New Supplement and Nearly, Almost-Emerging Eyebrows

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With the last post, you got an overall update on the last year of my applied kinesiology adventures and all that comes with this grand experiment. What you didn’t get, though, was much of an update on my February appointment with Doc. Here goes.

When I walk into his office, I immediately let Doc know that I think we’re on the right track with the supplements these days. I’m feeling really good and all the bad stuff from the fall implosion seems to have abated. Granted, I don’t have fuzz on my head yet, but that would take a minimum of three months from the time the last traces of the errant supplement got out of my system, so I figure we’re looking at March or April at the earliest. Having said that, though, the skin around my worst eyebrow (or, what would be my eyebrow, if it wasn’t completely gone now) has a different feeling to it as of the last handful of days.

If you’re among the people reading this who has some form of alopecia areata (including totalis, universalis and ophiasis) and you’ve ever experienced bits of regrowth, you’ll know what I mean. For all others, here goes.

When you lose your hair–really lose it, not just thinning hair–the skin takes on a weird feeling. For some people, or for some of the time, it may be distinctively, oddly smooth. For many people, and especially in regard to bald spots on the scalp and face, it can feel slick or tacky.

If and when the bald spots start to grow hair, the skin begins to feel different once again. Depending on how it’s going to go, the skin may at first feel smooth but less sticky, almost like a very fine velvet, because there may be the tips of extremely fine, soft and essentially invisible baby-fine hair emerging. Or, if the hair is going to come back with some pigment, like normal hair, the skin may feel the slightest bit rough, like it does when, say, a five o’clock shadow emerges on a guy’s cheeks.

As of this moment, my invisibrow has the slightest, tiniest bit of roughness. Like, maybe at some point in the coming days or weeks or months (typically, months), hair may once again emerge there. The other brow (the one that looks like it’s been plucked-to-the-point-of-barely-any-mercy but is still a shadow of an eyebrow) doesn’t have that yet, but it fell out about two months after the first one, so we’ll see. As with everything, time will tell. And I think I’ve got a decent amount of tiny hairs sprouting on the top of the noggin’–when I get out of the shower, I can see them standing at attention, vying for my love. And there’s plenty of love for all. The bare spots at the back are still bare, but I’m hopeful.

And Doc tells me that since he’d seen me last, he’d attended a seminar by researcher and biologist Robert Sapolsky, who’s also the author of a well-known book, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers. During his presentation, Sapolsky happened to mention something to this effect: that some practitioners may get lucky enough–perhaps once in a lifetime of practice–to have a patient who presents something like the following: a form of alopecia, mixed with bits of snow-white hair that comes about following trauma–usually triggered by a sudden event or emerging from a pronounced and significant stressor.


And here’s lucky Doc, with me in his practice!!

According to Doc, Sapolsky didn’t have an all-out cure. He did, however, mention that it could be related to an overactive amygdyla, which constantly signals the adrenals to pump out cortisol, causing cortisol-related stresses on the body, adrenal fatigue and a whole slew of other problems. And Doc has mentioned, several times over the last year, that my adrenals are junk. And two posts ago when talking about why I chose meditation for my February 10-Minute Daily Challenge, I mentioned that part of what I was hoping to do was calm my amygdyla. Don’t know how I knew that, just all this reading on the interwebs, I guess, and it seemed like the right direction.

And now, I have something like confirmation that this is the tack to take. That’s why Doc was so keen on my recent foray into meditation. And that’s why he put me on a new supplement intended to regulate cortisol. Yeeaaaa!!!

So,  I’m on this new supplement for a week now. I’m just getting used to taking it–three a day, which I started doing with meals but it makes me so relaxed that I decided I may be better off waiting until noon or so for the first, the second at dinner, the third before bed.

So far, so good. Very chill. For the first time ever, I think, I have absolutely no nervous stomach, none of the background butterflies that always seem to be churning in my system. We had a big dinner here over the weekend and it didn’t throw me at all. I got some weird news from someone close to me. Fine! The meditation-related stuff that usually causes me agita has been tested a few times in the last couple of days and that didn’t ruffle me, either. Wild!

Before I left his office, though, Doc wanted to talk, too. After all, it was the 21st anniversary of my car accident. Our conversation was very uncomfortable. I left with a headache and agita. (Maybe I would only have had the headache if I’d already been on the new supplement? I guess I’ll know the next time Doc makes me talk.)

That’s the update; the next visit with Doc is March 14 and I look forward to updating again. And by then, it may even be time for the next trim-n-pic!

Thanks for keeping up and cheers!

{Note: These are my own experiences with applied kinesiology, which clearly aren’t meant as medical advice for anyone else. But I know a lot of friends and family members are grappling with a huge variety of autoimmune issues and other ailments, so I’m happy to share my experiences. And if this is your first visit and you’d like to follow chronologically, click here. Otherwise, enjoy!}

Photo courtesy of Pixabay, via Thank you!