It’s approaching that dreaded hour.
That hour you know it’s time to take a shower
You have prolonged it long enough
You don’t want to but know you must.
But what is all your worrying about?
It’s about your hair falling out.
You are full of so much despair
Because you just keep losing your hair
You feel horrid when you look at the drain. You grab the hair with angst and pain
You shout “What the heck is this about? Why the $&@/ is my hair falling out?”
You go see the doctor and he says “it’s just stress. Nothing to worry about!” Everyone is going through the same thing due to Covid 19 stress. Losing jobs, getting sick, and losing loved ones causes stress. Anxiety and depression are stresses that make you lose tresses.
What you don’t understand is why from the top of your head? Why not from your axilla or legs instead? He mentioned telogen effluvium as the diagnosis. You felt relieved to hear of the prognosis. Your hair will grow again. Amen.
You promise to become more stress free. You remember and say to yourself “Hair or no hair I am still me. ”
Love you all and I’m not lying at all. Is your hair falling out too? What are you doing to de-stress? Stay strong. If you would like to check a nice video about this topic see below.
Good morning my friends. This year has been tough with the pandemic and being an essential worker. In mid March I was on call and it was so difficult video chatting with patients that were sick and I had to refer them to the emergency room. Painfully I knew some of them would not make it.
It’s been so busy I didn’t process it. I got sick myself with Covid like symptoms but it turned out to be the flu. It sucked that last week of March. Then soon afterwards my beautiful coworker was found in a praying position on the floor in the morning in her home. She had a heart attack and tried to get to the phone and fell. Her grandson is my patient and he was devastated. Once again I had to stay strong.
My friend called me around the same time to tell me both her parents died of Covid one week apart. I couldn’t even go hug her and that was heart breaking. They were only in their late 50s. I’m 52 years old,
I then get a phone call from my friend that one of our mutual friends was in the hospital battling for his life. A severe heart attack at age 42. He died just few days shy of his birthday. He was a healthy beautiful person. He had just had a full cardiac check up too. What the heck? I almost cried but I couldn’t because as an essential worker and a parent you have to be strong for others.
I reached out to my friend for comfort to find out my Physician Assistant from my prior job had died and he was only 32. I just continued feeling crappy and so irritable.
In August my mom was hospitalized and required major heart surgery. She had hallucinations due to side effects of the anesthesia and the morphine given. My heart couldn’t take seeing my strong mom cry like a baby. I had to stay strong, I’m the only medical doctor in the family. I’m happy to state she is now better and almost at her baseline.
When I finally go back to work and check my labs I find out that the grandson of my deceased co-worker has to be sent to the emergency room. At age 26 he was diagnosed with cancer. His girlfriend is my patient and I fought back crying to provide her with comfort and strength.
I found myself burned out, irritable and so unenthusiastic. Could I possibly take anymore? I watched sad movies but no tears. I chopped onions and nothing.
I then got into a tiff with my 23 yr old daughter and I just cried and cried. I broke and I finally feel better. I decided to start a You-tube channel to motivate others. It made me realize that in motivating others I uplifted yourself. Here’s the link. Care to join me? Let me know what you think
When you are sick how do you feel? What makes you go to the doctor? Seriously it’s 10 below zero and you get up from your warm bed, bundle yourself up and go see a doctor in hopes of getting antibiotics. But you don’t really need an antibiotic for every sneeze, cough or upset stomach. […]
As I sit here watching the downpour of rain, I remember my childhood. I was a mere age of 4 and I loved to go out and play in the rain. The memory of jumping in those big puddles still brings a smile to my face. It was so exciting.
My mother would scold me for not wearing my rainboots. She would literally tug at me to get back in the house. I never listened. Actually I never cared! I was free and full of life.
The raindrops were very cold yet never cold enough for me because I was so warm inside. I can still envision the wind pushing the tree branches to and fro. I was like one of those branches. No wind could ever knock me down. I was strong. I was fearless. While people cursed because their umbrellas broke, I never wanted to use one. I loved the rain.
I especially enjoyed walking inside the house making squeaky noises with my wet sneakers. It irked my dad to no end but I didn’t care. There was something about the rain that I loved so much. I felt sad when the rain stopped and the water evaporated. The sun would come out and my only reminder of the rain was that feeling of moisture on my feet. Would it rain again tomorrow? Perhaps it would.
Funny how at age 4 raindrops were on my face and I laughed with merriment. Now I sit here at age 32 and watch the rain hit against the glass window. Tear drops are falling upon my face as I recall those days. How I wish I could jump in a puddle right now!
How I long to walk around in my squeaky sneakers like I did at age 4, age 5 age 6 and even as a teenager. I can’t anymore though. I can’t! I was so carefree as a child but at age 16 I no longer wanted to wet my sneakers. They were too expensive you see. I still didn’t care much for rainboots.
I remember my mother yelling for me to stay home that evening. A severe thunderstorm was approaching. “Don’t go!” I could hear her cry out. I refused to listen and I stormed out with my umbrella and the car keys. I was meeting my friends to hang out and the rain was not going to stop me. The downpour was never ending. I jumped in my dad’s car, tossed the umbrella on the side, turned the ignition on and started to drive. I drove past that old tree with its branches so strong and one of them came to meet me personally.
I recall the blur before me. It happened so fast. I was scared. The rain was different. It wasn’t the one I loved. My tears and the very cold raindrops made me lose my vision and here I am. I am a man bound to a metal wheelchair with ulcers on my back and my buttocks anesthetized from the neck down. If only I could go outside and play. If only I could jump in a puddle once again! If only I had avoided that rain.
This was a little story told to me by one of my patients who was admitted for infected ulcers. He suffered from depression as well. The patient and his parents had become estranged after the incident but with psychotherapy they were all able to heal. Sadly he developed sepsis and died at age 35.
Stay safe, my friends
Hugs from Brooklyn