reacts to all kinds of things. Dead cells that are affected by everything from diet to stress. It appears it takes about 3 months for hair to react to stress and that makes perfect sense. About 3 months ago it was January. In January, I had made plans to leave AK to return to Oregon. In January, most of my life seemed to be tumbling into a dank hole. I had to cancel my flights, my endocrinologist had to tell me she couldn’t take care of me anymore, most of my stalwart supports were growing away from me, my body was ill, and mum was getting sicker. (she’s always getting sicker, I keep thinking there must be a limit to how sick a person can get. Obviously, mom is an anomaly). Yes, it made perfect sense when I read the article about why hair can suddenly shed at a greater rate.
In despair, I also read it takes 6 weeks for any positive changes to make a difference. I decided it needed cut off. It is so ridiculous it seems like oversized daddy long legs when I see the tumble of threads in the sink or on the wall of the shower where I collect them to toss out after. (I also have a trap in the drain, but it fills up too fast with the lost locks.) I don’t like short hair. It is hard to take care of. It needs taken care of all the time. At the moment, I pull it back and attempt to trim things on my own. (Badly) Easy. After a bit, I realized something. I don’t need to cut it short, exactly. But, I can have it chopped off shorter. Shoulder length (or thereabouts) is not entirely shingled to not much at all and it will still be in the realm of fairly easy. Now, I just have to find time to get it done. I am NOT going to attempt to trim off 4 or more inches on my own. (Probably more….) I have a very good friend who cuts hair, she’s just incredibly busy. I might ask her-
Then, I discover Medicare has changed a bit. Mum isn’t going to be allowed to test as often as she does. So, I’ll get her a cheap glucometer and strips. Since she’s not using her insulin pump anymore, it won’t matter what glucometer she uses. She’s so sick now, anyway. As her nurse last week said, just let her be happy in what she’s doing. I’m still having problems pertaining to the pain pump paperwork. (oooh, alliteration!) I am hoping I can get that resolved on Wednesday.
My sister was going to visit on Sunday, but mom didn’t feel good. I texted her to let her know mum was not up to visitors and she responded, ‘We did try.’ She’s on her way in a few minutes again. I’ll update after her family leaves!
Great. I’m in the doghouse again. My oldest niece called and she talked to mum while my sister was here. Princess lives in WA and works in YMCA. Her office is an original part of the building. Well, mum tried to tell her that my dad might have been a patron of the YMCA in those days. I told mom that was improbable. Mom got very upset with me. Dad, at the time when the original YMCA was created would have been in elementary school. I’m not sure he’d have been one of those youth who would have benefited from the facility. But, since I’m never right and she always is…I should have kept my mouth shut. She’s also annoyed because we were talking about spring and gardens and I’d mentioned my Oregon garden was needing a lot of work. I laughingly suggested mum should come down and weed for me. Mom said she’d love to, she’ll need to sell everything up here and move with me. (I do NOT want her to move in to my house for keeps.) I can hardly get her to go to a church service. How on earth will she survive traveling for several hours and living in a house with stairs? She’d sleep in the master bedroom, The Craftsman and I would have to move outside to the little house. (NOT where the TV is or a bathroom and all in all, it would be kind of fun in summer, til it got too hot, and distinctly uncomfortable in winter.) If she could travel, I’d send her to MN for a few weeks. More improbability! Then, she found out something I found out on Friday when I was at lunch with our retired pastor friend. I said I already knew that and learned when her friend spoke to me. Mum sadly said in a little tiny voice, ‘I’d have liked to talk to her.’ Thank goodness I didn’t tell her I went to lunch with the amazing woman.
She says she hurts today, because of the weather. It is warmer and things are melting and it is damp. Oh,, and am adding a hairy woodpecker photo, just because. (Hairy woodpeckers look like a Downy, but are a couple of inches larger. Downy are about 6 in and Hairy are about 9.) Maybe I can jump out of this hairy situation!