I had an appointment with my Derm today. She's a sweet girl (Ack, they do make doctors young these days, don't they?) and she actually had tears in her eyes when she suggested that we stop the cortisone shots.
I had walked in there planning to tell her that I thought today would be the last visit.
Great minds think alike.
The difference between my response to the injections 12 years ago and now is like night and day. Twelve years ago, I had hair growing back within 2 weeks of the first treatment. Sure, I lost it in other spots, but eventually the growth caught up and overtook the fallout.
This time, I've been undergoing treatment since May. Other than a couple of those little white fuzzies that people talk about, I've had nothing. Plus everything else is gone, too.
I'm okay with it. Sure, it's worth the pain if I would have had regrowth - and I'm not completely without hope... I mean, it can still come back, but it's not worth my time and my insurance money to continue on the road to nowhere-right-now.
So, on we go. She's putting my name on the list for the University of Michigan Derm. Research in case they do another study anytime soon (I live in Ann Arbor...U of M is my backyard). She also said she'd be glad to write a letter to any employer who had any questions about Alopecia when I start interviewing for a new job soon. (Of course, I won't ask her for that until AFTER I have the job - there're still people who see a bald woman and assume Cancer...)
Anyway, I knew I'd find some sympathetic ears here. It's that acceptance phase that people talk about, right? Turn off the treatment and hope for the best.
Now, though, I'm going to go pour a glass of wine or three. ;-)
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