bathroom, I grab a hand mirror from the vanity and turn to examine the back of my head. There is no need to separate the hair. The two-inch wide bald spot is hard to miss. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I drop my face in my hands, tears slipping through my fingers.
My hair has been continually thinning a little each day, but this . . . I never expected it to get this bad. I am really losing my hair. I'm losing the thick tresses Julian loves so much. I have had long hair all my life and have never had it cut, not even a trim. Never!
Just a couple of days ago, I finally broke down and searched the internet , researching hair loss. Alopecia. Or in my case, severe Alopecia Areata . I found a list of things a doctor can prescribe, but they may not work.
Taking a deep breath, I mentally review what I found.
In the worst cases the condition progresses (gradually or quickly) until large areas of hair have been lost. These cases naturally bring distress to the people affected.
When the condition first appears, it is not possible to predict whether it will be mild and recover soon or become severe. Apart from the uncommon type which is accompanied by eczema in children, no information is available about this. Everyone hopes that early treatment will stop the progress of the condition but if the alopecia is destined to be severe, this course may still be followed despite treatment.
Every link I followed said the same thing.
I'm losing my hair. What will Julian think? Reaching up, I comb my fingers through it, releasing a soft sob as more comes out in my hand. Wiping my face, I grab a couple of hair combs and some Bobbie pins and style my hair in a loose up-do, turning my head one way, and then another, making sure the bald spot is concealed. Having been pretty much satisfied with my looks for most of my life, right now my emotions are thrown out of whack and I suddenly feel like an ugly duckling.
I turn the water on and pour in some fragrant bubble bath, compliments of the hotel. Rinsing away the rest of my tears, I undress and get in the tub. A few minutes later, I absently turn the water off and sit back, staring off into space, and try to calm my thoughts.
Like it will make a difference.
Chapter 11
Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.
Kahlil Gibran
D ad surprises me with a day of shopping in Manhattan. He takes me up and down Fifth Avenue, making sure we enter almost every store. I am speechless with each purchase he make s for me. In one store, I try on evening gowns. Normally, they would make me feel elegant, but not today. When I tell Dad can't decide between three of them, he buys them all, making sure I pick out shoes to match. Our last stop is Tiffany’s, where he buys me a beautiful pair of diamond earrings.
“Dad, you're spoiling me,” I say with false cheerfulness as we get back in the limo.
“I know, and I love spoiling my daughter.”
“Where exactly are you planning to take me?”
“You'll see.”
Later, I change into a dark green velvet gown, adding the diamond earrings. Normally, I would wear my hair down with something so dressy, but I can't. I should feel beautiful, but all I can think about is the large concealed bald spot. I give myself another look over, then go out to the main room to wait for Dad. A moment later, he comes out of his room and whistles.
”Oh, Gisell e! If Julian could only see you right now! You are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Dad. You're very handsome, yourself.”
“Thank you.” He is wearing a classic black tuxedo with a dark green bow tie. I silently admire him, thinking what a lucky woman Cassie is.
“Are you ready?” he asks taking my hand.
“Yes.” I have been looking forward to this evening and I am going to do my best to leave my worries at the hotel.
Dad takes me to dinner, and then to the Metropolitan Opera to see The Phantom of the Opera, and though I am enjoying the play, a small part of