Diagnosed

Sometime in Junior High my family doctor told my mom and I that I had a funny sounding disease. He easily pulled off a piece of my hair from the affected area and looked at the texture of my fingernails which further confirmed that I had Alopecia Areata. He had to say the words a couple of times for us to understand the pronunciation. Alopecia Areata (al-oh-PEE-shah air-ee-AH-tah). It took me years to say "Areata" right, but of course the word does not come up in everyday conversation.

What did this diagnosis mean to a pre-teen? Short term answers. The dime size bald spot on my head was no longer a mystery and nothing to be alarmed over. My thick hair easily covered the bald spot and the doctor said the hair would probably grow back. I also had disease with a cool name. Strep throat or bronchitis may get me a milkshake, but having a disease draws attention from the family.

My youthful attitude kept me from analyzing the doctor's long-term description of the disease. No harm for now and the affects would be unnoticed by peers. The bald spot became a quick fixation for bored class periods. Discretely rubbing my finger over the smooth scalp was the equivalent of twirling my hair. I found myself looking at the mirror more to check on the spot and within a year the hair did grow back. Living with a weird disease quickly went out of thought.