Smiling broadly, Kirk A. Wyckoff extended his hand and said, "Hi,
I'm the guy with no hair."
He is that, all right. And it's not a fashion statement.
Wyckoff, a native of Marion who now resides in the Upper
Arlington area, has alopecia areata. He is, in fact, the leader of a
fledgling support group for central Ohioans who have the
noncontagious, practically capricious autoimmune skin disease that
causes hair to fall out.
This is generally in round patches on the scalp, but alopecia
areata has a wide array of variations.
Kirk Wyckoff, for example, at the present time has a version of
the disease called alopecia universalis.
That essentially means no hair, anywhere.
According to the National Alopecia Areata Foundation, based in
San Rafael, Calif., approximately 1.7 percent of the population is
affected by the disease, and that includes more than 4.7 million
Americans.
The general term for the disease is derived from the Greek word "alopekia,"
meaning "loss of hair," and a Latin word that means "occurring in
patches."
"Alopecia areata occurs in males and females of all ages and
races," according to the foundation's Web site. "However, onset most
often begins in childhood and can be psychologically devastating.
Although not life-threatening, alopecia areata is most certainly
life-altering, and its sudden onset, recurrent episodes and
unpredictable course have a profound psychological impact on the
lives of those disrupted by this disease."
Wyckoff, who came to Columbus to attend Franklin University, is a
living, breathing example of exactly what the foundation is saying.
His first episode of alopecia areata occurred when he was 5 or 6
years old, but it involved only a small spot on his scalp and went
away after a time.
The next onset, however, arrived with full force and in the
middle of Wyckoff's adolescence during the 1980s.
"It was a pretty traumatic event for me back then," Wyckoff said.
Now manager of the information technology group for a local
office of ATX Communications, based in King of Prussia, Pa., Wyckoff
can vividly recall the tactics he employed to minimize the amount of
time he was among his peers and a target for teasing. He would wait
until the very last instant to scramble from one classroom to the
next.
"It can be troublesome for teenagers in particular," he said.
It can also be especially troublesome for youngsters and for
females. Canadian psychologist Wendy Thompson fit into both
categories when the disease arrived in her life. In the 1996 book
"Alopecia Areata: Understanding and Coping with Hair Loss," which
she co-wrote with Dr. Jerry Shapiro of the University of British
Columbia, Thompson describes what happened the first time she lost
her hair at age 7:
"What sticks out in my memory is facing the first day of school
that fall. I walked out the front door with a very skimpy scarf that
didn't cover my head, got halfway down our sidewalk and turned back.
My mother waved her arm slowly and firmly, as if to plant some of
her inner strength in me, and said in a kind voice, 'You have to go
now.' I think it was as hard for her as it was for me. In those
days, more than 40 years ago, this disease was never discussed. By
anyone. Ever."
Later in the introduction to her book, Thompson writes:
"Every time I was outside my home, I was teased and stared at
until I covered up the problem with a wig and created a new
identity. What happened every time I was teased? I felt hurt,
helpless and angry. I ate the words and they ate me."
Carrie Hart, a resident of Grandview Heights, can readily
identify with Thompson's account. The native of Fremont, Ohio, has
been dealing with alopecia areata from the time she was 15 years old
and the bare patches first appeared on her scalp.
"It was a horrible time," said Hart, reimbursement manager for
the local office of Entific Medical Systems, makers of hearing
implants. "It was very difficult to deal with."
Teenage girls are insecure enough without having to deal with
something like alopecia areata, Hart said.
"You're constantly trying to cover it up, asking your friends,
'Is anything showing?' " she added.
Hart, who has lived in central Ohio since 1991, is now 31 and
better able to cope with her condition from an emotional standpoint.
"In the last couple of years it's gotten better," she said. "I'm
older and more confident as a person, but it still hurts when people
notice it.
"I can't change it and I can't control it."
Local support group leader Wyckoff, whose hair grew back after
three or four years the first time it all fell out, felt tested and
eventually strengthened by the teasing he experienced.
"It's just all about attitude," he said. "My philosophy on it is
things could be worse.
"It's something that forged me the way I am," he said. "You can
worry about your differences, but I chose to say, 'How can I use
this to my advantage?'"
For instance, Wyckoff, who once again experienced complete hair
loss three years ago, points to how much he saves on haircuts and
razor blades.
"I don't have to shave," he said. "There are a lot of positives."
Many people with alopecia areata disguise their condition with
the use of wigs, according to Wyckoff, who chooses not to do so. A
major concern within the alopecia areata community, he added, is the
fact many insurance companies will not pay for a hair prosthesis,
even though the baldness is a direct result of a medical condition
and can have dire emotional consequences.
"They way I look at it is, you can pay the wig shop owner or you
can pay the psychologist," Wyckoff said.
Carrie Hart of Grandview also feels insurance companies should
pay for wigs, particularly in cases of total hair loss.
"I just think that there should be something done for them," Hart
said.
It's difficult to say how many people with alopecia areata live
in central Ohio, but Wyckoff presumes it's just under 2 percent of
the population, just like everywhere else.
Anyone interested in more information about the new support group
being started in the Columbus area is invited to contact Wyckoff via
e-mail.
That address is
mailto:kwyckoff@gmail.com
